Skip to main content

A lot of tears...

A watershed moment in my life. I cried yesterday. I cried like a baby.
A long long time, it had been. It does not feel nice to be alive today. I am not in the analysis mode today. I am just stating what I feel and how I feel. I walked alone last night on the empty streets, watching for people. it is infact a strange world at night. And the voice. The Voice, I must say.
I somehow reached home and wrote. Something in Hindi. That has happened after a long long time. I wrote poetry. That was rarer still. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes and after I had exhausted my feelings on paper, I let go. I cried and cried.
I woke up and cried and been crying since. People in office seem shocked to see me today. I am in my best clothes, all shaved, proper attire, reddened eyes, swollen sockets. I am a scene, as if it's my burial today.
An addition to "Tu" resulted.

Tu ek hansi khwaab ban ke reh jaa.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Raizada Heritage Fund and Trip to Woodlands

I have a confession to make. We don’t have a sofa at home. We seriously don’t.. Over the last two years, whenever Vartika has broached the touchy topic of a Sofa buy, I have ended up doing rants on how the money saved on not buying a Sofa would be able to feed us for a month, in case startup went bust. (And no, I was not counting on dumb UPA government allowing Sharad Pawar to make billions running amok on the vegetable and cereals market and looting us. In that case, count that sum to last for mere 15 days. That rant is for a separate day) Imagine a 30-40k sofa and me eating it, like the borers mostly do. Tough to imagine and sad to think of. So I return to the sofa tales. Vartika knew I had make her do with those mattresses. You know how dumb I am, relentlessly pointless. Unfortunately I ran into an Ariean, and that too my Mom. She looked at me and the mattresses and then again at me, and I went ballistic. From the sensibility of an accountant, to the eruditeness of an economist (De
Post a Comment
Read more

Can life teach?

It actually began, quite reluctantly. Unnecessary as it may seem, life teaches you what you allow it to teach. Even Life cannot teach you what it offers you. One has to let himself dissolve into the experience and let it sink in, and that I might call religion or education. Whatever the other person is willing to accept. Nay. Does it matter? Nay. Life is about teaching oneself. Being a self-thought-taught "person", picking up bits and pieces from various experiences, I tread on a path; I have myself laid out for myself. Never have I asked, in other words, begged for words, from "messiahs". Never did I think myself of having enough virtue, call it patience, to learn from others. So "rich" were my experiences. Things change, dynamically. Responding to an open question, throwing caution to the winds, I immersed myself into a debate, with people who thought, had streamlined their thinking apparatus and abilities. Gradually, they pestered; read "lee
3 comments
Read more

The void...

I feel empty. I feel raw. I feel rotten. I feel like not feeling. I have nothing to show, if someone to ask me about what I have achieved in my stay on this planet. Nothing. what is a few flirtations with literature, knowledge, pain and sweat. No blood. No tears. No medallions. No gallantry. Ah! I am disgusted with myself for being so ordinary. I deserve the void for I do not work half as hard as I could. I am wasting my life.
3 comments
Read more