Darkness Falls

Night. Now that's magic... When the clouds are wiped off the slate and the black sky is dotted with diamonds and jewelled with the moon... That is truly heaven on earth for me. Love, Life and worries go to neverland and bring me closer to my creator. Its like night creates for me a wifi with God. Wireless data transfer with my father in heaven.. I know the similie is beyond lame, but can't help it.. Haven't you felt the same? Ever feel like you were chatting with God and not praying to the Almighty? Ever feel the presence beside you and not as the light leading you on?

if so you will understand. I believe it is like the green dusk. The one of which many a sailors wrote, which few had seen and loads had lied. it is the moment when you realize that there is something much bigger than your ego holding you in place... That is the moment when life unfolds... Life unfolds. For a guy with a open life, there isn't much to unfold but my secrets are few but deep and dark... They will die with me or kill me... Truth is we never have that moment for eternity

To those who, regardless of the time, duration or location have felt like brothers with God more than his humble and imperfect son, you people are lucky to be alive and have your heart beat again and again pumping that knowledge deeper into you.

To those who haven't, trying isn't the solution.. living is. Live your life and only yours.. Don't fake your self for friends or fame. Because you are God's image. And He isn't looking for a plastic surgeon soon!

Between the Woods and frozen lake

The woods were and oh so beautiful!

With the road a ribbon of white velvet.

The flaky snow made the night so white;

And covered the world in a heavenly glow.

And the lake was frozen as if to bear

A parade of dancers on its smooth floor.

As lovers dance hand in hand,

Eyes locked deep in a steady smile.

The ghosts of dancers from long lost loves

Fade away before mine eyes.

A gentle breeze flew all around

Taking the snow flakes round and round.

The world at this moment was beauty entralled;

To lose this moment was a price too steep.

Miles go on for ever and e'er;

My life ain't a road but the beauty it holds.

This is a second thought to the poem "Stopping by the woods on a snowy evenng" by Robert Frost. For those who have not read it, you should.

Angels are Vengeful

The cold steel blade felt at home in his hands. When it plunged into the depths of human body, it came out plucking more than blood and bone. It also ripped of the life within that shell, with the ease of picking a flower. But was that all? Didn’t it also take with it, a part of the yielder’s heart? The part where humanity thrives. The part that makes one human?

In a warrior’s mind these thoughts are taboo. But he was not born a warrior or a murderer. Everyone is born to this earth as a bundle of joy. It is life that makes scars too deep for healing, and a mind prepared to do all it takes to fulfill the primal instinct within. The instinct to survive.

But the problem is when one starts enjoying the process. And as he stood there awaiting his target, his heart beat a bit faster and his mouth started to dry. Adrenalin pumped into his body like an intoxicating drug. This was his peak. This was his life’s prime moment. When he felt that he was more than a bug which could be trodden on by all around him. To feel alive he had to hold within his hand the power of life. If God could give life and he could take it away, doesn’t that make him God?

It had started raining, but he barely noticed it. The wait was when he truly lived. He had to savor these moments for they were precious few. Rain dripped down his coat and crept into his boots. He hastily swept his long hair from his eyes. His wait was ending, and his moment was approaching.

He stepped out of his alley and walked toward the man who was fast approaching him. He was young, and from what he could make out, handsome and rich. As the gap closed fast, the young man’s eyes rose to meet his end. Something flashed in those black depths, a mute understanding. In the second that separated the blade and his chest, he must have known that his end was at hand. In the next moment the blade hit home and warm blood flowed free from the open wound. His eyes met the victims and he felt the same pain in his guts. Like a piece of his soul had died with his prey. But this time the pain was deeper than ever. Did this young man remind him of his early days? Emotions had no place in a killer’s heart. Then why was this pain betraying his heart.

He turned and ran before the prey hit ground. He knew fully well that the rain would wash the blood fast from his clothes. He ran for some time but the pain was not gone. He stopped for a breath but his body would not go on. He sank to the ground and watched blood flow from his clothes.

The blood flowed and flowed but it didn’t stop. All the while his pain grew more and more. So he slowly removed his loose coat and stared blankly at the silver hilt of a dagger poking from his chest. He looked to the sky and saw a lonely star. Rain washed off a single tear from his face. As his world grew dark and emptiness closed around, he was half smiling and half amazed. That angels were vengeful he had long suspected. But the swiftness of their deeds amazed him still.

To those who have gone before me and to those who are yet to come...

The first drop of rain fell on my face as if it had been born just to shatter on my cheeks and break into a million beautiful artworks crafted to perfection by almighty. Then came the next and then came the rain, pouring down on my face like a vengeful spirit bent on soaking me. They fell on my face like a lover's touch. This is my moment. Here I become one with the universe. These raindrops float around m and lift me up to the heavens for a mute conversation with those who have gone before me.

I am not one who has secured my second mind. I am not someone who has taken the pilgrimage to discover boundless knowledge and glory. I am just a guy who likes to walk barefoot in the rain.

Then again, who said that conversing to those above should be hard? They were with us before we came here. Those who walked with us before this life and those who will walk with us after this life. Friends. And to speak to friends you don't need ceremonial parades or preparations. You need to have a mind and the eye to see them. I see them in the rain.

This sounds crazy to anyone sane. But to each man, what is more precious and the most well kept secret than his personal insanity? Isn’t the drop of madness as essential to life as air to life? Without that madness we would be logical beings still living in the stone age. It is said that there are two percent of the population on earth who have somewhat higher levels of madness. One percent is locked up in various asylums and the other one percent is responsible for every major breakthrough in history. Imagine a sane man saying “Let’s collide two atoms and see what happens!”

But I’m straying. This is about my madness. Rain. When it pours I walk. The world is mine when it rains. I watch the normal people crowd under shelter to escape the water. Fools! I exclaim. They do not know what they are missing. But then again this is my personal pleasure. And in this walk I crave loneliness.

Loneliness. That’s the wrong word there. Alone is better. For I do not walk with men but I am anything but lonely. Every drop that shatters before my eyes have come all this way to give me company on this special occasion. How can I be alone?

Barefoot is how I prefer it but usually that isn’t possible. I still remember the day at the beach. Me, my ride and a true storm around me. The sea soared sky high and crashed before my eyes just as the rain made even my bones soaked wet. But in the streets I dare not walk barefoot. But nothing can keep me from being out there. I do not know or care what you will say when I tell you that when the wind blows the rain to my face, its like kissing my one true love. A breath of passion and pure love, only soft lips of my love can give. How incredible it is that one can see passion, love, hope and tenderness in something as simple as a raindrop.

It has stopped pouring, for now. I can already see my house at the distance. There will be other days if God permits me life, to soak in the rain as if I could melt away. People will leave and people will come. Life will move on and take me far and wide. But I pray to my gods to be merciful. And let me walk this ground with those who have gone before me and those who are yet to come again and again till I truly are by their side…

A cup of tea

The smell that rose from the mug was distinct. It had an exotic fragrance that the city life screened away in the IT hubs all over the world. I looked at the mug as if it was something taboo, something stolen out of another man's life. But this house had been my world for the first twenty years of my life. Perhaps the most beautiful years of my life. It stood more to the village side of the nation and hence had more space, more privacy. The tea plantations that spread across the hills lining the horizon formed a visual treat that I had once taken for granted and later missed more than I could have dreamed possible.



My life took me away from this heaven all at once and ignorance prevented me from thinking twice. My life was here, my mother was here. And all of that I left for a prize too small. And when it dawned on me that the choice was wrong, all that was left was a shell of the past.



I left the room and walked around just to see if much has changed. I can remember every inch of this home like I never could any of my new houses. My legs had a mind of their own here and they took me to corners that once smelled of my sweat. Memories of innocent friendships and playful pleasures came back to me. Or had they never left the back of my mind?



Life was simple then. Pleasure meant a rubber ball and a sunny day. Now it meant expensive cars, finest wines and exotic holidays. But could all that money can buy compensate the pleasure of that simple rubber ball? If I answer that, my world would come tumbling down.



My feet took me away from my home, to the nearby stream were me and my friends used to swim. The stream had dried up but if I stood and listened long enough, the flow of water and sounds of laughter could still be heard. I sat on the dry banks and tried to shed a tear for the long lost days. But all I could do was smile at my own stupidity. Those days are gone for good. I started my return, this time my head guiding the way.



At a distance, my home looked as beautiful as the days bygone. As I reached closer, I saw someone standing at the door looking at me like a long lost treasure. My heart skipped a beat and my breath stopped short. I kept looking into those beautiful eyes. For that one moment, I was once again twelve and was running back home to my mother's arms. Tears that just moments before had refused to yield now flowed free blinding my eyes. I blinked away the tears and looked at the empty space. i knelt down on the dirt road and wept till my soul was pure once more.



Once I had left this land which loved me. Now I pay the price in memories and tears.

My heart breathes Adios...

It was a beautiful spring day. A cool, soothing breeze was in the air and joy was palpable around me on this beautiful day. The age old banyan tree swayed its heavy branches as if to bid farewell to an invisible someone it had known a long time. I sat alone on the park bench and smiled. The irony of my situation was strange. I was expected by all to be sad. To wander the earth with a broken heart searching for a long lost love which was ripped from my heart. The world expected me to be so. Then why was i so happy and, in its true sense, light?

My heart was ripped apart hours ago by the one i loved. The cuts were a long time in the making but the preparation proved futile. There are some things you simply can't prepare for. One is losing someone you love. The other perhaps is death. But even when every preparation was in vain and every effort not to feel the loss was a line on the water surface, here Iwas moments later feeling happy and at one with the joy flooding around me.

I am sure that a passerby would think I am mad, for my actions were curious. Save a few seconds of thought, I was smiling perhaps like an idiot in love. Like an idiot in love, what a way to feel when love was what I had lost moments before.

But the more I thought about it the moreIi realized that the last couple of months showed me a relationship I could not complement. What was dear to me was a bit of care. If i'm not entitled to that, then is there a use in such a relationship? My feeling did count, whatever anyone else thought about it. And now one person was short from the list of people who didn't give a damn.

Love is about being there for someone and getting that back from your loved one. In the absence of this security, love can't survive. Lust could. But love most certainly can't. i am 22 years old. I have just one relationship which lasted 3 years. And now i am alone again. To wander this heath of lost love? Or to explore the world with a better understanding, a more widened approach and a hell of a will to survive. But I don't want to survive. I want to live, live free on my own terms.

This is my promise to a new life and a lesson learnt from a love gone sour. My life offered me joy for the past three years, not it offers me much pain. But anything that life throws at me, I can take. And anything that doesn't kill me makes me stronger. So with a stronger heart, a heart scarred, but thirsting to beat with the vigour of fresh expectation, I set out to find what life throws my way next.

Hope. I hold it close to my heart. And dreams are with me while my soul lives on..............

Dedicated to every person who was, is or wants to be in love!