Thoughts #2 – Edge

03:13 AM

I often wonder why do I do what I do? And where does all this eccentricity come from. I guess it comes from the desire to stay as close to the edge as possible without going over. Because you know, out on the edge you see all kinds of things that you can’t see from the centre.

The chilling silence before the turbulent storm,
The tormented clouds about to outpour,
Or the damning tides of the ocean
Destined to come and go.

 

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Thoughts #1

02:51 AM

He wasn’t raised by writers, he wasn’t raised by bankers but he fantasizes writers and he fantasizes bankers. You know why that is? May be, it is because the lingua franca of both the kind is same – fiction. Two different worlds at the outset, one personality trait at the core.

Stale cigarettes smoke
Cheap cologne
And a whiff of existential despair.

A thousand dollar suits
Tall glasses of Manhattans
And a whiff of existential despair.

Far away yet not so far

How far are we from the chaos,
Far away, yet not so far.

The city is chasing us
With all it’s madness,
With all it’s frenzy
And all it’s hysteria.

There’s noise in the city,
No music, just noise.
The chaos of a harmonic cacophony
The hustle, the struggle and the noise.

It’s chasing us with all it’s might
Wanting to swallow us alive
And with us, it’d swallow our dreams.
Our desires to yearn for the serene
The soothing calm and our poise

It’ll swallow our peace
The peace we never had
It’ll leave us empty and hollow
And make us really sad.

How far do we need to go, then?
Far away, yet not so far.

– देव। 31.12.18

A nomad’s paradise

Diu

Far away, in a distant land
There is a world of its own
It attracts only a distinct crowd
For it’s magic is not known.

It is quiet, it is serene.
It is vacant and pristine.
Quaint alleys, empty road
It is an unworldly abode.

The palm groves plush green,
The soft yellow sand
Squinty eyes of a winter afternoon
And the sun-kissed tan.

Vivid shades of colour blue
The ocean, the sky — and
Flock of sea birds cruising above us
To the waves, they ran.

The shore of that virgin island
A nomad’s paradise.
Each wave weaving a story
Kept us fixated, enticed.

.

.

– In the memory an island unlike any other. And, inspired by Robert Frost’s style of picturesque poetry.
– Dev. 12.12.18.

 

Unkept promise

Unrest of an unkept promise
Cannot rest in
Fickle hearts

Don’t begin a story
That ends well before
It starts.

What lies in tomorrow
Are crimson lies
Of tomorrow.

All this glamour that you
Dazzle in will only end
In sorrow.

The relics of yesterday
And the ruins of a
Broken past

Should not be a penance
That leaves you wincing
And aghast.

Unrest of an unkept promise
Cannot rest in
Fickle hearts.

थक गया हूं मैं!

थक गया हूं मैं
इस होड़ में
दौड़ते-दौड़ते
इस दौड़ में
थक गया हूं मैं!

कहां था, कहां हूं, कहां जा रहा हूं,
ना सोचने का वक्त है
ना पूछ सकूं
उतना सख्त हूं
और इस नकाब के बोझ से
दब गया हूं मैं
इस दौड़ में
थक गया हूं मैं!

शहर की इस भीड़ में
अब मुझे अपनी छवि भी
धुंधली सी दिखाई देती है
चारों तरफ मेरे आस-पास
झूठे दर्द की नुमाइश है
परेशानी जैसे मुफ्त में बिकती है

नहीं रहा जाता यहां, वहां जा रहा हूं
आवाज लगा रही है
सपनों वाली नगरी जो
दौड़ा चला जा रहा हूं
अब इन ख्वाहिशों की चींख से
टूट गया हूं मैं
इस दौड़ से
थक गया हूं मैं!

थक गया हूं मैं
इस होड़ में
दौड़ते-दौड़ते
इस दौड़ में
थक गया हूं मैं!

– dev.

Are we there yet?

Most of us ask this question, when on a bus or in a train, “are we there yet?” and more often than not, we know the answer to the question and yet we keep asking “are we there yet” because the temptation is irresistible, the temptation to make it to the destination, to the finish line. We know the train will reach the station at 8:00 AM in the morning and yet 6:00 AM to 8:00 AM feels like forever, because we know how close we are, how. close. And this optimism is the spirit that fuels the engines of our hearts and keeps us driving no matter how far the destination is.

Contrary to the popular belief, there are fragments of us which are not really binary at the very core. We, human beings are not really binary, deep down – our emotions differentiate us from the rest of the mammals. We are very well aware that it takes seconds for our life to take a turn (for better or worse) and yet we wait with utmost optimism for the train to reach the station. We could think of ways to save ourselves if the train derails or if there is any other unforeseen emergency but we choose to eagerly wait for the end of the journey with optimism. Interesting, isn’t it?

And this arduousness of the journey and the impatient temptation makes the travelling all the more interesting, the longing to break free from the shackles of the routine and the regimen you’re trapped in. And a lot of times, it is not even the destination that really matters as much as the fact that you’re ‘going away’. In the desire to run away to a certain place, the ‘running to’ is given a lot more importance and in the due course, we tend to forget about the ‘running from’ part and hence we ask, “ARE WE THERE YET?”

I often think about how we never appreciate how beautiful our own cities are. Marvels of amazement scattered all around us and yet we don’t take notice but when we are on a vacation or travelling we never stop capturing moments on our phones! Why? We have thousands of stories unfolding in our own homes that we choose to ignore and yet we look for stories in places where they don’t exist, once we step out of our homes. Why?

Is it because we have more appreciation for the new and the unknown and we take our own for granted?
Or is it because we feel obligated to tell the world that we’re are ‘sophisticated’ creatures too who have been to different places?
Or is it because the journey from breaking the shackles of the mundane and the ordinary to reach that other place has been so tiring that we have a newfound appreciation for the world we live in?
Or is it because the temptation to ‘reach’ was so infuriating that everything the destination has to offer seems magical – even when it is not?

Or is it because we’re in a constant whimsical chase of never-ending happiness when we know damn well it doesn’t exist.

May be we like to live in denial (or optimism) and thus we never stop asking –
ARE WE THERE YET?

dev. – 21.10.18

Maybe

A note to selfMaybe:

At the crossroads of Life,
I often find myself thinking that
Maybe right now I don’t need love.
Maybe right now is too early to be fixated
Maybe I need to expand my horizons,
Maybe I need to work on myself
Maybe I need travel across different oceans,
Maybe I need to meet more people who will inspire me,
Maybe I need to find more people
Who are outliers and outcasts and rebels
And are not bogged down by this mundane system.
Maybe I need to find souls that are free as a bird,
Souls who have the freedom
To chose where to go,
Who to be and
What to do
Without having another human being
To think about.
Without having another human being
To judge them
Maybe there is hope for me,
Or maybe, I’m just another loner
And want to be left alone
Until I’ve gotten
What I had set out to achieve.
Maybe, I like to work in silence.
Maybe.

– dev.

A jaywalker and a sad old man

 

The best thing one can do when it’s raining, is to let it rain.

– H.W. Longfellow

It was a not so busy evening in the month of July and I was riding back home from office. I like to listen to music during my commute, it’s therapeutic; but oddly enough, I wasn’t listening to music on that ride home which is strange now that I think about it, I guess it would have been one of those days when your mind is not in the right place. And half way through the ride it started drizzling. It was pleasant but then that drizzle shaped into a heavy downpour. Oddly enough, even the downpour seemed pleasant to me. So I stopped and waited for the downpour to come to a halt so that I can go home without getting drenched.

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I stood there, at a bus stop opposite to the beach under the shed and I watched the world around me take shape. There was a homeless man finding shelter in the same bus stop, there were a couple of dogs drenched to the very fur and looked pitiful, running and trying to make sense of the rain. There were a couple of other corporate monkeys who also parked their bikes beside mine and were also waiting eagerly for the rain to stop so that they can go home to the dear ones, AND then… there was a man who was jaywalking in the alleyway between the highroad and the beach and that man was jaywalking without a care in the world. He had some music on and by the looks of it, he looked neither rich nor poor and had a zen-like smile on his face almost as if he was the only man blessed with ‘this’ life. I saw him walk towards the bus stop, he smiled and walked right past it. In a few minutes, the rain stopped.

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And when I resumed my commute, I saw an Indigo/Blue Audi pull up next to me at the signal. It was a lovely car and the window glasses were down and I happened to see an old chap driving the car. The old man was fat and balding and didn’t appear in the best of his spirits. He was smoking a filtered cigarette and looked really sullen and glum. On the stereo, “Whatever It Takes – by Imagine Dragons” was playing in the mellow and the song did not have that much of an effect on him as it had on me, I mean. He was just sitting there, motionless, but for taking a puff and staring at the road ahead of him. I couldn’t make much of it at that point in time because by the time I was done playing ‘Sherlock’ the signal turned green and the Audi rushed past me.

Oddly enough, “Whatever It Takes” was playing on my music player last night and a  plethora of fleeting thoughts gushed through the floodgates of my mind – What would both of those men be doing today? Is the sad man in the Audi still sad and the blissful jaywalker still blissful? Or have they swapped places now and things are different? Were they really sad or really happy or was it just me attaching different meaning to different scenarios. May be, the old man was just pissed at the rain and the jaywalker had a great day in general? And why did I presume whatever I presumed?” 

Well, whatever it is, I hope both those brothers of the world are sleeping in peace tonight.