When we walked
We had a vision
In our youthful strides
We had the energy of a stallion
We can change the world
We also will
Ranting and chanting
We moved ahead
Slowly came the crossroads
Some went right and some went left
We shall meet again
We promised each other
Then again and again
Crossroads came
And people were divided
We made promises our parting gift
And moved ahead
The vision became hazy
The destination still far
In the tired strides
I still tried to conquer
Then suddenly I turned back
To find a companion to rest
I was alone and very alone
All of them were gone.
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Urges Untamed
Times are there when we feel this urge, or these urges. First of these urges are completely illegible. Our minds, however sharp and analytical it might be, fails pathetically in deciphering those urges. We just feel the need of something without any understanding, or even a hunch for the sake of it, what the need is. We fiddle with ideas, or with things in more desperate cases, considering extremes, toying with impossibilities. Clueless we remain on our course of action for we certainly are unaware of the need of the soul. Question arises, is it really the soul asking for it? Or, is it just a mere whim, a passing fancy? No answer satisfies us. We try to divert mind, get frustrated, vent our anger on someone or something, ranging from the ashtray to the girl friend via the pet cat, completely irrelevant with the cause of the frustration, We later do apologize but at that moment we don't care and moreover it is not the point of this blog. How do we end this span? Or better wonder how this thing, whether it is some urge unidentified or a whim or some fancy or even may be some hormonal or chemical dis-balance in our brain as some overtly scientific mind will put it, leaves us finally? Well, while some find shelter in addictions of various types, some prefer to seek refuge from the divinity and some just sleep.
I used plural all though this blog, and may face some questions on my authority to do so. But, it is one of those urges on me and I certainly do not care right at this moment but I of course shall welcome any comment of whatsoever type.
I used plural all though this blog, and may face some questions on my authority to do so. But, it is one of those urges on me and I certainly do not care right at this moment but I of course shall welcome any comment of whatsoever type.
About You
Have I ever tried to describe you? No I havent. For how can mere earthly words, put however glibly, describe something divine? You are no earthly common mortal human being like I. When the most virtuous angel was embodied in the prettiest flower from the garden of paradise, you came into existence. Not that I have tried not, to praise you but whenever I tried, sigh, you took yourself miles and miles above the reach of any earthly word. My meek efforts ended in failure always. The words are angry at me, I am angry at them, for they think I am making fun of them and I think they are making fun of me. I beg your forgiveness. I can not write about you. Just allow me to watch you because I drink life force with my eyes watching you, because I still can not believe such a beauty can actually exist, because i am crazy for you, because you rule my heart.
I tried my best words to tell you what you are and now that I have failed again, let me tell you something I manage, I LOVE YOU.
I tried my best words to tell you what you are and now that I have failed again, let me tell you something I manage, I LOVE YOU.
Full Circle
If life is a circle, like it is claimed, then why oh why we must work so much! I mean, see, from physics we know that, work is done only if the object has moved and thus if we come a full circle, although we are sweating and panting, we have done no work. I know the flaw in this argument but lets not skin a hair especially when physics is hardly my point of discussion here. Life has a full circle, we often claim and a higher percentage of those claims are proud ones. Do we realise, technically, after all the hard work, we have achieved a perfect zero? Time to wonder and ponder, eh?
The world will go on, when Faiz is gone exactly like it goes on when Faiz is here. Yes, Faiz will be replaced like everyone else. It is natural, logical and unavoidable because Faiz was a replacement for someone else too. In our characters, there is hardly any individuality, we rarely do something which none has done before.This process of replacement, the ultimate achievement of zero makes me wonder, after what am I running! Does it worth the chase at all? I dont know but I want, I seriously want to know.
The world will go on, when Faiz is gone exactly like it goes on when Faiz is here. Yes, Faiz will be replaced like everyone else. It is natural, logical and unavoidable because Faiz was a replacement for someone else too. In our characters, there is hardly any individuality, we rarely do something which none has done before.This process of replacement, the ultimate achievement of zero makes me wonder, after what am I running! Does it worth the chase at all? I dont know but I want, I seriously want to know.
Heading Nowhere
Not everyday and certainly not everyone receives a request from the follower to blog, especially, if he/she is someone as petty as I with writings as banal as mine. I accept I let my emotions scribble themselves in italki lately but receiving a request to write something was the least expected thing.
Writing doesnt come naturally to me or may be it does. I am not sure because I simply dont know what or who is a natural writer and what is natural writing. I just know how to let emotions vent themselves in an incoherent way. Well, thats what is being called my writings nowadays by some followers.
I tried hard, for example today, to write on demand. After thinking and pondering(well, brainstorming isnt a word I am comfortable using) about my possible subjects,( possible here doesnt mean the subjects I can write on, possible here means those subjects I can write on and still dont get laughed at) I reached a perfect void. In other words, my brain and my mind bluntly denied me any distant dream of writing and obliging my followers.
Then came the idea of translation, how about translating some of my old writings into English. Not that the idea was completely drab or ridiculous but well then, you have to consider my level of English as well, which often receives sympathy if not empathy. More often than not, I am stuck completely and grope for words, then give up, shrug and say, you know...well..I mean.... Thanks to the stars, most of the time destiny and the ill destined person who is trying to converse with me saves me the blushes by pretending that the listener has understood.
Why not become a plagiarist, some may ask! Only way to be original is to know how to hide your sources well, they argue. I, rather surprisingly, agree. But to become a plagiarist, you need to have some sources. hiding which you may sound original. This is the time when I regret most for using classes to sleep or watch pretty classmates of opposite sex, or even considering study as best sedative and books the best pillows.
All options gone, I am still clueless and completely lost. This is just an explanation to those followers why I cant oblige them today. Call it a bad day at work guys! You know and I know how great a writer I am but today just not in mood.
I thank all my followers and the occasional italki surfer who will read this mindless jugglery of words. Stay tuned..more garbage to follow in subsequent attempts.
Stay safe, have fun, be blessed you all.
Writing doesnt come naturally to me or may be it does. I am not sure because I simply dont know what or who is a natural writer and what is natural writing. I just know how to let emotions vent themselves in an incoherent way. Well, thats what is being called my writings nowadays by some followers.
I tried hard, for example today, to write on demand. After thinking and pondering(well, brainstorming isnt a word I am comfortable using) about my possible subjects,( possible here doesnt mean the subjects I can write on, possible here means those subjects I can write on and still dont get laughed at) I reached a perfect void. In other words, my brain and my mind bluntly denied me any distant dream of writing and obliging my followers.
Then came the idea of translation, how about translating some of my old writings into English. Not that the idea was completely drab or ridiculous but well then, you have to consider my level of English as well, which often receives sympathy if not empathy. More often than not, I am stuck completely and grope for words, then give up, shrug and say, you know...well..I mean.... Thanks to the stars, most of the time destiny and the ill destined person who is trying to converse with me saves me the blushes by pretending that the listener has understood.
Why not become a plagiarist, some may ask! Only way to be original is to know how to hide your sources well, they argue. I, rather surprisingly, agree. But to become a plagiarist, you need to have some sources. hiding which you may sound original. This is the time when I regret most for using classes to sleep or watch pretty classmates of opposite sex, or even considering study as best sedative and books the best pillows.
All options gone, I am still clueless and completely lost. This is just an explanation to those followers why I cant oblige them today. Call it a bad day at work guys! You know and I know how great a writer I am but today just not in mood.
I thank all my followers and the occasional italki surfer who will read this mindless jugglery of words. Stay tuned..more garbage to follow in subsequent attempts.
Stay safe, have fun, be blessed you all.
Determination
I was angry of you. So very angry. Will not meet you, will not greet you,determined I was, will not talk to you. I found a thick book on spirituality to console my heart, to divert my mind.
Then the ears are so obstinate, they listened to and for every faintest sound made. Is that you? The eyes never listen to me, they checked the time and murmured she is never so late. The hopes denied to die, she will be here any minute.
Then I heard you coming. Your rhythmic footsteps approaching. My determination is weakening. Your fragrance is reaching me from far. I gripped the book steadfastly. No, I must not talk to you.
You came, and the same old thing happened. I looked up, and when our eyes met, the book, like always, fell from my hand. I stood up again, to take you in my arms.
Then the ears are so obstinate, they listened to and for every faintest sound made. Is that you? The eyes never listen to me, they checked the time and murmured she is never so late. The hopes denied to die, she will be here any minute.
Then I heard you coming. Your rhythmic footsteps approaching. My determination is weakening. Your fragrance is reaching me from far. I gripped the book steadfastly. No, I must not talk to you.
You came, and the same old thing happened. I looked up, and when our eyes met, the book, like always, fell from my hand. I stood up again, to take you in my arms.
Determination
I was angry of you. So very angry. Will not meet you, will not greet you,determined I was, will not talk to you. I found a thick book on spirituality to console my heart, to divert my mind.
Then the ears are so obstinate, they listened to and for every faintest sound made. Is that you? The eyes never listen to me, they checked the time and murmured she is never so late. The hopes denied to die, she will be here any minute.
Then I heard you coming. Your rhythmic footsteps approaching. My determination is weakening. Your fragrance is reaching me from far. I gripped the book steadfastly. No, I must not talk to you.
You came, and the same old thing happened. I looked up, and when our eyes met, the book, like always, fell from my hand. I stood up again, to take you in my arms.
Then the ears are so obstinate, they listened to and for every faintest sound made. Is that you? The eyes never listen to me, they checked the time and murmured she is never so late. The hopes denied to die, she will be here any minute.
Then I heard you coming. Your rhythmic footsteps approaching. My determination is weakening. Your fragrance is reaching me from far. I gripped the book steadfastly. No, I must not talk to you.
You came, and the same old thing happened. I looked up, and when our eyes met, the book, like always, fell from my hand. I stood up again, to take you in my arms.
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