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Dreams

The Silent Spectator


Living in a sea of dust is an experience in itself. An experience which does not befriend many. And oddly enough the experience is not one that I hate. Living within 50 meters of three JCB’s (showing their extraordinary acrobatic skills), two construction cranes and hundreds of striking hammers is actually thrilling – to say the least. After all, who won’t inhale a ‘bit’ of dust for all the excitement?

Anyways… the fact of the matter is that at the moment, the sea of dust has calmed down. The JCB’s are resting cuddled up in the blanket of this dark night, and the hundred pairs of hands are in their dreamland, carving aspirations of their uncertain future. And I am staring at the top right corner of my laptop which shows 12:15 AM. So all of you those who are, or have been in hostels, a hearty good evening to them. The same goes for all the students in their late teens, inseperable lovers and other nocturnal beings. To the others, sorry for disturbing your midnight sleep.

And what am I actually doing in this sleepy world? Well, one of the most favorite tasks of mine – doing nothing. Really… absolutely nothing. And believe me, this is one of the busiest things in this world. To think nothing at all. Just observe. Be a silent spectator to this silent world which ironically is bubbling with chaos and commotion. Don’t believe me? Okay then…

Think of the security guard strolling around in the hostel. Eyes begging for sleep; mind cursing a moron whose constant stare doesn’t let his eyelids come closer. But is he desperate for a sleep? Nah… Proof? A boy does up to him and asks, “Ki dada? Kemon cholchhe?” (What’s up bro?) and there starts the conversation. Five minutes later, Indian politics becomes the hot topic on the table which a moment ago rested a dozing soul. That person is not really sleepy. He is starving. Starving for company… Battling against boredom in this chilly night.

Nights are subtle, shrewd, mysterious, lonely things. In its embrace lies only silence. But silence has a language of its own. It speaks. It speaks through fear – in the eyes of a girl trapped on a lonely road, trying to get back home. It speaks through tears – in the memory of a long lost love. It speaks through thoughts – in the focused vision of the visionary. It speaks through dreams – to achieve the un-achieved. It speaks through joy – of the ecstatic achievements of the day. It speaks through hopes – of a brighter tomorrow which we may just witness.

A night has a long silent story to tell. And you too can listen to it. All you have to do is be be silent and listen… All you have to be is the silent spectator.

Inspired by The Outsiders

She’s Coming!


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Hearts have waited for so very long

Mind and soul do dance along

The breeze does rush through the grass

And awaits the earth adorned in kaans

 

The drummers await as she comes

A-midst the rhythmic beat of drums

And so do wait the millions of feet

To tap and dance along the street!

 

The pandals get ready as they wait

To house the carrier of dreams great

The sculptors make strokes flawless

As they give form to the formless!

 

Shubho Mahalaya to all of you! Today is the day when Mahishasur Mardini… The destroyer of the deamon Mahishasur was formed. And we all wait as she arrives again as the destroyer of all evils to reside in our hearts…

Let the celebrations begin….

Cradle of Joys


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Patiently waiting for the next dawn

Sleeps the city with a dark blanket on

A blanket so large, A blanket so grand

Beneath which does the world stand

 

Structure-less, formless, and all too void

A scary silence that I wish to avoid

All I see is nothing but a house of fear

But it’s too lonely and I dare not go near

 

But then I stand and closely observe

Patiently and silently as I hold my nerve

And slowly does the beauty emerge

A song of ecstasy is carved out of the dirge

 

Beneath the blanket, the city does breathe

In a land of dreams and hopes underneath

In a land of peace is a music composed

In a land of knowledge are ideas imposed

 

And in the dark, the eyes do dream

Of a peaceful tomorrow; of self esteem

Of a future of hope, of a future so bright

Of a brighter dawn, beyond this night

 

A night is a cradle of ideas and dreams

Of painful memories; experiences extreme

A cradle of love intimate and profound

A cradle of joys, yet to be found

 

Inspired by a poem by Sarmishtha Basu

A Journey called life…


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As molecules combined

and emotions intertwined

One of the true marvels of nature

In a hope for a better future

Created was a life form new

With opportunities and expectations due

 

Society sought a hope, a desire

Someone they thought would have the fire

To reduce the suffering and pains they face

And make the world a better place

 

And hence was nurtured the fate of the boy

Experiencing the tastes of sorrow and joy

Inherited he the knowledge of the greats

Prepared was he for the future that awaits

 

A hope remains as he moves on

Trying to add to the beauty of the dawn

With a will to try till the very end

On the the ladder of success to forever ascend

 

He slips sometimes but never looses sight

Of the ever-guiding beam of light

A desire, a hope and a dream

To bathe in the endless joyous stream

 

To add a true smile to a face

And make him live in a better place

A hope of a victory after the strife

At the end of a journey called life

 

21 years of this journey have passed and I can only hope that this thirst never dies because without this desire, life won’t be worth living…

 

By the way it would be my first birthday in air on the 15th. And yes, I am going back to my motherland India…

Hurray!

 

Next post from the land of culture, tradition and diversity 🙂

When You Meet You


Introspection_by_egovsego

 

Well, this poem poem has two authors…

It was originally posted by my friend pseudomonaz. The second half was added on by me…

 

You look tired,

Your hair is out of place,

There’s sadness in your eyes,

And dullness on your face.

Tell me,

Would you like you if you met you,

If that was the case?

You’ve isolated yourself,

There’s no one you could call,

No one would lend a hand,

If the next moment you fall.

Tell me,

Would you like you if you met you,

Just passing by the mall?

You’ve dreams,

Not a will to make them true.

You wish to fly,

But scared to try anything new.

Tell me,

Would you like you if you met you,

It that was something you were asked to do?

You’ve lost hope,

You don’t believe in god anymore,

Every turn in your life,

Those moments, the drive,

Now make you bore.

Tell me,

Would you like you if you met you,

Just ask your heart’s core?

You don’t love you,

You don’t believe.

You don’t trust you,

You don’t achieve.

Tell me,

Would you like you if you met you,

If this is the way you are going to live?

————————————————

Shattered are dreams;
Among cries and screams.
Deserted is your heart
As you see them depart
All which is left is disgust and fear
A lonely soul with no one near

The ugly, the pale
Burdened with the fail
A lonely boat
Without a sail.

Maybe you won’t like you,
When you met you
But still…
Do meet your heart
When it’s torn apart.

Hear her out
Let her shout
Embrace her with care
As it utters reasons of despair

And then…

When the heart is nothing but void
No one to fear; none to avoid
Feel the joy which is yet again your own
Relive a dream which left you alone

Because…
With a dream in eyes
And life on a rise
You will be amazed by you
If you meet you…

Let the randomness of the universe increase forever…

– Introvert

Batman Dreams


Batman Dreams.

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