Thursday, April 30, 2009

Happily ever after..

The golden princess locked in a tower,
that schoolgirl dream of an idle hour.
That worthy steed, that gallant knight.
That gleaming sword, the righteous fight.


In the million stories that I weave.
I do believe, I do believe.


The fool's gold, that crumbling tower.
Those sweet delights, they end up sour.
That passing day, those lonely nights.
Those streaming tears, that endless fight.

And as through powdered glass I sieve.
I still believe, I still believe.

Those withered dreams, that haunted tower.
Those faded pictures in my bower.
That childish notion of wrong and right.
That blackness that consumes my nights.

Makes me wonder how I was so naive
I'll never believe, I'll never believe.

A dawning day, her sunlit tower.
She'll soon awake to find that now her
demons flee in the morning light.
She's ready now, unafraid to fight.

The time is past, she knows, to grieve.
She will believe, she will believe.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Its been a while..

First heard somebody in college sing an acoustic rendition of this song.. fell in love with it instantly.. never managed to get my hands on it though.. you see.. i dont download music.. not for some big moral issue.. but simply because im quite useless with the internet.. FINALLY downloaded it yesterday (thanks sid).. and been listening to it non stop.. makes sense to me.. wonder if it does to you?

It's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
and it's been a while
Since I first saw you
It's been a while
since i could stand on my own two feet again
and it's been a while since i could call you

But everything I can't remember
as fucked up as it may seem
the consequences that I've rendered
I've stretched myself beyond my means

It's been a while
since i could say that i wasn't addicted
and It's been a while
Since I could say I love myself as well
and It's been a while
Since I've gone and fucked things up just like i always do
It's been a while
But all that shit seems to disappear when i'm with you

But everything I can't remember
as fucked up as it may seem
the consequences that I've rendered
I've gone and fucked things up again

Why must i feel this way?
just make this go away
just one more peaceful day

Its been awhile
Since I could look at myself straight
and it's been awhile since i said i'm sorry
It's been awhile
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face
It's been awhile
But I can still remember just the way you taste

But everything I can't remember
as fucked up as it may seem
I know it's me i cannot blame this on my father
he did the best he could for me

It's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
and it's been a while
since i said i'm sorry

Friday, April 17, 2009

The muddlehead..

This is the translation of a Russian poem written by S. Marshak, a poem I read in school. Itremains one of my favorites. Its as funny as it was the first time I read it, even though I must've read it a hundred times. If you're from CBSE, you must've read it as well. I liked it so much I even made up a little tune to go along with it(ok.. I probably heard the tune soemwhere and didn't remember, and adopted it to this... anyway, it wasn't much of tune, it was more like "naaa na naa na nanana na naaa na naa na nanana")

I knew a man from Petushkee
As muddleheaded as could be.
He always got mixed up with clothes;
He wore his mittens on his toes,
Forgot his collar in his haste,
And tied his tie around his waist.

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

They told him as he went about:
“You’ve got u’r coat on inside out!”
And when they saw his hat, they said:
“You’ve put a saucepan on your head!”

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!
At lunch he scratched a piece of bread,
And spread some butter on his head.
He put his walking stick to bed,
And he stood in the rack instead.

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

He walked upto a tram one day
And climbed in very sprightly;
Conductor thought that he would pay,
Instead he said politely:
“Parding your beggon, Kister Monductor,
I’m off for a week’s vacation;
I stop you to beg your cramway tar
As soon as we reach the station.”
Conductor got a fright
And didn’t sleep that night.

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

He rushed into the first café:
“A railway ticket please, One way.”
And at the ticket office said:
“A slice of tea and a cup of bread.”

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!
He passed the man collecting the fares,
And entered a carriage awaiting repairs,
That stood on a siding, all by itself.
Half of his luggage, he put on a shelf,
The rest on the floor, his coat on his lap
And settled himself for a bit of a nap.
All at once he raised his head,
“I must have been asleep”- he said.
“Hey, what stop is this?” he cried
“Petushkee,” a voice replied.
Once again he closed his eyes
And dreamt he was in Paradise.
When he woke, he looked about,
Raised the window and leaned out.
“I’ve seen this place before, I believe,
Is it Kharkov or is it Kiev?
Tell me where I am,” he cried.
“In Petushkee”, a voice replied.
And so again he settled down
And dreamt the world was upside down
When he woke, he looked about,
Raised the window and looked out.
“I seem to know this station too,
Is it Nalchik or Baku?
Tell me what its called,” he cried.
“Petushkee’ a voice replied.
Up he jumped: “It’s a crime!
I’ve been riding all this time,
And here I am where I began!
That’s no way to treat a man!’
What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

A broadway dream..

My first attempt at a story.. well not first.. but certainly the first that anybody else will read..

She drew a long breath.
"I- "
He interrupted her hoarsely.
"Is there anyone now?"
"Yes," she said, "there is."
"You dont love him, do you?"
"Love him?" She laughed bitterly. "No; I dont love him."
"Then come back to me." he said.
She shook her head in silence. He sat down, his chin resting in his hands. She came to him, and ruffled his longish floppy hair.
"It wont work Angel" she said. "Honestly, I have no idea how it lasted as long as it did. Listen, when I first met you, I rather liked you. And I did fall in love eventually, as time went by. But you never did. I dont think you realize that. It was always about you. And it was always the 'Idea of being in love' as far as you were concerned."
"Was it love?" he mutterred, with an attempted half smile. "or was it the idea of being in love?"
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said sheepishly. "Just this Floyd song. Nevermind."
"You see now? You see why we weren't meant to be? You never loved me. You thought you did, but you didn't"
"I love you." he muttered. She either couldn't or chose not to hear him.
"You'll forget me. It was all just a dream, if not a lie. Not love, just the idea of it. It hurts, I know" she added. "But I've moved past it and I'm sure someday you'll be glad it ended too."
She stooped and gave him an awkward hug.
"I'll miss you" he said. "No, you won't." She replied softly, and was gone.
He sat on, motionless. Outside, the blackness turned to grey and the grey to white. He got up. He felt very stiff and cold.
"The idea of being in love" he muttered.
He went to the bookshelf and took up the photograph. He carried it to the window where he could see it better. A shaft of sunlight pierced the curtains and fell upon it.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Potato Chips are the Devil..

I've been slothing at home for the last four months.. feeding on a steady diet of rich home food and absolute trash.. im upto a pack a day.. pringles sour cream and onion that is.. and sadly.. though not unexpectedly.. am now fat..
i need to drop four kgs... which i know i will if i can get off my ass and go for a run everyday instead of once every year or so.. but im still stuffing my face.. and am the heaviest i've ever been.. my brand new mountain bike is dusty and rusty with deflated tyres.. and my running shoes have birds nesting in them..
somebody help..

..............................................................................................................

11 April 2009

P.S. : I.ve now successfully dropped 1 kg.. knew i could do it..

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Air..

Drink this rain-dark rum of air
column of breath, column of air.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Ready.. Set..Go!

This is to announce a new beginning.. to a better life.. a step up..

This is to celebrate freedom.. from who i was.. from what i'd become..

This is to bid goodbye.. to everything that dragged me down.. including my own self..

This is to cry out to the world.. im back.. ready or not..

I feel.. I breathe..
Vedder was right, the curse is broken..
and im still alive..