Beyond The Oblivion…

Beyond The Oblivion…

It’s been 48 hours since He Left Me, and I still believe someone is playing a big joke on me. I keep on looking around my back, sometimes round the corners, Expecting Cyrus to jump out of one of these corners and shout “BAKRA”. But hold on, Take a Grip, The tickets are already booked… Even the return tickets. And I think…

What is it that lies Beyond The Oblivion, What is Left when nothing is Left. These random thoughts flood my mind as I try not to think about not thinking. Sitting in front of this bright source of light, my fingers play on the keyboard. Its music to my ears, just as it was last night when I plucked at those 6 strings that I have been plucking at for almost a year now. I almost lost the nails I had so meticulously grown to sound like a pro. My fingers hurt but this heart hurts more.

The wait is harder than the moment. I should have already been home, but here I am, performing the last rites at my office. After all, appraisal is due, I have to complete my forms, some coding is still left, but so has he. This is the second time I am writing without a clear head. I have been hurt, I have been bruised I have been broken but never at the mind. But I will continue, I have to. For this is what it is all about. Write so as to get to know yourself.

Let me get back to thinking about not thinking, let me get back to staring at the matrix of code. Let me go back to wait, wait for another 3 days before I can leave…

And He Left Me...

And He Left Me...

I slept soundly and so did he… I was woken by a sharp, shrill ringing… Like needles piercing your ears… Only to be told, he would never wake up, ever again. And that shrill ring tone has been embedded in my memory like a dagger in my heart. I was numb, could not think, everything just went silent. And in that silence I could hear screams, heartrending screams but only I could hear them. They were my own. I did not even pick up the phone the next time Dad called me to ask if I was ok. Ok? If I was ok?? How could I Be??? No I was not ok. I am not ok. I cannot be.

But I could not do anything, nothing. The man who had nurtured me like his son, just like a Gardner lovingly looks after a sapling, was not there anymore, and all I could do was.. cry… I did not even have the chance to see him for the last time… It was so sudden that before I could bat an eyelid, my life as I knew it had changed, forever. I booked my tickets to fly back home as soon as I could, told my boss “I am out of office indefinitely, don ask me why for I cannot answer.” By the time I dressed to leave for home, another shrill ring of the cell shattered the wailing silence of my house. I was scared to pick it up this time. I did, it was Dad again. He told me to cancel my tickets, for even the mortal remains of the man I had loved more than me were there no more. Burnt in a wild consuming fire, all that was left was… ASH.

I still can’t come to terms with the truth of the situation, My Grand-Dad, who taught me how to live, is not alive anymore. The one who made me learn 5 of the 8 languages that I know won’t ever speak to me in any one of them. He who made me feel and not just understand poetry, won’t ever again read out a poem for me. I have lost not just a grand-father but my guide to life. I love you daddy, I love you a lot. And this small piece is a farewell to you… To let the world know, that it can never know, how much I loved you, How Much I Still Love You

Your Son…
Your Grand-Son

The Remains Of A Charred Dream

The Remains Of A Charred Dream…

Bangalore… A Dream,
A Dream which made me leave home once again to foray into the unknown, to pursue the truth, to seek the reality about myself, to grow stronger, to learn, to live… But all that remains is ASH… The Truth, be it your Heart, your Dreams, your Love, your Life, or Coal… All that is left after The Fire is… ASH (Yes, you will know once you read this. I wrote this line after I read what you had sent me ;-) ). The pain of seeing your dreams burn in that raging fire is worse than the smell of burning rubber, worse than the nausea caused by the charred remains of human flesh.

Come to think of it, and that’s exactly what happened to Bangalore… Ruffians hurtling projectiles at glass buildings, without taking the pain to calculate the angle of projection so as to be able to minimize the force required for maximum Range and Height (They should have studied physics instead of taking to politics), Hooligans burning tyres and busses, forcing employees to stop work and close down the big money churning machines like IBM… ensuring a loss of more than $40 Million in one day, an amount they would never come close to making even if they lived 100 times over. And all this for what?

Wait, Wait… I have the answer, or I believe I do, “The Remains Of A Charred Dream”. Yes that’s the reason, the unfulfilled dreams of one, burning up those of another, in the hope that all would be justified. The Desire to Rule, The Desire to Own, The Desire to be Known, The Desire to be Respected, The Desire to be Feared… ok, ok, one word for it all… Politics, what else could it have been, A Burning Desire and that’s what it is. A Desire for More, A Hunger for Power; All that is left is Silence, “The Silence of the Lambs”, everything will be Forgotten, everything will be Forgiven, or so believe the believers, but it is there, it will be there, Unforgotten, Unforgiving, Brewing, A Rage gathering strength, a Rage that will cleanse all the wrongdoings, How I wish for it to come soon. For the Fire, to burn and singe the sinners, for isn’t it true… The Remains of A Charred Dream will give birth to another…

How I Wish…

Random Thoughts

Sometimes I wonder… Is it all worth it? The Training Camps, The Bird Flu, The will be “Reservations” and then Maybe “Bangalore Burning” stuff… Is it even worth a mention? After all, they don’t matter do they? And then I think, What the Heck… Let it be. And so shall I continue Thus… Continue to take you all thru the marvelous ride of mesmerizing words, to weave a world where extant and extinct, veracity and allegory become one, or so I would like to believe. The words I conjure are not for you to see but for me to know that “I Can”, that “I Have Been” and “I Will Be”. It is more of a self realization of the things that have been and will be or maybe might have been had I let the normal course of things to take place and charter its route thru unknown territory, but then again, I had to intervene, with my limited knowledge, presuming I could make a difference, and difference I did make….

But wait, Hold on… Let me not indulge in these introspective thoughts. Let me show you how Bangalore Burnt and how Reservation is affecting the so called millions… and in some beautiful words “Let me get back to work. Let me Begin, and let me End… ”.