An humble tribute to the city with a heart
Lie in my arms tonight
Kiss me all your pain and I will suffer
When I writhe in agony, you will feel me alive
You will find our love
Unstoppable, Invincible - joie de vivre
Glorified violence and justified horror
Oh yes, that's their way!
Burnt roses scattered across your backyard
An absolute still rings in my ears
And at the backdrop, a maddening roar
They danced in the ugliness of the night
Rejoiced their " faith" , their heinous cult;
Those faithless bastards!
But I promise you, sweetheart
All I gave them was -blood
No acknowledgement
Not a drop of what they wanted the most - my tear!
Doe eyed dreams cried at my feet,
Violated, mutilated I waited for you
For you to come feel my pulse
And decalre in defiance that I was still untouched
And then we walked home.
(**This post is dedicated to all those who we fought against the horrible terror (Mumbai Bomb Blasts , 7/11/06), who brought the city back on its feet; everyone who is a part of that defiant fearless spirit that symbolizes Bombay.
As an afternote , I have just one question for those who caused such an event in the name of "terrorism to achieve (religious/ political/ national or other) goal" -
Do you rape someone and justify it bacuase you are in love with something/someone else?)
Friday, July 14, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Once in a while...
Today was the day of honey coloured sun, star-lit eyes and aimless walk. Fluttering Skirt and half open lips framing a ruby red smile. A little giddiness in the head for some unknown euphoria in heart. I didn't click the ruby red smile though. Just a pair of pale green eyes (they say nothing) are captured in my still camera.
A day of anklets and endless talk over two possibly most random topics - 1. orange juice and 2. the feeling of " almost in love"
Today was the day of honey coloured sun, star-lit eyes and aimless walk. Fluttering Skirt and half open lips framing a ruby red smile. A little giddiness in the head for some unknown euphoria in heart. I didn't click the ruby red smile though. Just a pair of pale green eyes (they say nothing) are captured in my still camera.
A day of anklets and endless talk over two possibly most random topics - 1. orange juice and 2. the feeling of " almost in love"
Monday, July 10, 2006
"Ironic" - Allanis Morissette
An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic ... don't you think?
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought ... it figures
Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought 'Well isn't this nice...'
And isn't it ironic ... don't you think?
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out
when You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up In your face
It's a traffic jam when you're already late
It's a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic... don't you think A little too ironic... and yeah I really do think...
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought ... it figures
Surprisingly, had not listened to this song till yesterday. Liked it in bits and parts. Especially, the grunge music style. Delicate notes splattered here and there. A good hear on one of those rainy sunday afternoons :)
An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic ... don't you think?
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought ... it figures
Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought 'Well isn't this nice...'
And isn't it ironic ... don't you think?
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out
when You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up In your face
It's a traffic jam when you're already late
It's a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic... don't you think A little too ironic... and yeah I really do think...
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought ... it figures
Surprisingly, had not listened to this song till yesterday. Liked it in bits and parts. Especially, the grunge music style. Delicate notes splattered here and there. A good hear on one of those rainy sunday afternoons :)
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Kill to heal
Why do I write when I bleed the most? Outlet of frustration, I suppose. But just how smart an idea it is to record everything that hurt you, humiliated you, caused you unbearable pain! Well, but here I am once again - lost and wounded. Rejected and repulsed. What I am searching, I do not know. What I find does not soothe me. Swirls of question tangled around my feet so I can barely walk. I want some softness but I beg no mercy. It's a violet world. Everything dripping violet. Do I feel?
I walked away. Did not turn and look back. Swore never to regret, never to go back. An uneasiness down my throat. A piercing sensation of thin ice slicing into my flesh. And then warm and fresh blood. Red or violet? Out in the open, in the sun. I am embarassed. Can not own upto it. How queer! I own my faults, my losses, my success; all but my hurt, my sadness, my own blood. So I start sucking it up. Silent and almost evil. Salty taste and madness within. I turn into a vampire; one that feeds on itself. Violet sickness, violet eyes, violet robe. Under a violet sky, violated us!
Why do I write when I bleed the most? Outlet of frustration, I suppose. But just how smart an idea it is to record everything that hurt you, humiliated you, caused you unbearable pain! Well, but here I am once again - lost and wounded. Rejected and repulsed. What I am searching, I do not know. What I find does not soothe me. Swirls of question tangled around my feet so I can barely walk. I want some softness but I beg no mercy. It's a violet world. Everything dripping violet. Do I feel?
I walked away. Did not turn and look back. Swore never to regret, never to go back. An uneasiness down my throat. A piercing sensation of thin ice slicing into my flesh. And then warm and fresh blood. Red or violet? Out in the open, in the sun. I am embarassed. Can not own upto it. How queer! I own my faults, my losses, my success; all but my hurt, my sadness, my own blood. So I start sucking it up. Silent and almost evil. Salty taste and madness within. I turn into a vampire; one that feeds on itself. Violet sickness, violet eyes, violet robe. Under a violet sky, violated us!
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