The Seven Ages

No you don’t know how it is to eat up your thoughts,

No you have no idea how it feels when you stop yourself from breaking out, it is not patience it is a disease. It is one of those scars that never heal. It makes you sweat it gives you sleepless nights.

Will I ever be able to put that across? I know I can do it so much better. I know I can give it a shot.

Then WHY?

Pseudo-intellect, belonging or standing outside the crowd… What is it?

You should know that, this is about you, what we are discussing is you, what we want to figure out is you, what we really want to do is you.

Why this huge shell? What are you hiding?

You know what?

I am done being different let me throw on a dirty T-shirt and walk in the rain.

I want to dig the soil. I want to sow seeds and turn them into trees.

I want to sit and watch them grow each day, every day.

I want to take out all those books and read. I want to wake up early and make tea for my family.

I want to spend time with my mother; I want to tell her that I love her. I want to hug my dad I want to tell him that he is doing a great job and that he is my hero.

I want to play video-games with my brothers, I want to sleep with them and talk till the world ends.

I want to meet my grandparents I want to love them and bring them back on earth from the heavens.

I want to be there for my friends I want to have closer friends.

Ahh! I have so much unfinished business to do.

I know my child but do you know what you need to know…

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,

and so will you, you are no superhuman you need to sit down and think. You need to know what is wrong and what is right, you are a gifted child and while making you it took me a while.

Go home make that garden.

Plan that unplanned trip, be there for your family.

Write a letter to your mother send a book to your father.

Talk to your brothers brings them into the picture.

They are the people who will actually stick to you until the very end.

Think of it now or perhaps it will be too late.

Look for what you have, don’t seek love in the world, love resides into you.

For now I am leaving but I will be back soon, you will have new worries you will have new stories. Just remember it is all about the choices that you will make.

Lost.

Yes I am just another lost person on the face of planet earth. 

The Difference? 
I know I am lost.

He:He

He saw himself standing at the crossroad again

Crossroads, they always keep him funny

When going home is no more a choice

When friendship is no more comforting

When things are necessarily not right 

Let’s make a drink for the Uptown boy

How come you always speak of scars and pains?

He is a pseudo, a drama maybe.

Who knows his biggest fear is pseudo itself?

From coffee, marijuana and the no battery sign

From talking and talking and talking

From broken hearts to broken bones

From adversaries to the unknown

From thirty seconds to eleven minutes

It’s not his story it’s really his own

Who says its devil? its maybe just evil

Falling down and digging graves

Only to find oneself at the mausoleum door

For those who died way too young

For those who left the loved ones

For those who were never born

For those who could never walk this earth

He ain’t no Saint Jimmy

For he lacks all the rage and the eyeliner

For he never walked across the road

For he never felt the cold.

Awkward-Silence

Sometimes they are just noises, sounds dangling in your ears, sounds that make no sense to you sounds that are so loud that you might just get a heartache out of them. It is strange how I am never part of these sounds how I am always at the receiving end sulking and waiting. Sometimes I see a rage in me a burning fire a rage that wants to cut across a passage right through these sirens and alarms and batteries and go to vacuum. Vacuum where I can hear myself sing where I can hear myself cry. Have you ever tried to derive sense out of the fracas, boom, wohoo, quack-quack, psh-psh-psh, mew, jug-jug? I think these sounds will be a mystery for me forever and always. They have this term called awkward silence I find it really hilarious. I mean what are they saying? Is it that the sounds have become so much a part of them that now they find silence awkward? I wonder what will be awkward in future full stops and commas? Sometimes I wish I was born mute or maybe what if the world was mute, NO SOUNDS. How sane that would have been? Alas! This world is not a movie and I ain’t no movie star. While writing this sitting in my class I was reminded of a few lines which I read in my school by Pablo Neruda from the poem keeping quite…

if we could do nothing for once,

perhaps a great silence would

interrupt this sadness,

this never understanding ourselves

and threatening ourselves with death,

perhaps the earth is teaching us

when everything seems to be dead

and then everything is alive.

Now I will count to twelve

and you keep quiet and I'll go.

How much hollow our lives are from the inside? How much are we hiding under the toe? How much of pain are we keeping below that beautiful speech?

Think about it

Now I will count to twelve

and you keep quiet and I'll go.