Survive some more [short poem]

Beneath the smile,

Lays a wounded soul,

Scars many, a lasting pain,

One more blow, I couldn’t care

Survived so far, will survive some more!

~Sam

P.S: This is my first attempt at a progressive poem- 3 words to 7 words. 

The third kind

How often do we debate about Love marriage vs Arranged marriage? We discuss the pros and cons and I am amazed by people who take a side and defend it. Let me introduce you to the third kind. I belong to this clan.

The third kind:

We are a breed who snickers at people juggling relationships in search of true love. We are the kind who cannot wrap our minds to the concept of arranged marriage/love marriage.  So yes, we are the little lost kids of destiny who have no inclination to take the either of the path in front of us and have no idea what so ever, how to find  our mates.  Our attitude and behaviour is infectious and we can hurl ghastly blows to 'in love' and 'arranged to be married' couples or the mixture of both.

How to identify us:

• 1. If you tell us you love us- we will probably laugh and roll on the floor which might cause you to change your mind.
• 2.  We are usually, perpetually single. We are not mushy and lovesick, nor do we have any dream hero/ dream girl description to tally matrimonial profiles with.  We don’t know you see!
• 3. We are far away from the worldly description of “a suitable bride/groom” and “an ideal girlfriend/boyfriend”. We don’t know how we will be as companions.  Our mind says it will depend on who we finally get tagged with.

Why we don’t get into relationships:

• 1. We hate the whole cycle of – infatuation, dating, in relationship, fights, breakup – poof! We are anyway distressed souls so we leave the drama for the rest of the crowd.
• 2.  Even if it ends on a happy note- we don’t have the patience to reach the stage till you figure out you can live your life in our company.
• 3.  We can be romantic ( psst. read the love poetry I write) enough to confuse you that we are inclined to love. The reality is- we like the idea.. we don’t like the process. And don’t assume we are the sorry heartbroken people. We probably talk about it to ensure ourselves there is an organ that beats in our ribcage.

What we don’t like about arranged marriages:

• 1. Brainless educated jackasses in search of a “disciplined”, fair, slim girl. :d in short an impressive looking doormat :P or a Phoren settled well off chap, a ticket to USA! ;)
• 2. Your FB page and blogs telling us your parent(s) has no clue about the son/daughter you are and that the profile that they have created was keeping in mind what you were like a million light years ago.
• 3. Uploading/Sending pics that look like mug shots taken in rented clothes! The idea of you probably judging us, “Oh can I sleep with that?” – It is sickening!

 But we are a human form and yes we look out for company. I am particularly interested in the penguin style of finding a mate by singing- the song of heart? But,because I am no singing sensation beyond the walls of my home and my happy feet don’t tap. I guess that is not an option.  So, ending on a happy note with song of the heart courtesy: Happy Feet :D

Concealing Images [Short Fiction]

He sat in isolation looking at people around him. The sounds seemed to resonate in the air. He felt a tingling sensation on his back when music flooded through the speakers. His thoughts seemed interrupted as he touched the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt soften the pinch of unfamiliar glasses.  Sipping the drink with caution he regained his focus. Every person who entered the bar was caught in his gaze. He looked at them with stark observation and shifted his eyes back to the next person who walked through the door. An unconscious disappointment emerged between slightly pressed lips every time he looked back at the entrance. As if, he tallied each person against a mental description of someone he seemed too eager to meet.

While he observed these people he seemed to know more about them than he wanted to know. Good people trying to be bad. People caught in the company of the bad. Peer pressure, social obligations all became visible to his eyes. He saw women, trading off their dignity to appear little fashionable and broadminded while their inner souls cringed with disgust. Men gulping down more drinks than they can handle to reinforce their gender as if someone questioned them about it. Little scum bags killing time till they found someone who wouldn’t be able to figure out a few missing notes from their heavy wallets. Bartenders entertaining guests they didn’t care about. Everyone masked by concealing identities.

The tiny chips of mirrors on few of the walls transported him back to his school days when he was made to hold two mirrors in front of each other. He remembered the reflections, his astonishment when he looked in to the mirrors -Infinite images. His life seemed to be trapped in the illusion of these infinite images. A sadness wrapped around his heart when he recollected his ten year old self. He couldn’t identify with himself anymore and yet he could connect to everybody around him. He had been through everything these people were facing and, a lot more. He felt his hands against his face as if to register how his visage looked like. He caught his image of in one of the reflections- a harmless young man dressed like it was his first visit to the place. The image disturbed him. He shut his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to let go of the emotions that seem to suffocate him.  The metallic object tucked at his waist touched his skin and his lips pressed again- disappointment. But this time his eyes didn’t have a shade of regret as if this disappointment was embedded to him and had become a part of his life.

Continue reading..

Written for Captured Writings

Whirling leaf

I am a whirling leaf -with zest in my soul
As, lifeless, I float, to no where

Fallen from tree, into movement of wind

A granted blessing, of a humble prayer

Once clinging, living, feet tied to a bark

Bonding to every strand of life

Merry green and tender when born

Being bound to a place, my only strife

I swayed with the wind, I poured out my heart

Tell me what it feels- like, to fly?

In the end when I am a fallen leaf,

Would you hold me in your arms, when I die?

Take me to where, ever you go

Till I dry, crumble, touch the ground

Let the gust, tear me apart

But grant my wish, let me glide- unbound

~Sam

Leaves [Analogy]

Ever taken time out to feel the life in a leaf? Breathing respiring, digesting- living. I would like think of our lives like that of the leaves. We all breath, survive and live. We all are different. One may be a leaf that blazes red and falls in the Autumn. Some leaves may be multicolored, some battling the unfamiliar bugs/insects eating onto their lives. Some like the mulberry sacrificing lives to be eaten for the birth of another life. Swaying, swinging, getting drench in the rains , living- living. 

Like all the leaves that look very different, that grow in different seasons, that have different life spans that survive in different geographic areas. Our lives, are the same. Some can withstand the blows of deep emotion. Some scrap off their lives without feeling a pinch, some wither and fall out losing hope some withstand and adapt. Some adore the snowfall and get bogged down by it's burden but, remain fresh underneath. Some grow to great heights. Some bend to see sunlight, some need to touch the flowing water  and some need to feel the joy of the wind. 

But whatever it does, it will never cease to be a leaf, it will never exist in independence, it is a part of a tree and it should breath- live and the tree lives. Each leaf working for a greater cause some cautious of it, some naive, innocent. Each leaf wherever it be- it will hold it's chest proud in the sunshine and soak in the rains, it will lick the snow atop and it's only goal is to breathe. 

My whole world [Love poem]

Photographer: http://www.123rf.com/profile_joseasreyes

What does my breath know?

Why I hold it when I see you

What does my time know?

Why it freezes when I think of you

What do my words know?

Why they can’t express, what my eyes do

What do my ears know?

Why in your absence, they can hear you

What does your presence know?

Why it braces, my soul

What does your love know?

Why it defines, my whole world

~Sam

P.S: Am I in love? No. Do I have a crush? No. Did someone break my heart? Nah. I am just gifted. ;)