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London, United Kingdom
The old faded picture in the profie- that isn't me... It is Anastasia- Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova... quite a mouthful, isn't it? Her story - the fabled Grand Duchess of the erstwhile Russia-apparently the only survivor who escaped the violent mass murder of her family in 1918 in the Bolshevic Revolution... Her daring occasionally exceeded the limits of acceptable behavior. And why her? Its her name- Anastasia: "the breaker of chains" or "the prison opener". And another meaning of her name is "RESURRECTION" Means there would never be an END

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Talk to me like lovers do

Talk to me like lovers do.
Tell me about the good in man.
I've seen my shades of black.
Show me the world of colour again.
I know of hardships and reality.
But I want the land of dreams
Take me there, where lovers go.
I want to know how safe life can seem.

Tell me good isn't over.
Take me away from tears.
Tell me fairy-tales can be true.
Tell me there are no reasons to fear
I know that life's not easy.
Tell me it would be with you.
Show me the land of candies again.
Talk to me like lovers do.

Oh! I know of hoping against hope
Lay back the assurance and the trust
Give me back some of the child I had.
Tell me trusting you won't hurt.
I know I can be strong.
Tell me I don't need to with you.
Tell me you will be strong for me.
Talk to me like lovers do.

Friday, May 8, 2009

That's his soul

"That is his soul!" she exclaimed.
She had seen it only through the cloudy drapes
all the years appearing muddy and shrunken.
No soul so foul, so treacheous in its being. No!
But She had never seen it so clean now.

She saw it rise, as she dropped her tears to the earth
she saw his soul removed from the cloudy drapes
and it was as clean as an angel's...

Like a new child, bathed in his blood he
clean and pure, his soiled soul now free

but that is his soul! she thought
oh but she had wrongly judged
now, life went past, like spring breeze
she saw his soul too late
she bade it farewell, and sealed her fate

Travel we do

Before we reach the Arms cradling love,
the heaven-enwrapping tassels of the angels
and the embracing bosom of Mother Earth
we travel and
seek in the darkness, we do,
The love, the glory and the pride...
Convoluted and corrupted, is what we get
*For we see through a glass darkly,
and the truth, before it is revealed to all,
face to face, we see in fragments.
Before we make Earth our Mother again
And the journey from our life to Her Motherhood
is but a moment....
though travelling through which, is an Age....


* taken from the Bible 1 Corinthians 13:12

Monday, May 4, 2009

Tears


Oh Tears! I say... Yes you....
You've been with me all these years, haven't you?

You were there, rolling down my cheeks, consoling and warm
When my soul left my side, leaving me guilty and unarmed

You went through my body, like the lump in my throat
You hugged me like my blanket when the nights felt cold

You went through my breath with the melancholic sighs
You stayed embedded in me, like crystals in my eyes

Now look! How my eyes shine because of you!
Loyal you've been, and you're still seeing me through.

Tears! Will you leave ever, leaving me alone?
Walk away like my world did, and be gone?

I fear the loneliness, which is ever so close
It is taking me into its shadows, and I lose.

Alone as I get more alone, I lose my soul.
I've fought battles and won, only to lose it all.

My strengths depleted, my support is but weak
I stand alone, and friendless as these words I speak.

A foreign land weakening my will
How I fight, I don't know still!

May be it is you who still stands by me
without you, I am as lonely as I can be.....

Monday, January 5, 2009

The God called "Tequila"

Tequila- the small, water-look-alike liquid. It was a cold night. I didn't know that the hippie-heaven Goa could be so cold. I sat freezing on a bench at the party, with a sore throat, sniffing nose and Out-of-Place persona. I just didn't know anyone there. Only the bar counter seemed inviting. So I walked up and took a shot. Now, I'm glad I did.
It was fire going down into my ice-cold belly. I needed that heat. For sometime it took away me into a comfortable and known zone. I took 4 more. And I went and sat back on the park bench in the party. Loneliness was now inviting and peaceful. I sat and observed. I felt warmer and happy. I wasn't high. I was away. I was cut-off. My friends were all there, in front of me. But I wanted to sit away. I know I can be weird.
The EDM, the dimly-lit garden and coconut trees and the thought of being in the land of sun-and-sand. It could be likened to heaven- hmmm some what heaven.
It didn't last forever though.
I could feel the effect of the tequila wearing off, like a magic potion losing its desired results. I felt the cold wind and I could feel the mosquitos biting on my calves. I had somehow become immune to the sounds and noise. But it was wearing off and I could hear the badly-dressed sluts, asking their one-night-stands to remember their names. Odd and Annoying and Spectacular.
I do not know the side-effect effects of the Tequila God in the lost state of Goa.
But I wasn't being able to breathe. I gasped for air and somehow got reminded of the loneliness again. My feet kept moving to the EDM, but the head swarmed through space somewhere.
Alone in the crowd, when I thought I would be the crowd. I felt like a High God in my strange elements, away and aloof. Under the coconut tree in Goa.

Only consolation I found was in typing this inane article on my cellphone. The desparate urge to write came with the big gasps of air. I needed to survive with in these words I wrote.
Next night, I lay sipping hot coffee, watching really cute firangs in the candle-light, listening to the soulful voice of Celine Dion, telling me about these "Precious Times", while i gaze on the starlit skies, lying on a comfy hammock- I'm living!
I know this is what life should be. Life will be such.
Home away from home.
I know I will sit back on my arm chair when I am old and reminiscise about the day in the years to come.
Viva la Goa (with due applause to the tequila).

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Dear Mumbai


Scared and scarred with the recent upheavals, I know you still run busy and hectic with life.

You have been the final destination of my cloudy dreams, and I have always chased those little butterflies right into your heart. Some I caught and some I lost.
I have fought battles. Some I lost and some I won.
I found love in you, and I lost them here too.
I got my heart broken in front of you, and I mended it with my own hands living with you.
I became a woman in your womb. And I learnt to love myself.
You taught me to question and search for the answers.
You taught me never to give up hope even in the bleakest of times.
You have made me angry, frustrated, and build with in me a sea of volatile strength, which grows each time with each loss.
Never had I experienced the pinch of life and stumbled on way.
But I did that walking on your streets.
You pushed me and bullied me around and you made me stronger than most,
You have shown me the stars and held my feet to the ground.
You have shown me the glamour and stopped me from joining them.
You taught me never to cling to the brightest of the lights, because they will fade sooner than I know.
You have taught me so much and I can’t put words to all that.
You have tried and tested me and made a warrior out of me.
I grew to from a naïve kid to a rebel to a thinker.
I grew from a masochist to a lover of life, from a cynic to a hopeful.
I learnt to take chances and I learnt to live more.
I survived you and I survived in you.
I lost, I learnt, and I grew.

Now as I sit here today, I know I will be bidding you farewell with in a decade of days.
I know, I will not be missed very much, and that is a part of your charm.
You can live without any one, but no one can live without you.
I know I will visit you in the years to come only to witness passive memories, because I will dwell on them when I leave you.
I will witness changed souls and distanced relationships. And somewhere regret the changes.

But I will not regret the times spent together, and the joys you have brought me in all these years.
And I will not regret the tears I cried, because every pain has very much made me what I’m today.
You made me what I am today- A woman, a thinker, a rebel.

Thanks for making me fall in love with me and for everything else left unsaid.

Lots of love and God bless!!

Goodbye!

Ipsa

Monday, December 1, 2008

The blood bath in the city not so long ago, has left all of us scarred and desolate. Yes, we saw all the crying souls. Our hearts feel torn. We feel the lump in our throats and the anger in our blood.

So many questions, posed to our “leaders”. Slack and inept, incapable and slow- our leaders.
But why blame them- WE elected them.

I don’t want to blame anyone, anywhere- no blame-games, no unnecessary criticism, and no expectations from our so-called “leaders”.

I blame myself alone, for electing such nincompoops and spineless characters as our policy-makers.
I blame myself, for only lighting a candle and taking a peach-march at the immense loss of lives.
I blame myself for breaking rules in this country.
I blame myself for bribing the traffic cops, the peons, the “babus” in the govt. and the rest.
I blame myself for not paying my fine, when I’m caught at the signal, breaking rules.
I blame myself for evading taxes, and hoarding money
I blame myself for lying.
I blame myself for forgetting my role in making this country what it has become.
I blame myself for not contributing to the country as much as I can.

Our leaders will be only as good as we are, so I blame myself.

Do you?