Hello, Goodbye!

I began writing blogs because they gave me a medium of expression. It was a very important part of my growing up. Now, however, I do not feel so close to it. It is sad, really! But it has been great...reading so many amazing talents, making friends, learning and evolving along the way.

Sharing music, and other stuff.. all of it has been very well! And now, neither do I have the time nor do I feel the urge to take out time to write. I am trying to do things differently this year- starting with closing this chapter.

2013 wasn't a very good year. Then again, that's nothing new! =)
Days are never the same. You win some, you lose some. Shit happens and you move on. What I am terribly missing these days is the series of heart-to-heart conversations with my best friend. I am not an ambitious writer. I'm not among those who wish to get their works published...for what its worth, I don't even like sharing my work anymore.

So that's it I guess. Ending the blog with its 97th post.

Lets hope 2014 brings some moments of clarity.

***

Nothing Left to Say | Staind

I am going to spend this year trying to find a path. I will paint my room red, and I will get another tattoo to mark the quest for a path. And I hope those of us who haven't been able to, will be able to. 

Lots of love. 

Shruti S.

-x-

The Would-Have-Beens

What would have happened if you had taken that one extra step when you stood at my door? Would things be better or would they have been the same? What would I be like? What would you feel about your then future, now present? Had you taken that one extra step, things would have fallen into shards, if not into shackles, as they have now! Excitement would not have kicked in as it does now, every time that we slip into each other's clothes. Every thing was just so perfect back then. It would have remained that way, had you taken that one extra step. And that would have ruined every thing that we have now. Yes, we have a lot of unsaid words and gaps between us. We do have a lot of thought-block when we interact. Our conversations run either into awkward silences or into steamy bed sharing moments. But who would have thought that two people like us will end up sharing something so imperfect and chaotic that even spelling out the word "order" would become impossible and out of reach. We cannot have stability. Neither do we aim for it.

Who came back the same from a war anyway?!



***

Now Playing: Black Flies | Ben Howard

This man and this night. Beautifully chaotic. And dark. Last year, this day I was in Goa, feeling rejuvenated. This year, hopefully the hills would do that. Soon. Very soon. Until next time, listen to music- it will never leave you alone. 

-x- 

The Chase

She often quoted Shakespeare for me, to me. After we would be done with the usual chores of the night, she would often whisper lines, which sounded so sweet that I couldn't resist kissing her, but I never really understood them. I did not possess the patience to take even a graphic novel, let alone a full fledged novel or a play to read! I was not that kind of a man. I still am not. But she read. She read a lot. And she listened to a lot of music. I worked. And I worked a lot. Sometimes I would find her on the couch, her reading glasses calmly sitting on her nose, a fat book in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other. Only rarely did that cup of tea was replaced by white wine or a vodka-martini. She had a lot of taste. Whatever objects our house had which gave it a little more meaning were from her. But she spent too much time reading. It was as if she was still looking for someone in me; someone who would be as good looking and as compassionate than some of her fictional heroes. But I was not. I am not. She never let it come between us though. Her book shelf and her music shelf were always her world. I respected that because she respected my world. Though I always felt incomplete in her eyes.

My world had what she called "obscenely materialistic" things. Beer. Work. Money. Little bit of sports. Sex. And some old whiskey. I did not have the time to catch up on the latest bands, or follow what my favorite movie actor was wearing to the premier. I didn't care. I don't care. The only reading I did was the newspaper every morning. That was pretty much I could handle. She always chuckled when I said that. Her laugh was beautiful. It gave her a halo. The thing we had in common was the love for cigarettes. That was perhaps the only thing I beat her at. She smoked ten a day. I smoked fifteen. She was always filled with amazing words. One day she told me how she was aware that I think a lot. That I dream a lot. That I should perhaps just let it loose. And let her in. I never knew any words. So I could never really tell her that she was always there. I know that all of us go through disappointments. You wake up one morning and you feel disappointed. But what really scared me was the thought that what if You were the disappointment! She always smiled at me. She always was kind to me. Even when she would be searching for a Mr. Darcy in me, she would always find a Jimmy Porter. She told me this, by the way. I still don't know these two men. I don't want to know. I don't want to be her disappointment. The only thing I could provide for her was perhaps a space- in my house, in my life, and in my thoughts.

"So then what happened?"

Then... one night she spoke softly, Perdition, catch my soul; but I do love thee. And when I love thee not, chaos is come again.
My eyes were not open. But I feared that chaos.

And when I woke up, she was still a part of my mind. She was still...just a part of my mind.

***

Slipped Into Your Skin | Patrick Watson 

Blame It on the Fallen Sky!

Just for the record, I never stopped loving you Thom Yorke. 

Radiohead, You shall remain my best friend for all out-of-season rainy days wherever I may be...and for other days, of course.

***

-x-

Just. Strangers.

Splash the water.
Its darker on the other side.
Lets remain strangers.
Its better that way.
Stay lost in the woods.
Lets soak the sun as rainbows.
Bring the loops together.
Fill the spaces with voices.
Its yellower on the this side.
Sit on the mud here.
Daydream with the stars.
Sing with me.
Lets remain strangers.
There are no lies that way.
Laugh with the birds.
Lets blush together with tulips.
Lets remain strangers.
Lets escape Paradise together.


***

Now Playing: Daydreamer | Adele

Riddance.

The love for that golden pen is far more problematic than the hate for the darkness inside myself.

Let's rest this case here. Let's not write anymore. Let's keep it simple and uncomplicated. Because there is a lot more to take care of right now.

Later.

Now Playing: Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun | Floyd

The Despicable.

Its a myth.
A corrosion
To the inner walls
Of Your very being.
Its a path.
Spiraling down to hearth
And never missing a chance
Of deluding You in the morbidness.
And then,
You realise...
There never was the storm.

It was always just the myth...
It was always...
The Silence. 


****
Now Playing: Bang Bang | Nancy Sinatra

In My Big Black Bag.

A thousand steps.
Many visions.
A very small mirror.
One guitar string.
Two hearts.
Thirteen careless whispers.
Four curtains.
Just one amazing day.
Many used tissues.
Some unused parts of brain.
Lifetime of scissors-claps.
Eight moments of hope.
Ninth moment of faith.
And then...

A very big watch
To hold time.
I shall keep all these things when I find a bag big enough to accommodate them. 



***
Now Playing: For All We Know | Bettie Serveert

pic courtesy: deviantArt

Madness.

It was never about
The cracks in the walls,
The drops in the pots,
The mist on the pane,
And the crevice in the curtain.

It was always about
The pain of the eyes,
The haze in the vision,
The brutality of the Zephyr,
And the depth in the madness.

***
Now Playing: Plane | Jason Mraz


picture courtesy: deviantArt