Betrayal

Cloaked in the shadows, shrouded in darkness,

Behind the smoke's haze

An armour you think can protect you,

from my gaze.

You believe it sheathed,

Subdued in the cheer and sneer of these slaves.

But I can hear you breathe,

As distinct as in the silence of graves

Try as you might to mask it behind the sweat

And the smell of burning putrid flesh,

I can feel your scent permeating the air,
As crisp as the petrichor in desert air.

You think I do not catch, the silent tear that surfaces, 
On your blackened face, the line it traces.
Its the apathy in the sympathy in your eyes,
I look at transfixed; as my consciousness ebbs away,
Etched in my existence forever,
For I realise, I was the inconsequential play .
They drive a stake through my heart, 
Ending an ever extending agony, 
Finally; mercy on their part?

You think you can hide, 

watch me burn from the sides.

I see you. I see it all.

As I fall in ashes and rise in smoke

I will watch you burn, your living life,

I will watch you fall,

Though I will forgive you, 

The shame of it all. 

Will You Walk With Me?

And then just maybe, beyond the bend, I'll see you,
Just maybe I'll say Hello and you smile,
A smile as mesmerizing with my eyes open as closed.
Maybe we will talk,
As we walk,
Together , while we figure out where it is this leads.
We will tell our stories, our pains, our sorrows,
Braving the rain, merry at the sunshine, dreaming of the rainbow, 'morrow.
For a moment our fates entwine in the fabric of time,

Weaving a pattern both beautiful and sublime.

There it is the fork, where we part ways.
Your and mine: our no more stays.
And then if I ask - "Will you walk with me?"
Your's, mine, our's;  any; as long as you stay with me.
Forever and always
Will you walk with me?

When I Am All Alone

When I am all alone,
That is when it hurts the most,
That is when I allow myself to think of you.
When I am all alone.

When I am all alone,
That is when I spin dreams,
Dreams of you and me, 
Your fingers entwined in mine,
Sitting at a bench in the park,
Your head on my shoulders,
The gentle breeze blowing away strands of hair, slowly, quietly,
Almost hesitant to disturb the serenity of your face,
When I am all alone.

When I am all alone,
That is when I allow myself to think of your smile,
When my eyes would open with the rising sun,
With you in my arms and you would look up at me and smile.
That was my sunshine, that smile.
When I am all alone.

When I am all alone,
I remember our shared moments,
Our banter, Our fights, our makeups and our life,
Now I am in a limbo and they say I am alive.
I go through the motions, I breathe, I eat, I sleep,
I even talk and smile and they say I am alive..

When I am all alone,
That is when it hurts the most,
That is when I allow myself to think of you.
But then without you,
I am always alone... 

The Anonymous Phone Call

At 16, Christian was a grown up man. He had to do what he had to do.

At 16, Christian was gangly and excessively thin. Not uncommon in the Poland those days. There just wasn't enough food and he had to feed his three younger siblings. Christian cursed his parents for dying out on him and leaving him alone. He did not know how to survive this constant hunger, this disease, this constant bickering of his siblings. He did not know how to survive this war.

It was cold. Christian was shivering. He only wore a thin shirt and a trench coat. He had given his only sweater to his youngest sister to keep her warm. Lucja was the apple of his eye. She had in return tried to mend his trench coat as best as she could but it still had holes. And the brutal freezing cold air rushed in through those holes. He felt the cold seep down to his bones. He pulled his trench coat closer. The sole of his shoes was torn. He had fashioned himself a makeshift sole out of his coat's pocket. 

If only he had some money but working as an errand boy for whoever would want him did not earn him enough. Sometimes it did not earn him anything at all. christian was fighting his own war every day of feeding four stomachs at least once every day and he was loosing this war. He was tired. He did not want to soldier on. 

He cursed his fate. Oh why was he born in this cursed country in these cursed times!! Oh why was he born at all?

The only hope in Christian's life was Anne. She was his light. He had met Anne while delivering a sack of potatoes to Mrs. Stoppleman. He liked Mrs. Stoppleman. She was a kind lady and she would sometimes give him food even if he hadn't worked for her. He had tried to run multiple errands for Mrs. Stoppleman always secretly hoping to meet Anne, but he did not get to see her often.

Once while he was cleaning the yard, he heard Mrs. Stoppleman shout out for Anne to hide as someone knocked on the door. Christian was befuddled. Why would Anne need to hide from whoever it was unless...
Christian sank to the ground as the truth dawned on him. There was only one reason why someone would need to hide in Poland those days. Anne was a Jew. As the reality hit him, he was horrified. What was Mrs. Stoppleman doing hiding the Jews!! If any one in the gestapo ever got wind of it, they would kill all of them and their neighbours. Anyone who ever helped Mrs. Stoppleman would be killed. But how would the Gestapo come to know of this? Christian was afraid, but that moment he resolved that this secret would die with him. He loved Anne and he will do anything to protect her. This secret will go with him to his grave.

It started snowing. Christian realized he was late. It was time for him to go home. He did not manage to get any food or money today too. Lucja was ill and she needed medicine and food badly. But how could he buy it when he had no money? He went home which was a sheet of tarpaulin spread atop the broken walls of a bombed house. As he reached home, he saw there was no fire. He cursed Frank, his younger brother. The only task he had given Frank was to take care of Lucja. He kneeled over to check on Lucja and saw that she was shivering. He placed his hand over her forehead to check her temperature. She was burning up. Just as he turned her face towards himself, he saw blood on her face and her neck. His heart stopped. He did not know what to do.

The doctor over at the Gestapo base could help her. He was the only person in this godforsaken place who could. But he was a mean man. Christian carried Lucja on his back the entire way to the Gestapo base. Christian's coat was covered in blood. His sister had stopped coughing blood and was breathing raggedly. Her temperature was soaring. Oh what can he do? How will he save her? She was his responsibility now?
He would do anything to save her, if only he knew what it was that he should do.

The doctor was heavily drunk. He looked at the boy with the girl on his back. The girl was apparently spewing blood. He knew just from the looks of her that she had been ill for quiet a long time now and that he couldn't save her. Why not put the boy to some good use? He met the boy and agreed to save her sister on one condition.

At 16, Christian was a grown up man. He had to do what he had to do.

Christian picked up the receiver at the bakers shop near the Gestapo and made a phone call. He could not bear anyone knowing what he had just done. He then ran over to check his sister at the doctor's place. He stopped as he reached his door. Lucja, his dear Lucja, was lying at the door. What was the doctor doing? Why was she lying there out in the cold? Why was she not breathing? He knocked and knocked relentlessly at the door. There was no response. He kept knocking and after sometime he just stopped. He just sat there looking at his sister.

The dawn came and Christian got up from the doctor's door. He was blank. He couldn't feel anything. He got up, looked at his sister one last time and left her there. He came back to his home, lay down on his bed and tried to go to sleep.

Two days later, Christian sat near the Gestapo base, with a torn out piece of newspaper in his hands. The Gestapo had raided Mrs. Stoppleman's house and killed all the Jews hiding there. Anne was dead. The Gestapo was informed about the Jews' hideout  by an anonymous phone call. Christian sat there staring at the newspaper in his hands. The air was biting cold. Just then the doctor came out flanked by two soldiers.

Christian saw him. He felt the rage rise in him. He picked up a big stone and threw it at the doctor, shouting curses at him. The stone hit the doctor on his head. The soldier standing to the right of the doctor took a careful aim and shot the boy.

At 16, Christian was a grown up man. He had to do what he had to do. Lying there in his pool of blood, Christian wondered why was he born at all?


P.S. - The story is my first attempt at Historical fiction. The only truth in this story is the incidence of Anne Frank's death. The rest of it is just pure fiction.     
   

All in a day's work

He loved the way the sunlight lit her face.

Lying beside her on the bed he felt he was the luckiest man in the world. He adjusted himself and slowly removed his arm from under her head. It had gone numb but he did not mind it. He propped up on the pillow to face her directly and gently removed the curls of gorgeous red hair from her face. He smiled remembering the innumerable times he had heard her fuss about her wavy hair and each of those times he had told her they were perfect. She was perfect. She would always roll her eyes and purse her lips in exasperation and turn away from him but once, he thought he caught her smiling while turning away. Oh he loved her, he loved her so much and lying there beside her he almost choked on his own happiness.

He let his hands trace the contours of her face. She opened her eyes and smiled at him and he was born again.

She said to him - "Sir, your drink !!", in that lovely sweet baritone of hers...!!

Wait, something was not right. He looked into her eyes and then her smile and then into her eyes again - "Say that again".

"Sir, your drink !!", she said in that harsh baritone and suddenly he was in a bar at the counter and there was a man standing infront of him.

"Sir, your martini !!" said the man in that hateful repulsive baritone and he lost it. He wanted to throw the drink on the bartender's face. That damned man! and when he was having such a wonderful dream.

"That's not my drink.", he said through gritted teeth."I want it shaken not stirred !!". 

The bartender looked at him, sighed, shook his head a little, shrugged his shoulders and took the drink back. He looked at the bartender, who the f**k did he think he was? He turned away from the bar, seething. 

His eyes scanned the bar. He looked at his watch, it was time, she should have been here by now. He checked the day, it showed Wednesday today. He also checked the calendar stuck at the top of the wall behind the counter. It indeed was a Wednesday. Then why wasn't she here yet. For the past 3 months she was here every Wednesday and Sunday. He got worried, was she alright  Was she sick? She looked fine this Sunday. She looked in good spirits as she sat at her usual table with her friend. Her friend! He scanned the bar for her. She wasn't in the bar too. He knew they both lived together. Should he try calling her friend? He had her friend's number. After all he had acquired her number after much pain for this very reason. Her table was still empty. He looked at the door again. What should he do? He was really worried for her now. She had never missed a Wednesday!! He took out his phone and started searching for the friend's number. Damn! he didn't remember her name!! What was it? He searched for it frantically and dialed two wrong numbers.

"Can I have two Grey Goose martini, stirred, up, with a twist?", said the soft, silky voice at the other end of the counter and he melted. She was here finally!! He turned to look at her. She caught his eyes and smiled. He quickly averted her eyes and started looking fixedly at the wall behind the counter.

"Sir, your martini, shaken not stirred.", said the bartender with a hint of amusement as he placed the drink infront of him. He involuntary turned towards her and saw her laughing. F**k.Was she laughing at him? Did she think he was another James Bond wannabe. The cursed bartender. He wanted to punch the man so hard.

The bartender brought her drinks. She collected them and walked back to her table. That was it. He will go to her table today and end the misery he had been for the past three months. He would tell her that he is not a James Bond fan and that he truly, madly, deeply loved her. To the extent that he had spent 3 hrs every Wednesday and Sunday at this bar just to catch a glimpse of her. He will walk up to her table today and no he will not be stopped. Come what may.

"You should give up. You don't have a chance with her.", said the bartender. He stood there, with both hands on the counter, looking at her. The bartender then looked at him, sighed, shook his head a little, shrugged his shoulders and went to attend to other customers.

He was frustrated. Who was this man to judge him. He stood up. Straightened his jacket. Picked up his drink and started moving resolutely to the girl's table. He will tell her today. Come what may. She was giggling with her friend. He moved closer to her table. He wanted to turn back, but he kept moving forward. He will tell her. She was in an animated conversation with her friend. He reached the table just infront of her table. He will tell her that she is his life. As he reached her table, her friend leaned in towards her and they kissed. He stopped. Looked at them. They kissed again. He stood there, frozen and blank. She noticed him and asked annoyingly - "Yes?"

He looked at her again. What the hell just happened? He turned back and came back to the counter. He needed to breathe.

"Told you, you did not have a chance.", the bartender said nonchalantly as he cleaned the counter. He looked at the bartender, took his drink in his hand.

"F**k you!!" he shouted as he threw the drink on the bartender's face. Immediately, the bouncers wrestled him out of the bar. He kept shouting "F**k you" at them.

She looked at him. What was wrong with these people she thought. And then she got lost in her girlfriend again.

The bartender looked at him being wrestled away. He looked at her still kissing. Then he sighed, shook his head a little, shrugged his shoulders and got back to making drinks.

     

What Do You Do?

What do you do,
When the words are not enough?

When you can think the words but not the meaning.
When three words nor a thousand words can ever suffice,
To pierce this unending numb blanket of silence.
That is as much outside as it wraps and warps your inside.
Permeating deep within becoming as much a part of you as life.

Where do you start? 
How do you pierce this silence?
How do you undo what's done?
How do you go back the path you've covered,
When you are struggling to even stand.

Maybe the silence is there for a reason.
Maybe you hesitate for a reason.
The mind cannot fathom what the heart knows as true.
But really, What do you do?  

ToasMaster's Project 3 Speech - What's in a Face?

Here is my P3 ToastMaster's speech. It didn't really go as planned. For once I forgot my speech mid way and was forced to look at my notes. From there it was a road downhill. I made a lot of mistakes which I would have otherwise avoided and my voice modulation was not at all as I had practiced  Might be because of my lack of confidence due to my initial blunder.

Many thanks to my fellow ToastMasters especially my evaluator Suman, for their encouraging feedback and also for telling me my shortcomings. I am planning to give this speech again after incorporating their comments.

What's in a Face?

“Nice to put a face to a name.” It’s a phrase that we hear very frequently and which probably makes sense socially but think about it – professionally? I reckon in the work environment, this phrase is at least a decade past its expiry date. Good Afternoon fellow ToastMasters and guests.

All right so it might be mildly satisfying to find out how your colleague in the US looks like when all you know about him/her is through emails or phones. Nice, yes in the same way you get a clue right in a crossword. But essential? I would beg to differ. Let me tell you a few reasons why.

For a start, not meeting removes all manner of possible discrimination on the basis of age, gender, weight, looks or even the clothes. Operate mainly by phone or email rather than in person and you are more likely to be judged on the value of your work and not on the firmness of your handshake, the stiffness of your shirt and a 100 other visual nuances that help people form the much valued – “first impression”. Tell me who are you more likely to do business with – a shabbily dressed man with bright orange hair, green side burns and a perpetual drool on his face or an immaculately dressed fashionista? It would require a considerable effort on part of the former to convince you of his skills even if you somehow manage to get past that appearance.

Perhaps the most valuable contribution of remote working to the corporate world and to human kind in general is in reducing those awful meetings. Of course, we now have to endure more conference calls, but the sunny side is that everyone wants to get them over with as quickly as possible rather than the face to face meetings which drone on and on. You are no longer forced to take your clients or bosses for lunch and pretend to be friendly. It is way easier on the company’s resources and your mental faculties to just talk to them on phone. You can still be effective and create a personal link in a lot less time. And if they are a bit rude, opinionated you can choose to rise above – quite literally, well that is if they are not sitting in front of you. You can always choose to stand up and take the call. It gives you an extra bit of confidence over the other person.      

The benefits of working over emails cannot be overestimated. When you are involved in negotiations over fees, one side will often feel cornered. But not so over the email, where each party has considerable time to think over their replies and come up with all the supporting data to corroborate their arguments. There are far less chances of things getting ugly, trust me. And what about when your manager sends you an umpteenth email asking you to go over a 100 page report that you have already gone through and found no error. In person, it would take an extremely strong minded person to not snap back or at least show his frustration. But over the emails you can always say – “Sure, will have a look and get back to you.” You can still curse all you want but he doesn’t have to know.

This is not to say that face - to - face communication is not useful anymore. Of course when you are brainstorming perhaps or when you are just more comfortable expressing yourself in person. But if working remote means  improved cash flow for the organization, less time spent in travel and meetings and fewer interpersonal conflicts, then maybe the secret of success today is keeping as low a profile as possible or not putting a face to a name.

P.S. - Inspired by a post from Reader's Digest Oct'2012.

Project 2 Speech - ToastMasters

I managed to deliver my Project 2 speech for ToastMasters today. I have to thank my blog for writing this speech as three posts that I had published way back on this very blog were the foundations of this speech.

I am still not sure how I managed to garner good reviews for this as I had not been keeping well for the past two days before delivering this speech. I guess it helps if you read your speech for over 20 times and create a mental picture of all your gestures and expressions in your mind.

Anyways this time I got my fellow ToastMasters to record my speech and here is the video.

As always any reviews and comments are welcome.
Here is the speech in written - 

WHAT’S STOPPING YOU?

He was suffocating. The room was filled with pitch black darkness. He was desperate for fresh air. He moved to the only small hole in the door and put his mouth to it to suck in air, but it wasn't enough. It was as if the walls all around him were closing in on him. He clasped the door knob and tried to force the door open but to no avail. It was as if the entire vitality in the world was against him, forcing him back in the room and he was losing the fight and the will. He was suffocating, the key, he had to find the key. He panicked, he had searched for it before, he couldn't find it and now he was afraid, afraid of going away from the hole, afraid that he'd lose his only breath. No he would not leave it, he'll cling to it. Damn that elusive key.

Good Afternoon! Ladies and gentlemen.

 Dreams, we hear so much about them. How many of us sitting in this room are living their dreams or are at least working towards achieving them? How many of us haven’t felt the fear of that claustrophobic man but still refuse to find the key? Let me ask you a very simple question “What’s Stopping You?”  Take a moment to reflect on the question. Meanwhile, I will help you identify the three main doors behind which the answer hides. Again I cannot deem to answer this question for you, I can merely make a suggestion and leave you to ponder and discover the answer for yourself.

“What If?” isn’t this, the biggest dilemma we all face? This is the first door. What if you fail? What if you reach out your hand and all that comes in your grasp is thin air? A wise man, in this session itself once told me, that the ideal attitude for succeeding in life is 30% optimism and 70% pessimism. Yes, think before you act but don’t let the uncertainty of the result weigh down your determination. You can’t control how the chips fall into place so stop fretting and take the plunge. Sometimes it helps to not worry over the repercussions. This in no way means that if your dream is to bungee jump or sky dive, you don’t take the necessary precautions. Remember you are no Tom Cruise and this isn’t Mission Impossible.

It is often said that we live our lives not as we want them to be but as others perceive them to be. Yes friends, it is the mighty public opinion – the second door. There is a cartoon floating around on facebook these days. It depicts two rotund, overweight people, a male and a female, sitting atop a feeble donkey and enjoying what seems like a safari, when they come across a group of people who remark – “Oh! Two people on a donkey’s back!! What sadists.” The female gets down the donkey and they continue. Seeing them thus, another group remarks – “How cruel!! He is letting his wife walk!!”. Now the man gets down the donkey and offers the seat courteously to the woman. They had only gone a few meters when another group jests – “Look, he is letting his wife ride. Who is the boss!!”. Fed up both the man and the woman decide to walk beside the donkey, their safari now being entirely ruined when they hear – “Fools!! They have a donkey and they are walking”. Hearing this, the man starts pulling his hair out and the woman starts crying.

Well this satire on our society is absolutely true. No matter what you do, you cannot please everyone. So why even bother? There are always going to be people who criticize you for the sheer audacity you displayed by doing what you want, just because you had the guts and they didn’t. They still analyze and criticize Mahatma Gandhi for something he did when he was alive. He has been dead for over 60 years and they still won’t give up.

And now we come to the third door.  We are all pretty familiar with the following excuses – “I have responsibilities, kids, wife, parents” or “I am too old now” or “Is it worth the risks” and still better “I am comfortable here and good at it, so why change”. Well, I’ll only add – You are never too old to start living, unless you take the risk you will never know and nothing great is ever achieved without sacrifices.

This brings us back to point zero.  Answer this – What or rather Who is Stopping You? Who is it that has caged himself behind walls of inadequacy and worthless excuses?

If you have realized the answer, If you have found the key, then let yourself free of those shackles. Break your cage and set stride on your empyreal flight for sky is the limit.

fly afar o! little one,
rest not under the scorching sun..
till there is air in your wings, scale the sky..
fly..fly..fly...

  

ToastMasters's Speech - Project 1 (Introduction)

I gave my Project 1 speech for ToastMasters today. For people who do not know what ToastMaster is all about, they should definitely visit the link - http://www.toastmasters.org/ at least once. I am happy that I got to be a part of Toast Masters as every session is a unique learning experience for me. Not only do I get the privilege of talking to like minded people but also get to learn a lot from each and every one of them.

Talking about my P1 experience, it was really great. Even though I am not new to public speaking, having participated in a lot of debates/elocution contests in school, yet I still could feel my stomach churning right till the moment my name was called. As I walked to the podium, I could feel my legs shaking and had to take the support of the table placed infront of me just to maintain my calm. But as I started and went on I became more comfortable and began enjoying my speech. I knew, I got this.

For interested people here is my ToastMasters P1 speech. I know there is a lot of scope for improvement and although I have completed P1, I'd still welcome any and all reviews.

Project 1 (Introduction Speech)

“No Regrets, One life to live” is my motto for life. I believe in living in the moment and doing whatever I want to do at that moment. I am always on the lookout for learning something new. Good Afternoon Toast masters and friends.

I am Ankit Rastogi, from Meerut, U.P. I am an only engineer born into a family of doctors. I completed my B.E Computer Science from BITS Pilani. I am an amalgamation of values and experiences accumulated from living in a lot of cities all over India. Till now I have never stayed in a city for more than 4 years. Maybe that is why I have an inherent wanderlust, a thirst for adventure and a curiosity to know different cultures and people. It’s either that, or my dislike for cricket which makes me run from place to place. God has a wicked sense of humor. So he decides to make me an Indian, born into a family of cricket maniacs, in a place like Meerut where cricket is the way of life, blesses me with terrible – terrible hand eye coordination and just for the heck of it, decides that yours truly shall abhor cricket. Seriously!! Are you kidding me? You cannot imagine what I have to go through everyday. Well I have managed to live 24 years with it, I suppose I can manage another 24 hopefully.

One thing, however I am grateful to be blessed with is my love for reading. I vividly remember reading Pride and Prejudice, an innocent kid in 5^th standard and not understanding a word of it. It was sometime later and with some experience and lost innocence, I realized the reason for this. Jane Austen was a girl. Anyways, it created in me a passion for words and gave fuel to my imagination. I must admit that this child like passion still exists in me every time I pick up a new book. I suffer from self proclaimed Obsessive Compulsive Reading Disorder. Not only do I read feverishly but for the duration of the book, I live in that world. I can recall this one incidence when I was still reading the Harry Potter series where instead of applying my bicycle brakes before colliding head first with a car, I kept on repeating “Impedimenta”, “Impedimenta”. For Harry Potter illiterates, this is a spell to slow down a moving object. But this being damned reality, the bicycle didn’t slow down obviously and I still met with the accident.

I cannot complete my introduction without discussing about my passion for teaching. I started teaching underprivileged kids as a part of NGO called Nirmaan during my time at BITS Pilani, and it is this experience above all else that makes me who I am. I learnt more from those kids and from teaching them what little I could, than I have learnt from anything else till now. “Joi de Vivre” – I learnt the true meaning of this phrase from those kids. Even if they didn’t know where there next meal was coming from, they never gave up on smiling. My best accomplishment till now is teaching one of them how to write his name. I am currently working for Samarthanam an organization for disabled children.

To sum up, I am a reader, a poet, a thinker, a renegade, a philanthropist and in the future I want to add a social entrepreneur and an established writer to this list. I am enjoying being all that I am.

The past is past, the future is ..but the present..
And living in the moment is all I have..
So let me fill this moment,
With all the vibrant shades..
For the dots are mine, as are the colours
And as are the choices I make.

On this note, I’ll take my leave. Hopefully you know me a bit better.

 P.S. - Although this in essence is the speech I delivered, I made quite a few Impromptu changes and additions in the speech, just to engage my audience even more.

  

For Now

For now, let me catch my breath,
lend me an instant of rest.


For now,
Let me bask in the sun, absorb the warmth,
Let me feel the breeze, the soft rustle of leaves.
Listen to the sparrow sing as I lie on the grass.
A tingling sensation in my feet.


For now,
Let me watch the sunflowers dance with the breeze,
Fill my lungs with their smell, Ah.!! so sweet.
Let me fly with the seeds, on the wind, far and far and far.
Let me hum a silent song, a silent prayer
for this momentary peace.
Let me croon with the honey bees


For now

I wonder

Have you ever experienced that feeling of something coming to destroy you and you don't care. That feeling when you can't see the ground below but you are ready to take the plunge. That exhilaration that comes from self destruction. That overpowering emotion, that breathlessness, that crushing pain, that relief and that happiness. Have you ever been in love? I haven't and i wonder what its like? That feeling of complete surrender. I wonder what its like.

Until we meet again

I need to take a step back, to move on.
Trace a new path in this wilderness,
to find a new world.


I rest my hands on the knob, reluctant to open the door,
But as i reflect, I see you have left.
From where I stand, I can see you, smaller and smaller,
yet I am happy. You have chosen your path
and I need to do the same.


An untread road lies before me,
I need to take that first step.
This is the place where our paths met
and our fates separate.
Until we meet again..!!


PS: Just something from my diary. Read it today and found it relevant to
so many aspects of my life as it is now. 

I Can't Say I Love you

If I acknowledge it, it becomes real,

And the chasm between us widens.

Atleast now I can see you

Be sure you'll listen if I call you.

But if I acknowledge it, It frightens me that i'll lose you.

My self is shattered in pieces,

Can you wait till I can collect them all?

Can you wait till I find myself,

till I can fill the gap.

Can you wait for me to reach you ?

I know it is too much to ask,

Can you forgive me when I say

That even though I do

I can't say I love you.

NOW

Just opened my fortune cookie on FB and it read - " Now is the time to try something new ". Sometimes I wonder whether really there is a psychic sitting at the other end of FB, processing my requests and telling me exactly what I want to hear. This isn't the first time its happening to me..!! maybe i'm a freak but honestly, its too many times to be just credited as a coincidence. I'm sure FB has some type of psychic mechanism or algorithm.....I wonder how they developed this algo., if at all there is an algo.,..what heuristics did they apply??? Damn this.advance algorithms course..every time I think about the word algorithm..I seem to get lost......

Sorry my bad!! I wandered from the topic at hand again (now you can see why I don't blog often). Getting back to the fortune cookie irrelevant of the fact whether there is a psychic at the other end or its just my mind twisting every word to find something meaningful, the thing is that the cookie was right..so damn right...

'Now' - its such a small, yet such a powerful word. Now describes everything - our past, our future and more importantly, our present, for it is in 'Now' that we live. The past and the future are both defined by what we do now. Infact when I think about it (thanks to one of my friend's status messages) we all, each of us have lived in this eternity, without realising that our share of eternity is now. So yes, now is the right time to try something new, and this gives me hope that at any point in my life I will always have the option of trying something new- beacuse my life is Now .....

Well it was just a year ago, I wrote about the dove flying (post titled Adieu.) and now I, am the dove. Its time for me to move on. Am I excited..?? well kinda I am. I don't know what it is that I am moving on to, I mean, isn't it why thats exciting..? Right now my head is buzzing with a million things that I want to do , I wanna learn painting ( It's always been my dream) I wanna learn salsa..(big fan of salsa..) I wanna learn a music instrument..preferablly violin but even guitar would do. The point is..I can do a lot of things, not just fun or hobby, but anything and it's all thanks to Pilani. It is this place which has taught me what I want to do and what I don't. Am I sad to leave pilani..? no I am not. Its because of pilani I finally have the freedom in my life I always wanted. So i'm not sad to leave it, infact m looking forward to it. I will miss my friends though.. but then, hey...they are on a journey as well. And as I always say..."is choti si duniya me, is lambi si zindagi me..kabhi na kabhi to milna ho hi jaega..". So Adios Pilani...

I set afoot on an untread path,
With new hopes and dreams in my heart.
Where will it lead me? to happiness or sorrow..
But then that is to be found out 'morrow.
Today I just walk....
Today I just walk....