Is it the chill air around, am not sure. Am in one of those awful phases. Seems to have chilled me to the bone. Feel cold. Remain cold. Everything appears to be frozen. The embers seem to have died down, and left with a cold metallic chillness. Lifeless. This is one part, the other part simmering, and what erupts seem to flow unabated. And even as it flows turns cold. So it is like, layers of cold, resulting in a state of frozen suspension. I presume its just hibernation, and the spirit, deep inside is safe and ticking. Wouldn't like to be stifled by this heavy silence, that seems to have descended as a cloak, draping itself all over me. 

Yes, we re on our own, get this straight and get it right. No bonds be it bound by holy vows, or by blood, or by baring of souls are forever. Tighter the bonds, greater the pain, when it breaks. So you don't tighten your bonds? And ofcourse they choose to bind themselves tighter, and unbind too.

Had this strong urge to walk away into the distant horizon, and this blessed place leaves me with  no such option. Yearned for a silent rest in the peaceful precincts of a temple, to calm my struggling spirits, even if answers don't always emerge.

When you think you have grown, seen it all, turned mature, and you have almost or atleast most of the answers, there is a blow, that crumbles your resolute props, just like that. The inner strength or the erected barricades seem to fall apart meekly, unceremoniously. It is for real, when it hits you, the fact that, you are left with pieces of what you are, and you are to make something of the mess, yet again.

Do I know for sure or do I not...
Do I have it in me or have I not..
Is it as it seems to be or is it not..
Will I ever, ever know, guess not.

Slim threads, but strong as steel
Seems non existent but I do feel
the twang, when so lightly strung
Reverberates, until I go all numb.

Spaces huge or holes, I am not sure
Loom large and too deep to endure;
Left with echos that haunt and taunt,
My own make-beliefs, I dare not flaunt.

What is to be my stand, now on?
Is this how it was to be carried on?
Do I open up and confront head on?
Will it make things saner, hereon?
Guess not.

do i have a Multiple Personality Disorder or what?! Keep swinging like a yo-yo, sometimes tethering on the brinks of one, almost spilling over into the other! Geez! who am I? Why cant it be all in one mould, why do i need to switch souls or bodies or watever! Its weird. And even as i type, can sense a different mood surging in, something else taking over, more assertive, dominant mebe even wild! this part of me guess am tentative about letting it out, in the open, not sure of confronting what might follow, or how it would be taken. Ms.Jekyl n Hyde...its unnerving to say the least, disgusting at times, pretentious at times, and plain madness at times. Will it ever merge or am i to alienate one from the other, something which i did try to do, but 've successfully failed!! This happens to many?few?all the time?sometimes?they survive?flounder?mould?break?rise?fall?emerge?vanquish?grow?diminish?exist?vanish?

During a chat with a friend, was discussing how individuals differ in their motivation to perform. Realised and have been realising that I am not a strongly self-motivated person. Need constant stimuli, if i'm to move on! I'm not self wound. Need that spark to ignite, key to wind, or even a dagger over my head to wind up. Constantly seeking inspiration, the absence of which instils a bogged down sense of ennui, that seems to creep and extend its tendrils with alarming speed. Have to keep chopping them off and de-tangle before its too late. Being a true piscean, get submerged in deep waters, and have to come up for air and sunshine too!

Death does steal upon us,
the mortal race we are
cease to remember, we are.

At times it seems, it
treads slowly but surely
as it draws or creeps closer.

Can one stall it, or even
foresee, or slay its
fangs as it descends.

Eerie is not the word
the darnedest sensation
is wafting by.

as her voice choked with emotion and controlled angst and dread rolled down my phone, found myself close to tears. a friendship that has lasted more than a few decades; remember the day I saw her outside the school office with her dad, just as I was, waiting for admission in Class VI. The journey from there on has been a long one; we've meandered, lost ourselves, lost touch, and she has lost much more in her life, but yes the yearly calls, have followed quite a regular pattern, touchwood. And I had thought she'd somehow confronted the demons and has emerged, atleast to an extent. looks like they are there to haunt her, and from what i decipher they seem to stay on, never to let go...she sounded so bleak and unsure. wanted to just hold her hand and be there; the way i used to be when we were in our pinafores and braided plaits. it was much simpler then, and she had me, to pour out all her stories; friends use to tease us, or rather her for her non-stop prattle. said she hardly talks these days! it hurts to see her this way; hurts to realise that life for some is a one big joke. hurts to think why one soul cannot cleanse another's, of misery and pain. hurts to be far away from a friend who is hurting.

Maya Angelou's

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise

I rise

I rise.

liked it!

a walk through the ruins
broken pieces
shattered dreams
haunting silence
taunting remnants
history in heaps.

a little flower pot
black damp soil
fresh shoots of life
blooms and startles
make it right
or wrong
its clay in
your hands
mould or crumble it
water or wither
it will.

past holds
present sustains
future beckons
my spirit undulates.

`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;

pieces drearily moving along
automated most oft than not
we're all intrinsically caught
in this maddening tidal song.

we crawl or even glide
at times we get to soar
and then tend to ignore
the entreaties from inside.

move together, but are we
bound and fettered as one
it surely gets undone
this farce we don for free.

dismantle from the weird cog
think you found your liberty
the spokes are for infinity
youre better off in the bog.

a sweet strain from nowhere
wafts along n seems to implore
give in and hold back no more
do as you wish it sure is fair.