Missing Him

It's not his smiles...

It's not his cries...

Its not his mischief....

It's not his eyes...

It's not his love...

It's not his wide open arms. 

I just miss his grumbling

I just miss his screaming

I miss his snogging

I miss his missing me. 

Everyday as I enter

His gaze...the stare...

His affection infused look filled with a sense of belonging that just makes it feel at home. 

His arms wide open ready to jump and grab me. 

His agitation and annoyance on not making it into my arms. 

His killer smile that could freeze time....

His playing with his toys while just laying one reassuring hand on my lap....just to feel my touch and feel protected. 

His fake laughs to entice me into taking him in my lap. 

 I just miss him so much....I just wish I cud make the distances disappear now....everytime I close my eyes he stares back at me and then I can't close my eyes anymore. 

The Tradition Debate

Tradition is overrated...

It's part of our habit -

We always glorify the past

And minimize the present. 

I say this because...

Tradition was the future once

Tradition was...someones present. 

What it was not, at some time, was someone's classic past!

Be sure...back then...

Tradition did meet with opposition

Tradition was threatened...

Tradition was benchmarked against traditions...back then. 

I want us to stop...

I want us to appreciate today.

Sure yesterday taught us value...

In fact today is the value...why underrate it?

Contemporary & tradition...

Their appreciation can never coexist!

It's a battle tht one has to win!

And for me...victory of the current is the only true success of the past!

Just Me

Sometimes I like...

Being by myself. 

Helps me experience....

Who I am. 

Walking with society

Is not something I dislike

Just that sometimes...

I out pace myself -

Sometimes running ahead...

And sometimes being left behind.  

It's the feeling of being disconnected

That tears me apart....

Why do I have to choose

Between me and the rest?

Sometimes I,

Just want to stop and listen...

To the sound of the winds,

To the murmuring of the sands.

To the noise of the waves...

To the words in my dreams,

To the thoughts in my mind,

 To the music in my symphony...

But there is no time. 

Too much is at stake...

In choosing me over others.

It's not that I don't like them...

Just that sometimes I'd like 

To experience me being me. 

There are covers...

Layers and layers. 

Nothing that I have put on...

It's just like the dust on a book -

The book lies there innocently...

Untouched....never realizing that

It's being covered....sometimes buried. 

But then it's too late. 

Sometimes I just want

To read a few pages from that book. 

I want to rediscover the creativity

Of the author...

Because sometimes...

Sometimes I feel....

Like there are more authors to me...

Than the one mentioned on my cover! 

Mother

She cried when she saw me first time,

Not from her pain...but from the joy of me being there. 

She cried when I first sat up,

Not from the troubles I gave her..but out of joy for my achievement. 

She cried on my first day of school,

Not because she'd have my homework to look after...but because she couldn't part with me for so many hours. 

She cried when I first failed my exams,

Not because I had disappointed her but out out of fear for wht wud happen to my future. 

She cried when she screamed at me,

Not because she was angry but because she felt hurt after scolding me. 

She cried when I lied to her,

Not because I had broken her trust but because she had felt she was unable to be my friend. 

All her tears that I misunderstood,

She still understood me in the end. 

All her feelings that i misinterpreted,

She always made sure I felt my best. 

The Morning Thought

Early momning,

The bright sunlight, streaming through the blinds,

The movement of life outside, screaming through the quiet.

My dreams are still not over,

Tell reality to wait…

I want one more moment of kingship,

Before I get drowned in the crowd.

Confusion

The games are played,

Is it in our mind?

Or is it really happening?

What is joy?

What is excitement?

Are they chemical reactions?

Or just psychic states!

Are we all delusional?

Or are we part of a much bigger illusion?

When is our mind interpreting meanings,

And when are the facts being understood?

What is actuality?

What is reality?

Are they relative to my perception?

Or are they absolute facts?

Would you prefer a virtual world

With virtual problems

To console that they are not real issues?

Or would you prefer a real world

To be really happy

And experience an emotion for real?

When do you trade

Between fact and fiction?

What do you think is the best deal?

How much of reality would it cost

To be virtually happy forever.

Truth and Lies

Sometimes it's a bliss

To stay under denial. 

Sometimes it becomes difficult

To refuse the truth. 

Sometimes there are voids

That we fill in with lies. 

Sometimes it's best

To confront our lives. 

Truth and lies...

These are complicated perspectives. 

Neither is more real

Than what you choose to believe. 

There are reasons for both to exist,

These are choices that a person makes. 

Neither can be a true judge of character,

These are mere consequences of what is at stake. 

It's ironic...is it not...

That either can hurt someone,

Even though you choose either one,

To reveal what you got, with the least pain. 

I believe in alternate truths

I believe in the coexistence of contradictions. 

I believe in having faith in people...

If they lied...it must be in our best interest. 

Everything is relative...

There exists no absolute. 

Everything is viewed from various angles,

There exists no perfect view. 

Drifting Thoughts

Drifting thoughts

Fading memories. 

Takes a moment to reflect 

But a whole journey back to reality. 

The world in our thoughts

The stories in our mind 

No matter how painful the experience

The recollection always brings a smile. 

The roads left behind

The difficult curves ahead

Waiting for the new footprints to be formed 

Learning from the paths carefully treaded upon. 

Each battle of yesterday

Each a trophy in your Prvt hall of fame. 

The new challenges ahead

Each a level harder in this old game. 

So the choice is yours

Choose your point of view. 

Look at today from yesterday

Inside Out

Chaos confusion everywhere, 

The world everyday seems to be a complicated place. 

Questions arising out of nowhere, 

The answers seem to be drowning in the noise and crowds in our limited space. 

Our existence is challenged and it all seems like a big competition,

Yet we go about doing what we have to, solving a piece of the puzzle step-by-step. 

But is it so mystical and is it truly difficult? 

Or is it just an illusion of confusion that manifests into depair.

Has the dust gathered over my eyes,

Or has it accumulated over the glass of my window.

Maybe everything is still clean and pure,

It's just my thoughts that have become cluttered? 

There's a sense of urgency...

There never seems to be time. 

But when does this clock run out of its numerous hours?

Does anyone know or are we just rushing and trying to live between seconds? 

Sometimes I think it's all self inflicted. 

I can if I want to...

I can feel content, I can feel peaceful, I can be relaxed, I can live free, I can trust, I can be, I can exist without boundaries.

The end of chaos within me can end the confusion in my world! 

Departing

The sense of parting is odd,

Depends which side of the good bye you are waving from. 

Sometimes both ends have the same emotions,

Sometimes one end senses the arms that will be waiting on the other side! 

Which ever the case...

It's either the end or the beginning of an emotional journey. 

And any journey takes you down new paths. 

The destination may be one looked forward to or maybe not. 

Every journey starts at the end of another,

Hence the journeys never stop. 

So the question is whether there really is a destination? 

Or is it just transits between one set of open arms and another set of damp eyes!

There's a meaning to all this,

May appear as madness to some, Appear as a sense of hope to some,

And excitement or thrill or mystery for some. 

It's all relative isn't it?

So many parallels and so many interpretations. 

So many perspectives and so many contradictions. 

One event...but so many outcomes...

The sense of parting is odd!