Thursday, 5 July 2018

202- Damien Rice. Damien George Rice.

And listen to this beauty....

Well I've been here before
I've sat on the floor
In a gray gray room
Where I stay in all day
I don't eat but I play
With this gray gray food
Desole, if someone is prayin'
Then I might break out
Desole, even if I scream,
I can't scream that loud
I'm all alone again
Crawling back home again
Just stuck by the phone again
Yeah, well I've been here before
Sat on a floor
In a gray gray mood
Where I stay up all night
And all that I write
Is a gray gray tune
So pray for me child, just for a while
And I might break out
Pray for me child, even a smile
Would do for now
So I'm all alone again
Crawling back home again
Just stuck by the phone again
Have I still got you to be my open door?
Have I still got you to be my sandy shore?
Have I still got you to cross my bridge in this storm?
Have I still got you to keep me warm?
'Cause if I squeeze my grape
And I drink my wine
'Cause if I squeeze my grape
And I drink my wine
Oh cause nothing is lost
This is frozen in frost
And it's opening time
And there's no one in line
But I've still got me to be your open door
I've still got me to be your sandy shore
I've still got me to cross your bridge in this storm
And I've still got me to keep you warm

Warmer than warm yeah
Warmer than warm yeah
Warmer than warm yeah
Warmer than warm yeah...

Wednesday, 4 July 2018

201 - June 8th...

2.15 AM.

They said it was all over.

My uncle passed away this Feb. I wrote a post about it in the past.

On 8th of June, 2018- my father-in-law crossed over.

The past month has been a whir of things natural and unnatural.

Death is so strange. It suddenly gives hope to the living- about the iota of life left in them. 

Tuesday, 3 July 2018

200 - Walter Reed

I just died the little death.. :-) Michael Penn.

[Verse #1]
I count the cases piled up high
For the 1:15
For platform and for passerby
It's the same routine

I'm ranting while I'm raving
There's nothing here worth saving

Tell me now, what more do you need?
Take me to Walter Reed tonight
Baby I've lost the will for fighting
Over everything
Well there's a few things I gotta say
And make no mistake, I'm mad...
'Cause every good thing I've had
Abandoned me

[Verse #2]
All I want to do is hide
It's graduation day
And everything I learned inside
Didn't seem to pay
I've had my fill of palm trees
And lighting up Grauman's Chinese

Verse #3]
I'm the walking wounded
And I'd say it to your face
But I can't find my place


A sad and lonesome me
A sad and lonesome me
A sad and lonesome me

Tuesday, 5 June 2018

199 - The sun stroke

The first definition of sun that I vividly remember when I was 5 years old was that the sun was a great ball of fire.

As I grew up, I read a lot of things about the sun- from science to geography to religion to philosophy. All of it had utmost importance for this great ball of fire.

And every passing summer, I saw how many people suffered from that heat. Some of them died. And some of them looked forward to mangoes- aah, the gift of summer. Some of them like me looked forward to the pickles.

We need sun for everything. We even treat him as our own god. Across many civilizations. And rightfully so.

And yet. Despite our needs for him we will continue to see the heat he can evoke. We will continue to see the anger in that great ball of fire. We shall continue to curse him on a daily basis.

And yet. He still comes back every morning. Rises up with all the glory and shine.

One day... One night... That night will never end. 

198 - The leftovers...

The final cut was just performed to open up a host of untold stories. Lying on a steel table in a pool of nothingness the mind did wonderful tricks.

Oh, wait a minute- he just remembered the words he heard last from a person wearing a white coat saying he was dead. So this was what death was like! He then understood that something still worked despite the finality with which death happened in life. Whoever anyway knew about what happened after death...

The 2 docs who were now attending to him to figure out what went wrong on his body- oh, root cause of his death were talking amongst themselves. This is of course just a job. Otherwise, how would a person, leave alone 2 people having a conversation would be thinking or talking about the Christmas vacation this year? Gods must be crazy.

Suddenly there was a gasp from one of them which drew the attention of the other. Well, this must really be something that was out of the blue. Else, in this side of the universe called the morgue, there were very few things that would elicit a doctor's shock during an autopsy.

The doc was short of scratching his head. He checked the papers he received again. Almost nervously. He re-checked the gender. It most definitely was male. He looked enquiringly at the other doc who was now looking at an unbeating heart.

There were two very interesting observations that went into the papers, they were furiously writing on, with a very scrawny drawl with a black pen. Exactly like doctors would or may do.

It was written-

1. A broken heart that seemed to die quarter century ago. The heart ache was very visible. A strange phenomenon to happen.
2. Male with a broken and dysfunctional vagina.

The docs were very puzzled. How did the female become male?

The last laugh of course was His. The poor suckers in whites perhaps wont ever get the joke. The soul still lived to tell the story some day. For matters of soul, gender is irrelevant, of course!

Thursday, 10 May 2018

197 - Freak streak continues

You know the feeling when you know you are a freak?
And you know the feeling when you know you are now further a freak????

Like yesterday is one day I'd hope to never live again to see.
2 full hours of my memory blanked out. Gone. Black hole.

I have no clue what I did. I could have done anything and everything.

So... I lost my scooter. The first sign of missing memory.
Then I raked my head and walked through the streets in the night to figure where I'd have parked it. Or lost it.

I came home very disappointed. I didnt sleep a wink through the night. More than the scooter, what bothered me was my failing memory. It can get to you, trust me.

I got up in the morning and started my walk again. I was speaking to my parents in the morning as I was walking and suddenly, I remembered where I parked my scooter. Very unlikely place, but I then suddenly knew what I did last summer. :-)

Shades of freakiness sometimes freaks me out. Maybe, these are the signs.

Saturday, 5 May 2018

196 - Silent poetry.

Somethings are best left unsaid. It is far more poetic. It is far more beautiful.

As I was trying to interpret the pattern of the tea leaves to read my future, I noticed some form very strange. It looked like a cluster of shapes. So confusing that I almost wanted to give up reading them.

I hate giving up. My ego doesnt allow it- unless it is the matters of the soul. So, I went about demystifying it for me one by one.

1. The crack that was the most glaring of all was the first thing I noticed. It denoted the flawed me. Fundamentally flawed being which cut across all through my life. A sin I must have committed in the past- maybe past life or early on in my life. I shall carry that crack till my grave and beyond.

2. I found little disjoint leaves. All scattered. Of course that has to be my relationships. None that continued. These were my deepest fears. Of intimacy. Of trust.

3. I tried reading this huge knot by the side of the cup. That know looked impossible to untie. It looked exactly like the problem I cant solve for the rest of my life. It denoted my helplessness.

4. There were 3 things that looked like comets' tail. Right next to the huge crack. I was staring at it for a few minutes to understand what that was telling me. Unfortunately the crack didnt allow it to last for a long time. It just swallowed it.

That was the cosmic joke. :-) My happiness also doesnt last. The crack wont allow it.

Now then, I asked the Universe again.

Somethings are best left unsaid?
 It is far more poetic. It is far more beautiful.