Babe

Pig in the City

Space. Timelessness.

Nonexistence of reliable sense.

The music doesn't calm me
clobbered in independence.

Words. Spoken.

Keen to hear them.

But I might pull my ears out.

if I had the option.

Talking. All the time

Maybe they should stay shut. 

Frightened, this might be
how the world is.

Fringe disadvantages

of leaving my own.

Into a new one,

looking for what everyone was.

Shifting universes

between midnights
and midmornings.

Yet, not moving a bit.

Trying to love and accept.

Spend the day cleaning

the trouble stains,

around the voices,

amidst the words,

spoken through familiar lips.

I wonder if this is happiness.

Then again, I never came looking.

Life is

Life is full of things that are clearer when farther.
So I found it best to stay away.
I wonder how I'll do that with life.
Not as if I don't like it, I just like it better when it's a lie.

B School is like an uncouth mix of excited social creatures(which I find myself becoming occasionally), completely unnecessary sleep deprivation and this urgent need to have fun in life because 'it's the last couple of years you can actually do that!'  

People trying to bring together some average American High School drama movie, a modern romantic comedy and the most inspiring business story they've ever heard.
It is ultimately a stinking tragedy, of course.

I fail to feel these people.
The closer I get the more repulsed I get.
I see more and more of everyone else in me. It makes me feel more and more meaningless. I guess that's what individuality is all about. Oh God, I don't want to be sounding like Derrida of them all, but I think I do sound somewhat like him. Differance. 
I couldn't get the accent. So I shall substitute with a different set of special characters. 
:(

Remembering Birthdays

This land is seething with vapours of anxiety. The world awaits me while home tosses and turns in bed. My steps change direction, finally finding my own. The pain seems to me a thing of the past, though I am now wise enough to understand it isn't a thing to be evaded in the end.

This river and this soil; these mad, wonderful people; this calm, green breeze; the loud, serene music and the whole, endless food.
The wide congested roads; the useful, unkempt roadsides; my mistakes and successes; the friends and mistresses and all the thugs and the heroes. Delhi, how do you do what you do? How are you all of this at once?

Innocence and its loss, the firsts and the lasts, the conception and consummation and the sane and the wildly curious. The medicines and the sages, the houses and the forests, the lanes and the highways. Aah, Delhi! You painful paradox.
So, I decide I belong perfectly to you.
You might even always mean home.

Flight

What if the bird
ever wished to walk.
Tread the roads that nature created
Not cutting across the invisible air,
For that to the bird is nothing at all.
What if it wished to walk
miles - all at once,
But a foot at a time.
Pacing endless expanse.

Captive

A relatively old poem that I am posting tonight simply because I wish to share a bit of myself with this blog today. And of course, the unlikely visitor too! 
Please read and comment if you're here. 
I appreciate criticism and honest ridicule as much as artificial appreciation.
________________________________________________________________________

A poet- captive,

sees the open sky.

Colours of day setting,

the night becoming.

It is evening- a captive too,

of the sun and the moon.

She hears another sing,

without him knowing.

He sings of freedom

Voice a hum, but words clear.

The poet realized-

her poem was free.

She touches the sound,

and hues that surround

fuse, mingle around

bring changes abound.

She senses the motion

But finds no inspiration.

"Perhaps, if I too were free-"

But you see...?

All birds on a wire.

I want to...

... do lots of things in life. Be awesome. Travel. Everything that everyone wants to do. Yes, I do. 

I am beginning to understand that it is perfectly acceptable to desire things that everyone desires. It is basic human tendency to say the least and is in no way shallow or reflective of a grave lack of originality or the inability to dream differently.

I am increasingly convinced of the fact that the real differentiator is the doing. Ideas, innovative thought, divergent thinking is all great. 
All of it, however, is nothing if not translated into a tangible reality by someone.  

After all those relentless, classic Rationalism v/s Empiricism debates in the English Literature classrooms, I think this post is my first step towards taking sides. Taking sides, yes. Finally choosing to be one side over the other. It is in a lot of ways, the toughest thing to do for someone like me. 

Someone like me? The typical non-allegiant, passive, critical-of-everything-appreciative-of-nearly-nothing, fearful-of-judgement, not-actively-passionate-about-much kind of person. You know what exactly the kind am talking about. And I think this realisation that the power of action often exceeds that of ideas makes me a little less of this despicable character that I just described.

I have thought about how such a personality came into being in the first place. Yes, I have tried hard to trace what possible excuses I can use to justify the inactive bum that I am. 

My thoughts have led me from Family to School to City to People to Country - ah, Country! I found an uncanny reflection of my own personality in my country's. India - the country perpetually accused of not having a spine when it came to International Relations, constantly rebuked for not being confident in the development of its internal policy and criticized amply for its erratic execution and administration. Wham! I hadn't felt more shamefully patriotic in the 21 years of my existence. 
(I lie, though. I had this realisation much earlier in life.)

However, I shall NOT make this post about the sedentary person I am tired of being. But I might speak about how we are very different from America in the various ways we function and that has a lot to do with what their state has come out top be and what ours is today. Fortunately for you (yes, non-existent reader you), that shall come in another post.

I saw something today that made me realise how much more I want to do - how much more I wish to walk, run, travel, feel, smell, hurt, smile, cry, laugh and tire. And once I am done, start something new altogether. 

And coming back to my primary point again here - experiencing things in the mind is something quite unique and desirable in its own right. But the splendour that real physical experience offers is second to none.