Saturday, February 28, 2009

someday......

Someday, maybe, I'll just be independent...just not need a firm shoulder to lean on...just not wait for the phone to ring that will comfort mee...just not wait to see the button green as I login to gtalk...just not expect those sweet nothings on my cell phone's inbox.....I'll stop telling myself that I am capable of fulfilling all my desires.... I'll perhaps know that I suffice.... I'll finally start wearing bright colors... I'll stop thinking about the times we have spent together... the neat little cushion of time that have gone by... it is the most comfortable thing of my life after the cozy corner of my bed....

I have already started feeling swish, and important watching movies alone... I buy myself perfumes and chocolates when I so dearly want them... I go to cool ice-cream parlors and coffee bars in the most posh shopping malls and treat myself with a chocolate brownie with ice-cream or simply black coffee... I'll not find another man...wouldn't mind this obnoxious price I have to pay.... I'll stop bothering about the merciless ridicules....

Someday I'll not need a shoulder....someday I'll sleep on my own....
Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,
And catch, in sudden gleams,
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,
And islands that were the Hesperides
Of all my boyish dreams.
And the burden of that old song,
It murmurs and whispers still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the black wharves and the ships,
And the sea-tides tossing free;
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,
And the beauty and mystery of the ships,
And the magic of the sea.
And the voice of that wayward song
Is singing and saying still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the bulwarks by the shore,
And the fort upon the hill;
The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,
The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er,
And the bugle wild and shrill.
And the music of that old song
Throbs in my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the sea-fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains, as they lay
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay
Where they in battle died.
And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through me with a thrill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the breezy dome of groves,
The shadows of Deering's Woods;
And the friendships old and the early loves
Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves
In quiet neighborhoods.
And the verse of that sweet old song,
It flutters and murmurs still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the gleams and glooms that dart
Across the school-boy's brain;
The song and the silence in the heart,
That in part are prophecies, and in part
Are longings wild and vain.
And the voice of that fitful song
Sings on, and is never still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

There are things of which I may not speak;
There are dreams that cannot die;
There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,
And bring a pallor into the cheek,
And a mist before the eye.
And the words of that fatal song
Come over me like a chill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

Strange to me now are the forms I meet
When I visit the dear old town;
But the native air is pure and sweet,
And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street,
As they balance up and down,
Are singing the beautiful song,
Are sighing and whispering still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair,
And with joy that is almost pain
My heart goes back to wander there,
And among the dreams of the days that were,
I find my lost youth again.
And the strange and beautiful song,
The groves are repeating it still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

JAI HO


Well this years Oscar – It was never this close to my heart. I had worked upon it for months. Writing reviews, gossips and news updates. The 2009 Oscar Prediction keyword went up to rank 3rd in google search engine. I have raised my voice for Slumdog, fighting with all my friends those who predicted the film would be bashed up at the event.

And yes, how happy I was, writing live news updates while the Oscar took place. I was in office since 5 in the morning watching the stars dazzling Red Carpet in designer wear. And I cant express the way I cheered every time Slumdog bagged a nod.

I hear everybody speculate about 8 Oscar nods of the rags to riches story. But hey guys do u remember that the highest degree of cinematic excellence is awarded at the Oscars where films like Titanic take home 11 nods? So what even if the most boring, bespectacled, loaded with intellect, salt and pepper haired cynical critics have written off Slumdog Millionaire? I am happy for my own country's win. I am happy that Rahman has become the first Indian to win 2 Oscars. Whatever it is... I, like an average minded person, only feel that OUR Rahman has swayed 2 Oscar nods.... Now its our Rahman….no more communal colors guys!


Wednesday, February 4, 2009

dark circles



Our love will never end...Every time, I was made to live my life without u, I wished I could tear myself away from the mess...long sleepless nights, pillows dampen with choked sobs, a night-long of wait until random thoughts start rumbling...i walk to gaze at the beggar sleeping on the footpath near the light post on the other side of the window. Without me, I thought the whole world could sleep...even u... Like I desperately want to. Sleep in peace...at least tonight... memories were cluttering in my mind....I dreamt poems I wrote when I fell in love...ten years too late...wish I could borrow my dreams I had dreamt then to see you once....dark circles fill a larger part of my face...if u weren't there I would have my own mornings, my own little triumphs, my won joys and celebrations...i am now a selfish soul...i laugh to see the sadness in his eyes...i puke when my friends share their sorrows with mee....i ball to see him suffer....

Monday, February 2, 2009

We met...after a long time...we were not destined to...yet we met...and as we had thought...we ignored...did he wanna clear d air???...i thought....my heart was beating faster as our eyes met...now it was my turn...i will make him feel like an insect....make him want mee...want to speak to mee...but it's of no use...everything has changed...twas too late...there would be no choice of going back now...hmph...i wish d pages were written in pencil...an eraser would have sufficed...but then d impressions remain...

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