Companions

ECHOES - the teacher

MELODY - the mermaid

EPIPHANY - the temptress

Thinking on the move - the second chance

You stand at the signal, waiting for those aberrant junctions inside the panels to respond to a timer that sends a stream of electrons to interrupt the controller. Out in the material world, two dozen people look at you and half a dozen, evanescent opinions are born. It takes 25 feet and a couple of gazes to get you across. It takes less than 20 seconds but a lifetime of feint to paste a smile on your face that reflects a non - existent, hollow culture. Generalization might be a blunder in a world with over 7 billion people, but I'll take the chance. And amidst all the chaos walks a free soul - oblivious, obvious and calm. You look at her and wonder what's beneath her feet; why the cacophony of a steel world fails to draw her attention. Unperturbed, measured footsteps resound in vacuum, obfuscating your know-how of your fellow humans. A swift journey down the echelons of her mind shows a smooth walled tunnel. Concealed beneath, furious, scorching fluids squirm through the plumbing. Fiendishly intricate wiring inside seems to be the reason for an out-of-the-box sense of dressing she flaunts. Jumping out, the macro world greets you with a cold stare. What you see next is the very antithesis of your latest peek. Coarsely open, the ghost of a redneck approaches, emanating an air of a cruel neighborhood that is wont to challenging a person's survival. You can almost feel the desperation that led to his lowly act of thievery last night. Its probably a cheap drug that he won off his homies from the last bet, that rules his senses right now. And its probably the shoes of his last poorer-by-a-life victim that he wears. What does that mean to you? How has it changed your day? How will it change your life?A butterfly effect perhaps? Or was it just the melange speaking? Can it be possible that you just processed a set of unverified, probably wrong details that will not have a bearing on anyone within five hops of your social brigade?

Who knows,
Why care,
As long as the light lasts
Stand and stare.

Drink in,
Cast out
As long as you live,
You have your shout.

What I want to know is...

I happened to be thinking (yes, I possess the ability) how my life would have been different if I had chosen a career path that's not Electrical / Electronics engineering. It was then that I realized that I wanted to know about a lot of things. So I listed down all the things that I'd like to study. (I'm not adding "in the future" as it adds an element of cliche to it, and people, including me tend to add cliche to cliche by saying stuff like, its not gonna happen if it's not happening right away. So lets not worry about a time frame and for my sake assume, that I will indeed find the time)

1) Music - evolution and composition.
2) Computer Science - to win the war against coding.
3) Mathematics - always a troublesome area for me, but I like to get my hands dirty.
4) Literature - short stories / poetry.
5) Film making - Script writing, direction and cinematography.
6) Theology - just to find out why so many people are drawn to religion.
7) Philosophy - I'm capable of thinking about such stuff for hours together.

That is pretty much it. Electrical Engineering will always be with me. Its not the eternal love of my life, but I like it enough to always keep it in my sack.

Bunch o' my Brain - Knot

Uneasy lies my head,
I'm counting minutes.
Desires all lie dead,
I'm feeling careless.

Thinking on the move - the beginning

Beneath your calm facade is a gushing cascade. The delicate fibers of social etiquette try without success, to quell the screaming vulnerability you harbour. Why is it that you cant seem to resist peering into tinted windows, a mere five minutes after your tryst with a mirror? And why do you limit that look to a passing glance, when a good stare is in order? What keeps your shutter closed my dear, do you fear the sting of the wind? Or is it the dogs that snarl at every scent they cant place? Is multicasting as exciting to you as the overture in that song you adore? Is your need to shut out the world justified when you can surfeit your ears with music? Are you frequented by a vision of a softly lit room with tingling, warm carpets and tasteful trinkets? How many times have you felt like shouting and refrained? Is your style a result of a closed loop with every stranger you happen to be stimulated by? Where is that originality the world needs? Are you a sponge that soaks itself with the drifting moisture in the air? Has it dawned upon you yet that you're either a true source or a victimized sink? Living with questions is only as easy as faking an answer. A green apple stands out because it did not color itslef red influenced by the rest in the basket. Has slowing down ever been a priority? You need to be different or you need to be good; if you'd rather play safe, be both. Contrary to popular belief, freedom comes from within. Did that phrase sound good even if you did not understand every word? Have you had moments when making sense seemed unnecessary? Have you ever experienced the joy of that one face or voice that fills up a void? Have you ever felt that competition is more a waste of natural ability than an agent of skill enhancement? Think about it, anything can be important and everything can be trivial - but choice is a tricky friend we all need to handle and solicit help from, very carefully; sometimes having none is an option we'd like to have. Again, it's a question of perception, dictated by thought and taste.

So many questions, a few inferences and some tests of taste. Going on would be easy, but its a pain to satisfy the need for accurate representation of abstract visions. The same visions that I intend will spring up, if your eyes see what mine do.

Saffron Skies

I'll tell you all my stories,
Sad and clear.
Its time for purgation
Time to let go free
Trees,
swinging trees.
Take me away yonder,
With the floating breeze

Symphonies that play outside these walls
Un-trouble my weary eyes
Lay yourself down to sleep
Down on warm green grass
Cover your cold body with
Saffron Skies.

Kill these gray boundaries
Just wait and stare
In wonder, at the heaven
Stretches of joy,
Dont pinch me awake
The mist is yet to come.
Loath to take the long path
Back into the city.

Symphonies that play outside these walls
Un-trouble my weary eyes
Lay yourself down to sleep
Down on warm green grass
Cover your cold body with
Saffron Skies.

Pocket full of stones

Fell is the curse of the green leaf
That buys you and gets bought.
Count them slowly all you want
No slower it seems to run out.

You hopped all day and sang all night
And stole an afternoon nap.
The world looked smaller to your eyes,
When the evening had come by.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Somber, concise and diligent,
They cruised by, through them all.
Past all the mighty mountains,
That held you back afar.

Toil and trudge, that you will
But theres always more to climb.
You chose to burden the beaten path
So, heavy your footsteps fall.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Gilded skies lead you on,
And promise to take you there.
Where the sunshine filters soft and warm,
To tickle those dancing strings.

Off you go, down the road
Sweating, trudging, till you drop.
Brace yourself for you chose to share
Of all things, the dreamer's plight.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Ten days

Bang in the centre of my head
It stays all the time.
Drinking all these worldly treasures in.
Claws at my deepest fears and,
Stirs up a storm.

Wield your cunning powers
Another day
Let me go and let me
Have my day.

The wait for the horses lasted
Ten full days
Days of apprehension and a little pain.
But the story now plays inside
The warmth of this wood.

Wield your cunning powers
Another day
Let me go and let me
Have my day.

Chime time

A distant breeze, once carried to me
A priceless gift on its crystal wings,
The light grew weary all around
As dusk drifted into the winter sky.

Ever so lightly, it crept inside
The vision of a high priest in prayer
As somewhere afar on a river bank
He joins his palms to salute the sun.

The magic contained, in a mere chime,
Set me adrift in an ocean of mist
Where the devil inside the water did sound,
The rover's knell with the Inchcape bell.

It took me away to the tall, cold halls
Of an ancient Chapel in the streets of Rome
Where the walls quivered in obeisance
To the mighty clangor of a holy peal.

A ding, a dong, a chime and a clang
Myriad pictures in an instant sprang
And silenced the demons in my brain,
For a splendid second, if not for life.

Bunch o' my brain - What goes a O comes a O

The circle's coming at you my friend
To give you what you gave me.
Its coming around to show you
All the places I have been.

"Bunch o' my Brain - Sensible" - the centurion \m/

You're not mad, I'm not sane
Thinking is such a pain.
I'll yield and tell you if I must.
In nonsense we trust.

Also, this happens to be the 100th post on this cheap imitation of my pessimism, projected onto an optimistic plane of mind, by my alter ego. Drafted by the whirlwinds in my brain, my dialogue with myself and no one in particular, tends to range from poetic prose to prosaic poetry, encompasses the physical and questions the metaphysical, indulges few and bores many, enlightens no one but refracts me (reflection is pretty much impossible I've learned) plausibly well, if not accurately. I'd like to thank anyone who's been kind (and patient/crazy/patient(the other one)/mad/intellectually gifted/parenthetically tolerant/tangentially eccentric/admirably athletic/patient(see what i mean?)/critically critical/ killer rajan) enough to go through all or any of my musings. Here's hoping for a quick double century!

Hocus Pocus gilli gilli boom.

My bliss

With nimble fingers,
You cradled my dreams.
Held me captive,
With a heavenly gaze.
Fresh like the morning breeze,
You helped me off my knees.
When I'm tired of walking,
I long to see you again.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

I like the feel
Of your hands upon my head.
You'd carry me
If I asked you, in the night.
My hero, for ever long
My god, if there ever was.
When I'm tired and hungry,
I long to be with you.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

An outlet

Hmmm... I just got done with a meeting with a couple of professors. Nothing special - just a weekly routine, yeah; just my weekly dose of "I'm a dumb***k".

"AAAAAARGHHH~!%^%^&!!!" is all I'm afraid I'm allowed to put in here. A lot of censor worthy expressions with lots more of the weird-ass symbols, would fall short of doing justice to what i feel right now. Trust me! its not even funny, how much I feel like knocking myself out cold with a frying pan. I'd christen myself Einstein if I understood 5% of what these guys talk. Frikking over achievers, always standing round the corner sporting a "my day's as good as yours sucked!" smile. Oh! lord, I seek swift deliverance.

In retrospect, I always wanted to be the guy who could play the guitar AND understand Maxwell's equations. I can now, in fact play a bit of guitar and as for Maxwell - I appreciate his ability to smoke up and write fiendishly complicated stuff, but now he can lie back, count his blessings and while he's at it, get himself a fine unearthly tan from the infernal heat in hell. How the hell am I supposed to believe that I was created by the same God, who also created Guiseppe Caire? Its during times like these that I fail to acknowledge the existence of an entity worthy of being called God. I'd love to be a really clever person, and I'm even willing to work hard for it, but hell no! This is Graduate School son! you also need some of that "u have it or you dont" stuff (WHAT!! Lycra?). Have it or dont, I dont care - I've always believed that just hard work IS in fact enough. Hopefully it will stand me in good stead. But for now, I'm pretty much done prattling.

Ghosts of penitence

The Silent night speaks again,
Through the black holes in her eyes.
Questions and Answers
Are exchanged.

Mary Jane she reminisced,
Used to be her friend
Now the fumes of hope have all been
Put away.

She let go of all the strings
And walked into the sunset with the breeze
But she's seen all the time, wandering
Singing songs of pain.

He lies down on his countenance
Ashamed to see the eye.
The faces of his friends are still
Awake.

He sees the blood still dripping down
From the wounds he helped make.
The knife sticks from the backs of those
Betrayed.

The stares he felt were colder than the ice
He shriveled up and curled into a cave
But he's seen all the time, suffering
Singing songs of pain.

Tonight the ghosts of penitence are prowling
Tonight they stand for all to see
But they're here all the time, preaching
singing songs of pain.

No Excuses - Alice In Chains

I usually put up only the posts that I write, but this one is a gem. A really well written song, and the execution is up there with the greats. In all its simplicity, strength, completeness and melody - AIC, ladies and gentlemen.

It's alright
There comes a time
Got no patience
To search for peace of mind

Laying' low
Want to take it slow
No more hiding
Or disguising truths I've sold

Everyday
Something hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses that I know

It's okay
Had a bad day
Hands are bruised from
Breaking rocks all day

Drained and blue
I bleed for you
You think it's funny
Well you're drowning in it too

Everyday
Something hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses that I know

Yeah, it's fine
We'll walk down the line
Leave our rain
A cold trade for warm sunshine

You're my friend
I will defend
And if we change
Well I love you anyway

Everyday
Something hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses that I know