Magical Lanes

Conversations are like lanes. They can be like a highway on which words flow without hitch and jams. Stopping once in a while to pay toll while sipping a coffee. Just that the toll here is genuine smiles that express the joy of a person to have found someone (or some people)  who understands their words and actions like they do. Who knows a person like a person knows himself or herself. 

Conversations can also be those silent lanes lined with beautiful trees with flowers in full bloom. Where you discover a soul that belongs to you. You slowly walk. Talk carefully. Douse in the beauty of another person by the words spoken.Make your ears and other senses primary organs, live on by picking up tiny things your companion on this lane tries to show you. You can park yourself on a bench and stay in that lane a little longer. Linger on those moments that are rare. When a person walks you through his/her life on these lanes of conversations. When words like the hands of lovers mingle and bind.

Lanes that can be difficult to walk on are like conversations that are difficult to make. Usually one person emerges like a caring one and holds the other little one with words. Like mom who guards her child. Directs one's thoughts and helps one think better. To walk on the same lane and look at it with the same eyes but a different mind.

They can also be the lanes that are barren.  With no other person to talk to. A lane with complicated twists and turns bound to a destination unknown to you. Those conversations are like lanes on which we take up walks,alone, lanes on which we grow. They are the conversations we have with ourself. We walk around and finally reach a place we are comfortable with. A place where we believe we can put our journey to rest only to resume it again. A lane full of sights to forget and beauty to capture. A lane full of hidden treasures of one's nature. 

Conversations are miracles. They are those magical lanes that lead us to us and to others.

Write to me..

Don’t call, just write to me

When you glance at the blue moon

That lights up the sky,

When you sit by a fire and watch

The ambers fly.

Don’t call, just write to me

If you catch the sight,

Of a flower in bloom.

When you walk on a silent lane,

In the month of June.

Don’t call, just write to me

When you connect to a soul,

You never knew.

Or made a kid smile,

Even for a moment or two.

Don’t call, just write to me

When you do something,

You haven’t done before.

Or you want to talk,

About someone you adore.

  

Don’t call, just write to me

Not about your love,

Or what you feel for me. 

But, about the man you are,

And who, you want to be.

Don’t call, just write to me

Cause memories will fade,

But, words cannot tamper.

Don’t call, just write to me,

Not about me, but, about you, on a paper.


~Sam

In simple words!

I can see you bowled over by me

But I like it that you do not show

I can feel your joy when I walk by your side

And I like it that you keep it low

At times I catch you stare

And you shake your head as I glare

I know you get lost in my eyes

But like it when you hide it with simple lies

The way you prefer to hug by a shoulder

Keeping it decent and not getting bolder

Simple ways in which you show some care

You give me my space but, tell me you are there

I can never express my affection

Or tell you how I appreciate this connection

All I can say is, my blood feels like wine

And I am really glad that you are mine.

~Sam

PS: FICTION 

PPS: Really,FICTION!!! ;)

Simple Discomfort!

Poetry Type: Refrain (One line repetition)

When you walk in the crowd,

And we steal glances.

At times catching myself laughing,

On the silly things you say.

I see what I feel for you.

Some attempts to show,

Your better side.

I pay stark attention,

Pick up little good things.

I see what I feel for you.

The days when my friends,

Laugh about your dumb jokes.

And I ruthlessly defend,

My illogical belief in your genius brain.

I see what I feel for you.

Those little moments when,

You stand somewhere close.

My ears picking up your every word,

Hearing you step away or near.

I see what I feel for you

My eyes trained to catch your image,

A silent hope that your’s,

Would catch mine.

I see what I feel for you.

The way you are now a changed man,

More to yourself in a silent corner.

Your heart thrown away,

To that lucky someone.

The contented silly smile,

I see what I feel for you.

But that’s just how crazy,

My sense will let me be.

Express a simple discomfort,

In a silly poem about how,

I see what I feel for you.

~Sam

PS: F.I.C.T.I.O.N (don't get too many ideas!)

You belong to?

"You belong to?" It is a straight forward question. The logical answer to it would be a place.But if you pause and think, rewind and re-look at your life. The answer to this question would have had million alterations. 

I belong to the beach when I laid my eyes on the moving waves and let the water brush up my feet, when I walked in that sand and sunk my fears deep, I took off from the ground let dreams build in the zephyr. I belong to the nature on the chilly morning when I was in awe of the beauty I was fortunate enough to see. I belong to my mom whenever I went crying and she took me in- nothing was spoken but conversations were made. I belong to my sister who caught hold of my hand and told her friends- this is my sister, with proud smile spread across her face.

I belong to all those who thought I was worthy of their conversations. To friends who put faith and shared their fears and little secrets. I belong to the arms that hugged me when in distress. The adamant friends who decided for me that I cannot be left to cry. Those crazy people who had more belief in my abilities than I ever did. I belong to my school- for putting up with all my mischiefs. Silly fights. Punishments.  Embarrassments. Victories. I belong to the guys who decided I was special irrespective of what I felt for them. I belong, in bits and pieces to all people I admire and adore for various reasons. 

I belong to the puppy that playfully jumped into my arms. I belong to grass I lied down on.  I belong to kid who wrapped his hand around my arm. I belong to the elderly with who chose that I accompany them for an evening stroll.

It could be the photographs, images, food, places, conversations and million other indescribable teeny-weeny things that stirred my existence and added little meaning to it. I belong to all of it.

And people ask, "You belong to?" Now, can you give the answer? Is it a place?

55 Fiction #8 "Thinking aloud"

She walked into the restaurant. She suddenly felt too dressed, too stupid, too unprepared. She was unsure. She snubbed crazy infatuations, senseless proposals and meaningless conversations all this while… it was easy saying no. But this time she couldn’t. 

The first thing she said that night – “I am so screwed………………………. Shit I said that aloud!!!!” 

Simple wishes

I want to douse in the sun on a chilly day,

I want to hug the clouds and lie down on the hay.

I want to trot on an unknown terrain,

I want to see the daisy caught in a window pane.

I want to root myself to the ground like a tree,

I want to flutter my wings and fly around like a bee.

I want to be warm like the summer sun,

I want to pour like rain, joy and fun.

I want to sing and hum like a cuckoo bird,

I want to match my steps with a sheep herd.

I want to touch a tree, let the wind tousle my hair.

I want to walk around free, show everything some care.

PS: This was supposed to be a post. But, it was rhyming. So made it a poem. :]

55 Fiction#7: Friendly Gesture?

She scrolled down the long list… one end of her lip tucked beneath her teeth. Her long hair framed her face beautifully. She drummed her fingers on table. Her scroll stopped -she saw a particular name. Her head tilted little right as she tried to recollect- hmm… we studied in first standard together. Add –“friend”?

24 and learning..

Birthdays come and go.. life keeps getting interesting. =)

1. Learnt to save and learnt to spend
2. Have been out of cash and have had excess of cash
3. Have slapped and have been slapped
4. Flunked  and  Aced  an exam
5. Found good and bad friends
6. Was taken advantage of and took advantage
7. Have been shouted at and have been praised in public
8. Disappointed some people at times and made some people proud
9. Have been let down by many and have let down a few
10. Misunderstood people and was misunderstood by people
11. Learned to get angry and learned to calm down
12. Have laughed at and have been laughed at
13. Took care of someone close and was taken care of by someone close
14. Shared my secrets and kept secrets for few
15. Have been ignored and have ignored
16. Took and gave advice
17. Refused a job offer and took up a job offer
18. Laughed and cried uncontrollably irrespective of the surroundings
19. Won and lost sports matches
20. Made and lost a few friends
21. Respected people and was respected
22. Made use of some opportunities and lost a few
23. Talked my heart out to some and have lent my ear to a few
24. Have been embarrassed and have been proud of who I am       

Butterfly mind

A butterfly is a tiny beautiful life of million colours. It forms different shades as it flutters by. It has no fixed destinations. It sits on what it pleases and flies when its interest ceases.

What different is our mind, beautifully coloured with a zillion thoughts? Fluttering in different directions? Restless at one time and focused as it rests. Moving from one thought to another one interest to another? Sometimes lazing like a butterfly pupa munching on leaves waiting for that moment to let wings adorn it. To turn from a cylindrical single coloured mass to a colourful butterfly with ability to fly as it pleases? Don’t we too wait for artistic thoughts, creative bends, that right mood to think important things through?

Like little kids who try to hold the butterfly by clipping its wings- we try to hold our mind to one thing. We try to focus. We hold it on. Like the delicate colourful wings of a butterfly our thoughts get tarnished by the pinch of the hold. We lose the focus. We become weak. Like a butterfly with damaged wings our mind rests paralyzed.

Letting go is all it takes to let you mind free. Like a little butterfly it will fly in different directions. It will shift places, take positions, sit near the light or sit in the dark. Fly around a flower or settle on a wall. But eventually the mind will rest. It will come and sit on your life -gaining the ability to think as you please. It will be calm if you ask it to be. If will be creative and fly off to return to the same place if you train it to do so. It will remain grounded if you teach it to be humble. It will be flamboyant and flash its colour if you pamper it too much. It will move in herds and choose colourful company or it will fly alone.

But all this will happen only if you let it fly and not clip its wings. If you don’t drag it down by burdening it with unnecessary extras. Like a butterfly the mind needs to be light. The thoughts like shades of colour should add beauty to the destination where the mind like a butterfly rests.

Mind like a butterfly should add beauty as it flutters by!