Thursday, December 31, 2009

Walk

I walked last night, with my old friend
Past the old house where we first met.
The moon shone, and the path was wet
No one passed by us as we strolled
Though hand in hand
We did not speak. Our hands grew cold.

We did not deal in words or tears
At the dead light we did not rage
What change had crept through our forked years
We did not have the will to gauge.

And thus emotions become hesitant and uncertain, the present situation leads to past memories . . . and the end is an acceptance of the designs of life, and its obstructions.

Goodbye 2009. You take along both sorrow and joy, and leave behind remembrance.

Happy new year.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

21.

so yes, here, 17 days before my birthday, I have rung in milestone year-21 in a friends-tantra-dance-beer-vodka bash. well, the vodka/beer weren't for me but anyways, looks like I am 21 :) who'd have thought!

Priya's 22 now, it was her "Paarteh" too you see. (i love u man :) )

more later, now I'll go work towards making sensation return to my feet (sigh...Dancing !!)

p.s.- I tried the whole salt-vodka-lemon wedge thing, looks like I can hold my drink :D

P.P.S-Yeah, I'm gonna stick to Earl Grey (danish & ankur approve! )

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Separate, Equal.

Let me now sleep, let me not think, let me
Not ache with inconsistent tenderness.
It was untenable delight; we are free--
Separate, equal--and if loverless,
Love consumes time which is more dear than love,
More unreplicable. With everything
Thus posited, the choice was clear enough
And daylight ratified our reckoning.

Now only movement marks the birds from the pines;
Now it's dark; the blinded stars appear;
I am alone, you cannot read these lines
Who are with me when no one else is here,
Who are with me and cannot hear my voice
And take my hand and abrogate the choice.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Conversation

The tumult in the heart
keeps asking questions.
And then it stops and undertakes to answer
in the same tone of voice.
No one could tell the difference.
Uninnocent, these conversations start,
and then engage the senses,
only half-meaning to.
And then there is no choice,
and then there is no sense;
until a name
and all its connotation are the same.