So So Common Place

Here I was, so glad I could string words together and actually make sense. Yup I could serve up a poem if the mood hit me right that may or may not rhyme...but it was an honest one. As in not thought up word by word to actually match or sound jingle like.
Then I got into this habit of checking out random blogs, common people's blogs as in not established writers...and whoa!!! everyone has a story to tell and we are all writers, this fact got so obvious that I felt I fell so short in literary department...I felt ashamed to have thoughts in my own mind and a little voice kept nagging, saying "so what? probably someone else would have a better take on it and even a more interesting argument".
Well now this rambling in the previous paragraph is what is making me write further, it is to simply quiet that nagging voice. Alright so I have a very commonplace attitude and since I may very well be the only person visiting here, since this blog is just my very own "Vent Room", I'm going to be my common place self and put down my commonplace ideas and in general this blog will be one mundane stomping grounds of my whims and fancies as they are.

Beauty

Silly, volatile, tangy love
Sunny, transparent candy floss days
Lemony dappled sunshine
Sweet honey warm sunsets
Spangled sprinkled sugar stars on velvety blue evening skies
Foamy, milky, frothy high tide waves
Tickling, balmy breeze so invigorating
Silvery, grainy very soft like clouds under my toes..the tender sand
The glorious perfume of briny ocean
Salty chipped diamond tear stains
Thats me right there on the seashore
Barefoot, engulfed and overwhelmed by the beauty that is life.

I learnt being nice wont kill me......

No yesterday wasn’t a bad day. In a new place, a new town riding the bus to get to an interview that was more unlikely to be positive than not. I was taking it in my stride though and I stood waiting for my ride tuned in to my iPOD.
A while later I saw him coming my way, he walked with gusto. Soon I saw him saying, more like miming something to me. I tried the usual I can’t hear youuuuuuu I got my ears full, but it was not to be as he kept at it and I can only be that much rude.
Soon, there I was telling him which buses go from there and what not. Then the most obvious conversation maker, time wrecker and small talk initiator question was asked by him "are you from India?" and I contemplated “No Nicaragua, Uruguay” (some country he might not know about so he couldn’t discuss it further)….anything but India. But out popped “Yes” which I couldn’t believe.
Oh yeah and this “HE” isn’t some tall, dark and gorgeous kind of he….not that if it was Adonis himself I would have reacted any other way, because when this girl is preoccupied she’s preoccupied. This was a man in his later sixties, of course from India, retired probably visiting his children here in the US and looking to make his time pass by hitting off a conversation with a DESI stranger. This happened to be yours truly today.
From there on I learnt he was a widower, retired and visiting his daughter (and the winner of the guessing game is…myself). I was making all the appropriate noises at all the appropriate moments and seriously I was beginning to feel sympathy for the old guy.
The bus soon arrived and we both boarded it and by this time I was being the studious listener and correct comment maker. I was telling my self what a great humanist I was for taking the time to be nice to this old man, who else but me would be this generous with their words and ears. He was telling me he was off to some Indian senior center and how he planned to give a presentation on spirituality and he read me his notes. By then I was so taken with my innate goodness that I actually heard the whole presentation and extended myself by making careful observations that I knew he would appreciate.
Now he had decided it was my turn to be the talker and he was asking me where I was headed and I told him where and for what (the interview). He had guidance ready for my this endeavor and he proceeded to tell me how I should present myself, extend my hand and smile even if it killed me. Then with a wink he added that having God on my side couldn’t hurt so I should think of Shiva in my mind and breathe through my right nostril 3 times and enter the interviewing room with my right foot. I was indulging him with my benevolent afore mentioned "smile even if it killed me"….smile.
He was wishing me luck in all the languages we had in common between us and asking me wasn’t I lucky that I had met him and now had this fail proof mantra for success. This was the exact moment I saw my stop pass right before my eyes and the bus climbed the bridge which means no stopping till it reaches the other side….hence the metaphorical point of no return. My only option was to stay on the bus till its last stop and then when it turned around after a 20 minute break get off on my stop.
My face must have shown it, my smile must have dropped and even when I was controlling it the near sob must have made itself apparent. Before me the old man had transformed too he looked seriously apologetic, like he blamed himself (which was pretty much true). I was more upset about my schedule being disrupted than the interview, for which I didn’t hold great expectations.
So there I was thinking "what the hey", in the least I had been an okay companion to a lonely older person and someday if I was lucky to reach that age and be well enough to get around I hope I meet someone like me on a lonely day too. I may not be a candidate for sainthood but man at least I tried to be a nice person (when I wanted to that is).

Moment

When is the exact moment we realize, we are not immortal

When is the exact moment it dawns on us that our loved ones can die

And leave us abandoned with nothing and no one to blame

When is the exact moment we feel the huge misery which cannot be contained in the whole world

At the same time we realize our own smallness in the universe

Helpless and waif like, weak and distraught

When is the exact moment when we overcome the life's greatest epiphany

that no matter how much you know or believe you cannot go on with the loss you endured

you still move on ...

The people you once held precious in heart become faded memories....life waits for nothing

When is the moment we succumb to the fact that even after reaching the peak we aimed for

there are still battles to be fought and wars to be won

When is that exact lightening moment that it finally becomes clear

Our best is not enough its not even close

And so it matters none

One or hundred, the effort, the total, the sum

When in that moment instead of breaking down and crying

We marvel at the challenges that are out there for us to conquer

We pick up the meagre pieces of our life and set sail, because new horizons are still to be found

Broken and undone, we might be then...

But still in that moment we choose to play the game.

Happy Songs

The happy songs that I want to sing
Where every line rhymes and joy for sure rings
Light as feather heart and soul
Moonbeams and nectar
Sunshine and puffy clouds
Dancing like crazy, laughing till it hurts
Holding hands with someone who matters
Giggling crazy till tears stream wild
Enjoying life like its going out of style
Happy songs at the back of mind
They seldom make it to my lips all the way
But they exist
Oh they surely do
To tide me through whatever it is
That makes my day gloomy and blue
Happy songs like star bright
Happy songs my heart's delight
Happy songs that feel surreal
Happy songs make life livable

Words

Words pour out, but they are all a jumble
Putting them together is like playing scrabble
Murderous intents and threatening calls
All put into words are just only that
Words on paper, word of mouth
Words have meanings that only we can define
Wars and peace a theory in words
Actions reduced to adjectives and verbs
Histories written written down to be studied and read
All in words, all devoid of pain
Words without feelings, clinically sterile
Words are nothing without your mind
Your sense and sensibilities add emotions to them
Words are only words they have no reason, they are lame
Words of love, words of hate
Words not weapons have won many a wars
How did words get so savvy
Its the one who says them with manner uncanny
Words just words would be like stones in a can
You rattle them together, only sound comes back
Words are more than words when hearts set to do so
Words are made meaningful when soul sets them free
Words are then birds flying high and wild
Words are messages then of freedom rites

Ghosts

What is a ghost, is it a cluster of feelings and needs
hopes and dreams left unfulfilled
the best and worst a raw jumble of meanings
That we tried to sort through all our lives but couldnt
The best we wanted people to see in us but they just wouldnt
So now we float through eternity transperant and unseen
Only acknowledged for spirits we are, nothing personal to it
Misunderstood and ignored
Unheard and seen through
never felt or touched
Ghosts of our past, ghosts of our deeds
Ghosts that live within us and tell us we matter to noone so we dont really exist
A bog so deep in the well of our being
Where fantasies meet crushing, brutal realities of life
Ghosts dwell there of our dreams, which all died an infant death
Ghosts of actions we regret to this day
Scary and ghoulish ghosts of our sins
Romantic and warm ghosts of that coveted first kiss
All those ghosts, all those memories, all within and in distant horizon beyond
Ghosts of enormous human heart that keeps beating even after the body is long gone.