Khud se khafa the hum
Zamaane se the bezaar
Jab hans kar kisi ne mera naam pukaar liya
Chupke se daaman kheencha
Aur pyaar se haath thaam liya
In raaston mein jahaan saaya bhi saath chod deta hai
Ek humsafar jo chup chaap mere saath chalta hai
Mujhse kuch bhi nahin maanga usne
Shaayad kuch tha hi nahin dene ko,
yeh ehsaas tha usse
Bas khamoshi se mere saath ho liya
Chupke se mera daaman kheencha
Aur pyaar se haath thaam liya.
Ek thandi hawaa ke jhonke ke saath
Ek naye khilte phool ki khushboo aayi
Saawan mein pehli boond,
jhoomte garajte baadal nein barsaayi
Ek nanhi si chiriya…kahin se daana chug kar laayi
Mujhe diya…aur kaha…chalo baant lete hain is daane ko
Kayi din se bhookhi ho tum…
muddat hui ,maine bhi kissi ke saath daana nahin baanta
Aur maddham si awaaz mein ek nanha sa geet gungunaya usne
Haule se mera naam pukaara usne
Chupke se daaman kheencha
Aur pyaar se haath thaam liya
Jaane kahan se, ek nanhi si chiriya mere dil mein aayi…
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Spirit i'm kindered to
they tell me that i'm wrong
by standards they set themselves
they tell me i'm vicious and they tell me i need to be strong
they tell me i need to hold onto the values that i brought along
they tell me how to live each day
and they tell me, that for a sinner, im easy prey
i've heard them talk all my life
and still i ne'r did refrain
from doing the one best thing i knew
- living for those that i choose
people, work, values and more.....
i have lived my life with the desire to be just me
to the perfected core
regardless of their ire
i've lived it to be human that the Creator meant me to be
i've lived to not hear them speak
but to create a verse of my own....
for long now i have lived so quiet
i gave in to feel i need to try
for i believed in the hope that someday they'll know
i lived in the hope that soon they'll figure it out.
today, as i bask in the glory of the shining sun
and as i walk thru the pelting rain
i feel the power of the winds that can blow away
i feel the power of the sun to annihilate
and the rain to wash away...
that's the power i feel under the skin
that's the fire that burns thru my soul
the power that holds me within
that's the spirit i'm kindered to...
for thats the only spirit i would graciously,
surrender to.
by standards they set themselves
they tell me i'm vicious and they tell me i need to be strong
they tell me i need to hold onto the values that i brought along
they tell me how to live each day
and they tell me, that for a sinner, im easy prey
i've heard them talk all my life
and still i ne'r did refrain
from doing the one best thing i knew
- living for those that i choose
people, work, values and more.....
i have lived my life with the desire to be just me
to the perfected core
regardless of their ire
i've lived it to be human that the Creator meant me to be
i've lived to not hear them speak
but to create a verse of my own....
for long now i have lived so quiet
i gave in to feel i need to try
for i believed in the hope that someday they'll know
i lived in the hope that soon they'll figure it out.
today, as i bask in the glory of the shining sun
and as i walk thru the pelting rain
i feel the power of the winds that can blow away
i feel the power of the sun to annihilate
and the rain to wash away...
that's the power i feel under the skin
that's the fire that burns thru my soul
the power that holds me within
that's the spirit i'm kindered to...
for thats the only spirit i would graciously,
surrender to.
Friday, September 11, 2009
i am blessed
at times i feel like removing some of my earlier posts here...for they are no longer relevant to me today...but then its also nice to note how my mind has evolved...and how what i once thought impossible is not just possible but i find myself thanking God that it did become possible :-).
strange are the ways our mind works...but its a good feeling...to know you've been blessed !!
strange are the ways our mind works...but its a good feeling...to know you've been blessed !!
Why would you do this?
Yeah I know now how, in my psyche, I gauge whether or not I am precious to someone I love, and to what extent…or maybe that’s a mechanism I have found that works for me but this also got me thinking about the fact that if I am, as a woman so precious to the one I love then how or why would he hurt me?
Being women we often give so much of ourselves without really calculating the extent of our giving that we oftentimes do not see that what we are giving is not just love…we are giving away our own self…piece by piece... A woman who knows no other way of living but this…she walks this earth for the man she loves…that woman is at times physically beaten up and brutally so by the very same man…and still she goes on loving him…is she stupid or is something else at play here, I think I’ll figure out later…but the one question that’s nagging me is what makes a man do that?
Sensible, intelligent, educated and worldly wise men, corporate successful guys…go home, get drunk and beat up their wives. At times they beat up their wives even without an excuse of having had alcohol. Some of these men, young, outgoing…who know their way around the social and the corporate world…abuse their girlfriends. At times physically and other times emotionally. What makes a man do that?
I am no authority on male psychology or psychology per se that I can figure it out by analyzing a few sample cases. The way I see it, is that a man who can fall to the levels of degrading his woman to this extent has of course taken some form of a beating in the world outside the realm of his own home…a man so possessed by self degrading complexes that he knows only one way of proving to himself that he is worth a lot more than the world gives him credit for, and that way is by showing his power over another human being. Who better than the one woman who is more than willing to give up her entire life to be with him? Who better than the woman who lives every moment of her life to make him happy…she cooks the food he likes, wears the clothes he likes, listens to the music he likes, meets the people he likes, reads the books he recommends, loves his parents as her own…socializes with his friends for he likes it…(what happened to her friends, her family?)…well, obviously she best qualifies for the benign gift!!!
They may have dual or multi personality disorders…but such men who on the face of it appear so calm, so gentle…at times can have such animals hidden inside of them, animals that surface in their weakest of moments. Moments when they are actually deluding themselves of being powerful…of having the power to rule the world…no one…absolutely no one can question their authority…that’s when they turn into brutal woman beating animals.
Some people I have noticed need to make all others around them appear small in order to feel bigger themselves …be it at work or in a social set up…those people resort to this form of dominion also…for they feel the woman will “understand” especially for after such an episode the very same man goes begging forgiveness of her…and yeah, she does forgive him. In fact for a period of time, at times this period lasts a lifetime, at others a few years (if she’s lucky) she even makes excuses for his behavior…not just to the world, provided it gets to know, but even to herself…until the day the scars appear to be ugly even to herself. That day she chooses to say her piece.
And on this day begins yet another episode of the story. To begin with, the man would often not believe that this is the same woman who he for all these years thought was ever understanding…one who would never realize how much and in what ways he’s abused her…a woman he thought did not even have a voice or if she did, she would never be able to raise it against him. And the moment he realizes she means what she’s saying, that this time round she’s genuinely hurting and this time round it’s not an emotional tantrum, his cries of helplessness and of needing her help and forgiveness begin. His tears that show how much he loves her, flow ever so profusely…as he tries to hold her hand but her fingers slip out of his grasp and quietly, she walks away.
If only he’d known earlier…the price, the loss…maybe he doesn’t care…maybe he does…
Being women we often give so much of ourselves without really calculating the extent of our giving that we oftentimes do not see that what we are giving is not just love…we are giving away our own self…piece by piece... A woman who knows no other way of living but this…she walks this earth for the man she loves…that woman is at times physically beaten up and brutally so by the very same man…and still she goes on loving him…is she stupid or is something else at play here, I think I’ll figure out later…but the one question that’s nagging me is what makes a man do that?
Sensible, intelligent, educated and worldly wise men, corporate successful guys…go home, get drunk and beat up their wives. At times they beat up their wives even without an excuse of having had alcohol. Some of these men, young, outgoing…who know their way around the social and the corporate world…abuse their girlfriends. At times physically and other times emotionally. What makes a man do that?
I am no authority on male psychology or psychology per se that I can figure it out by analyzing a few sample cases. The way I see it, is that a man who can fall to the levels of degrading his woman to this extent has of course taken some form of a beating in the world outside the realm of his own home…a man so possessed by self degrading complexes that he knows only one way of proving to himself that he is worth a lot more than the world gives him credit for, and that way is by showing his power over another human being. Who better than the one woman who is more than willing to give up her entire life to be with him? Who better than the woman who lives every moment of her life to make him happy…she cooks the food he likes, wears the clothes he likes, listens to the music he likes, meets the people he likes, reads the books he recommends, loves his parents as her own…socializes with his friends for he likes it…(what happened to her friends, her family?)…well, obviously she best qualifies for the benign gift!!!
They may have dual or multi personality disorders…but such men who on the face of it appear so calm, so gentle…at times can have such animals hidden inside of them, animals that surface in their weakest of moments. Moments when they are actually deluding themselves of being powerful…of having the power to rule the world…no one…absolutely no one can question their authority…that’s when they turn into brutal woman beating animals.
Some people I have noticed need to make all others around them appear small in order to feel bigger themselves …be it at work or in a social set up…those people resort to this form of dominion also…for they feel the woman will “understand” especially for after such an episode the very same man goes begging forgiveness of her…and yeah, she does forgive him. In fact for a period of time, at times this period lasts a lifetime, at others a few years (if she’s lucky) she even makes excuses for his behavior…not just to the world, provided it gets to know, but even to herself…until the day the scars appear to be ugly even to herself. That day she chooses to say her piece.
And on this day begins yet another episode of the story. To begin with, the man would often not believe that this is the same woman who he for all these years thought was ever understanding…one who would never realize how much and in what ways he’s abused her…a woman he thought did not even have a voice or if she did, she would never be able to raise it against him. And the moment he realizes she means what she’s saying, that this time round she’s genuinely hurting and this time round it’s not an emotional tantrum, his cries of helplessness and of needing her help and forgiveness begin. His tears that show how much he loves her, flow ever so profusely…as he tries to hold her hand but her fingers slip out of his grasp and quietly, she walks away.
If only he’d known earlier…the price, the loss…maybe he doesn’t care…maybe he does…
Sunday, August 30, 2009
a flirty little song
Can i write you a song my love
Can i paint you a picture
Can i hold your hand and take you on a journey
And take both our dreams along?
For all i see around me here is broken hearts
and shattered lives
I no longer wish to hide
I wanna go for this ride
Can i hold your hand take you along?
I feel the warmth of the sun on my face
And yeah, i smell the earth that's bathing in the rain
I can touch the rainbow and hold it in my hand
as i turn to see you smile
i wanna go for this ride...
Can i write you a song my love
and paint your world in hues that shine
Can i whisper your name so it wakes you up
In the dead of the night
Can i turn into soft breeze that blows over your window
Can i turn into the moonlight that peeps into your room
Can i turn into the little bird that twitters each morning on your ledge
or maybe i could warm your face
as the sun shine through your curtain every morn
Can i hold your weary head in my arms
Can i offer a home to the gypsy in your soul?
No, i no longer want to hide
I so wanna go for this ride
Can i paint you a picture...can i write you a song????
Can i paint you a picture
Can i hold your hand and take you on a journey
And take both our dreams along?
For all i see around me here is broken hearts
and shattered lives
I no longer wish to hide
I wanna go for this ride
Can i hold your hand take you along?
I feel the warmth of the sun on my face
And yeah, i smell the earth that's bathing in the rain
I can touch the rainbow and hold it in my hand
as i turn to see you smile
i wanna go for this ride...
Can i write you a song my love
and paint your world in hues that shine
Can i whisper your name so it wakes you up
In the dead of the night
Can i turn into soft breeze that blows over your window
Can i turn into the moonlight that peeps into your room
Can i turn into the little bird that twitters each morning on your ledge
or maybe i could warm your face
as the sun shine through your curtain every morn
Can i hold your weary head in my arms
Can i offer a home to the gypsy in your soul?
No, i no longer want to hide
I so wanna go for this ride
Can i paint you a picture...can i write you a song????
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
How precious am I?
How precious are you? How do you get to know that…how important am I to the one person who is most precious to me? That’s the simplest one to my mind now, well, now that I know the difference…
Remember how carefully locked away you keep that one rock of a diamond that you saved up all your life to buy? Or that gadget that you bought online after very careful consideration or that camera that you asked a million friends, even posted a query on facebook to check if you’re buying the right thing…and that crystal that you never let your nails touch for fear of scratching it? You carefully wipe the dust off the crystal and enjoy the light shining through it in all its multi colored hues…this makes you smile to yourself…and if you’ve been blessed…when you held your new born for the first time and each time you hold her…you hold her ever so gently. And, your heart skips a beat when someone asks to hold her while you finish up your chores…you wrap her up in the softest of sheets so her skin does not touch anything any less…you hold her so gently…warm in your arms…you run your fingers on her soft body as she gurgles…as you massage her soft skin with the most gentle of oils off the market shelf…that’s the memory that becomes a part of your soul...
And then you go through life with its many twists and turns…relationships, bitter - sweet, memories that make you cry…make you smile…and every time your life takes a turn, the question how precious am i?
If you value a crystal, a book that’s a classic or a painting that you created years ago with such care then how can you treat your love otherwise? If you’ve gone through life looking for that one soul that’s part of your being and the one person whose memory makes you smile at how she does the little things that she knows would make you happy…if all she wants is to be in your arms…is not looking for any tall promises…not looking for any big dreams…when all her world is right there in your arms…the moment you walk into her home her life…it’s almost as her world shrinks into that tiny little cottage…then how can you treat her otherwise? Why wouldn’t you hold her gently in your arms and want to protect her from the dust and the grime? Why wouldn’t you love her like she is the most precious thing on this earth to you? Would you ever in your worst moments be able to damage her being, be it physically or emotionally? Wouldn’t you do all in your power to preserve that spirit that makes yours soar? Wouldn’t you hold her and touch her ever so gently so her skin doesn’t get scathed? Wouldn’t you run your hands on her body with as much reverence as you feel when you’re standing in the rain getting cleansed and your soul released…as you see the tiny droplets of dew slipping off a new born leaf?
That’s the only way I know how precious I am to the one soul that I belong to…emotionally and physically…when I feel preserved and protected…when I am not scared of a scar that will keep haunting me for the rest of my life…that’s how precious I am…that’s how I know...the difference.
Remember how carefully locked away you keep that one rock of a diamond that you saved up all your life to buy? Or that gadget that you bought online after very careful consideration or that camera that you asked a million friends, even posted a query on facebook to check if you’re buying the right thing…and that crystal that you never let your nails touch for fear of scratching it? You carefully wipe the dust off the crystal and enjoy the light shining through it in all its multi colored hues…this makes you smile to yourself…and if you’ve been blessed…when you held your new born for the first time and each time you hold her…you hold her ever so gently. And, your heart skips a beat when someone asks to hold her while you finish up your chores…you wrap her up in the softest of sheets so her skin does not touch anything any less…you hold her so gently…warm in your arms…you run your fingers on her soft body as she gurgles…as you massage her soft skin with the most gentle of oils off the market shelf…that’s the memory that becomes a part of your soul...
And then you go through life with its many twists and turns…relationships, bitter - sweet, memories that make you cry…make you smile…and every time your life takes a turn, the question how precious am i?
If you value a crystal, a book that’s a classic or a painting that you created years ago with such care then how can you treat your love otherwise? If you’ve gone through life looking for that one soul that’s part of your being and the one person whose memory makes you smile at how she does the little things that she knows would make you happy…if all she wants is to be in your arms…is not looking for any tall promises…not looking for any big dreams…when all her world is right there in your arms…the moment you walk into her home her life…it’s almost as her world shrinks into that tiny little cottage…then how can you treat her otherwise? Why wouldn’t you hold her gently in your arms and want to protect her from the dust and the grime? Why wouldn’t you love her like she is the most precious thing on this earth to you? Would you ever in your worst moments be able to damage her being, be it physically or emotionally? Wouldn’t you do all in your power to preserve that spirit that makes yours soar? Wouldn’t you hold her and touch her ever so gently so her skin doesn’t get scathed? Wouldn’t you run your hands on her body with as much reverence as you feel when you’re standing in the rain getting cleansed and your soul released…as you see the tiny droplets of dew slipping off a new born leaf?
That’s the only way I know how precious I am to the one soul that I belong to…emotionally and physically…when I feel preserved and protected…when I am not scared of a scar that will keep haunting me for the rest of my life…that’s how precious I am…that’s how I know...the difference.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Rage is Creative
Rage…a word that so far I have associated with a hugely negative feeling…a feeling that I was, till a while back totally unfamiliar with…being someone who’s always chosen to walk the path of least resistance. Rage was always a feeling of unmanageable emotion that was so harsh and so unpleasant that I didn’t want to ever acknowledge it. But I do know I always carried it inside of me.
Rage against whatever I saw around me…rage against the people who decided they knew how to run my life better than I did…rage that ran so deep in my soul that it was perhaps somewhere digging in my own spirit, my own thoughts and feelings.
Today however I have come to a point where I realize that rage is one of the most precious and the most misunderstood emotions that I could ever feel…it’s important to be able to feel strongly about certain things in life…to be able to do something about them…and this too, is an extremely logical step by step process wherein we can actually utilize this rage and turn it into a creative process…
Rage is creative. However, before it can create, we have to learn to forego which we do, when we learn to acknowledge that which makes us so angry and let it go…then forgive those elements and people. Forgiveness itself is a cleansing experience…it releases energies that are softening…humbling and it is after forgiveness we find that the rage that was uptil then burning up our soul, is actually creative.
I believe that our masterpieces are created out of the darkest moments of our lives. And they thence turn the misery of those moments into bitter sweet yet treasured memories. The poetry and the painting or the music that erupts from the soul in such times, lends itself into renditions that are heart wrenching ….renditions that tear open our soul to create…for it is important to bare the soul to be able to create and these creations are priceless.
Rage, I have learnt is the one emotion that does not lie provided we have the courage to acknowledge it for what it is...
Rage against whatever I saw around me…rage against the people who decided they knew how to run my life better than I did…rage that ran so deep in my soul that it was perhaps somewhere digging in my own spirit, my own thoughts and feelings.
Today however I have come to a point where I realize that rage is one of the most precious and the most misunderstood emotions that I could ever feel…it’s important to be able to feel strongly about certain things in life…to be able to do something about them…and this too, is an extremely logical step by step process wherein we can actually utilize this rage and turn it into a creative process…
Rage is creative. However, before it can create, we have to learn to forego which we do, when we learn to acknowledge that which makes us so angry and let it go…then forgive those elements and people. Forgiveness itself is a cleansing experience…it releases energies that are softening…humbling and it is after forgiveness we find that the rage that was uptil then burning up our soul, is actually creative.
I believe that our masterpieces are created out of the darkest moments of our lives. And they thence turn the misery of those moments into bitter sweet yet treasured memories. The poetry and the painting or the music that erupts from the soul in such times, lends itself into renditions that are heart wrenching ….renditions that tear open our soul to create…for it is important to bare the soul to be able to create and these creations are priceless.
Rage, I have learnt is the one emotion that does not lie provided we have the courage to acknowledge it for what it is...
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