My life, my movie.

One early 1987 morning,
I came out of the most secure place,
And started witnessing this movie called life.
I was always the protagonist. My life, my movie.
Over the almost 270K hours of this short film,
I met, saw, heard, touched, smelt, countless beings and non-beings.
Each leaving a part of them with me,
And taking away a part of me.
Sometimes big, sometimes small.

Now that I gaze at the person I see in the mirror,
All I see is a lump of energy I have gathered.

Below all this is the real, true myself, I have never met.
Some who have met themselves say,
When you do, everything becomes you.
You become everything.
and there is just, onesness.

I have a feeling, I maybe on a bus,
Taking me to that final stop of mine.
How long will it take, I don't know.
Maybe when now is the only moment left.

Till then I keep looking out of the window,
Enjoying every moment of this ride,
One moment at a time.

Let's Make No Plans

Let's make no plans,
Let's just watch the world go by.

Sitting at the shore,
As we see the sea breath,
This gust of wind,
I wonder what message it brings?
That guitarist, what does he sing?

Who cares about all of this?
Life is beautiful when we are together.

You then ask,
"what do you want to do?"

And I say,
Let's make no plans.
Let's just watch the world go by.
And maybe one day,
dissolve in it's oneness.
Completely.

My Mobile Phone and it's Charger

I once had a mobile phone.
It looked like it was the coolest one.
But I know how I used it.

Constantly on it, doing something.
The only time I left it were,
when I was asleep or when,
it was being charged.
Sometimes not even then.

Then one day, the software crashed.
Nothing was backed up.
So all the data was lost.

Then one day I was given this phone.
I hadn't ever used it.
But thought I'd give it a go.

It turned out to be the best one!
Literally the best I ever had!
There was only one problem though.
Well, there is always a but.

I didn't have my own charger.

On borrowed chargers,
it was always running,
but on constant low battery,
and the fear of it turning off.

Then one day, I went shopping.
And randomly entered this shop.
There I found so many things!
I became curiously excited like a child!!!

I took my phone out to take a photo,
And what I see astonished me.

My phone's battery level had gone up!
Drastically.
That meant there is a charger in this shop!
But where is it?!?!
Let me ask the owner...

It.

I fell in love something,
I call it a feeling.
Or maybe a sensation?
A sensational feeling?
Who knows!
I just know when I feel it,
Or whenever I sense it,
The ignition is external,
But the feeling is internal.
Somewhere, deep, inside.
How I wish one day,
the ignition is internal.
And then who knows,
In the process,
I become it.

The Act Directed by You

You and I, we went to watch an act.
The one directed by you.

Never before had I seen, heard or read,
Something like that before.

If I called it a masterpiece,
I know I will be insulting your creation.

During the interval, when I was trying to be philosophical,
You slapped me so hard, and said just enjoy the moment.

That to many may seem like an assault,
But for me that was the best lesson.

The way it changed me is just incredible.
So much so that
In each character,
In each piece of the set,
In every musical note,
In every words the artists speak,
I now see, I now feel, nothing but you,
and you alone.
So much so, that it seems like an exclusive screening,
Till I realise, I have become a part of the play now.

You. Here. Now.

Who are you they ask me.
I can't say a word.
Just the thought of you,
make my eyes well-up.

I wonder what would happen,
if I tried to describe you?
First, I will have to search for,
words to do so.
But for that even a lifetime,
would not suffice.
Any words someone may try,
Oh they do nothing but a crime.

Then they ask me of our relation.
And I laugh! I laugh so loudly!
Because we are but one.
But also never together.

Although, this I know,
You are my everything.
Without you I am nothing.

The last bit is my favourite,
when they ask me,
where are you?
I say here. now.
Then they ask if they just missed you.
And I say again,
No, here. now.

Trying to get to you

So I took the bus no. 13,
arriving at the station,
so eager was I to meet you!

the departure board is filled,

with trains that could take me to you,

Some through here, some through there,

But in the end taking me to your stairs.

Usually it is you who comes to visit me.

We have such fun everytime!

If not anything else,

You leave a piece of yourself behind.

This is the first time I have had the courage,

To make this trip to you.

But which train should I take?

Help me! I am calling you!

Answer your phone!

I am on low battery. 

without a charger.

The Visit to Stay?

I feel like I want to travel.
Far beyond anyone has been.
To places so remote,
no one has ever seen.

How do I describe such a place in words?
Just trying to imagine it takes me to a different world.

A world beyond thoughts, beyond what we know.
Where everything is just, flow.

But that place is no where close,
I need a guide to show,
what path to take to reach there.

This one seems to be fair.

But he too has different packages and says,
"Will a teaser suffice, or you want to go for a visit?"

I say none.

Can't we just go and, stay?

You

Thoughts of you keep me up at night.
These monologues with you keep me upright.

Why do I write about our private sessions?
Perhaps hoping someone can help me reach you, my destination.

They ask me to describe your looks or location.
I wish I knew. All I know, I know is an illusion.

But I am sure I am not the only creature,
To have this two way conversation with only one speaker.

So I share a glimpse of our monologue,
Hoping someone can help me make this a dialogue.

Tell me at least your coordinates so I can add them to this navigation system.
I promise to follow the lady's instructions with the least possible resistance.

Your Language or Mine

Wherever I go I see your traces,
In crowded streets and empty spaces.
This reminds me of you, that reminds me of you.
They all just seem a part of you.

What are you trying to say, I wish to understand.
In that gust of wind or this rain in which I stand.
I know everything you send my way,
has a message from you. What are you trying to say?

I want to learn your language. Help me.
For you above all, I am always free.

So I wait for you whilst I sip this coffee.
Let's talk. In my language for a change. Maybe.

In the Lap of Mother Nature

Sometimes it's nice to stop,
Sit for a while, and just watch.

Or shut your eyes and,
sit in the lap of mother nature.
And listen to the free sound show,
She has prepared for you.

No one is more creative than her,
Each second of the show, different from the other.
Eyes closed, let your imagination run wild,
Perhaps with as open a mind as a little child.

Soon you'll be making your own movie,

Use the creative genes, she has passed on to you.
Your dream of being on the big screen, will finally come true.

What bigger canvas than, his wonderful creation of hers!

Endless colours, shades, resources,
Take as much, as many as you can.

Come my friend, have a seat,
It's time to make and watch 'the movie'.

The Hopeless Romantic

I know you're somewhere out there.
I can feel your presence in every second.

How do I get to you, if only I knew!

Yes there are so many possible routes I see.
But to choose which one, I don't have the energy.

You have been so kind to me always,
Just one tiny request if I could make to you,

I want to meet you Come and take me.
Or choose a route for me, to reach to you.

No luxuries in the world can make for,
The Euphoria of seeing you face to face.

In everything, of yours, I see a trace.
It's now time I think we embrace.

Just a glance, just for the minutest of second,
Of your radiant magnificent self,
Would be more liberating than Nirvana.

Yes I sound like a hopeless romantic,
Because I am. You made me one.

I Wish I Could Describe

As I walked in the club,
I could see everyone dance.
The way they were dancing.
They weren't in this world.

Was everyone on some drug?
Could I get some, somewhere?

But I didn't want to disturb,
these trance people on their turf.

Not able to find another spectator,
I continued spectating.

Slowly. I started feeling the music,
My feet started tapping. My head started shaking.

Before I knew, I was trance-like myself.
I can't describe that feeling.

No drugs. Not high on anything. Flying.
No worries. No inhibitions. No right. No wrong.

Any thought, made the feeling stronger.
The feeling of freedom? of flying?

I wish I could describe.

I don't know, I know, I don't know

In this dark moonless night,
I search for a shadow in this forest.
A shadow of what or whom, I don't know.
Something that perhaps gives me something?
What do I need, I wish I knew! Comfort? Direction? Understanding?
But when I get it, I know, I'll know.

Should I stay here and keep waiting, keep thinking?
Or should I keep exploring the forest in this search?

I feel that I am fixed to the ground,
By nails I didn't hammer in.
When and where did they come from, I don't know.
So I guess, for now, I am stuck.
Waiting, again for rustling of the leaves,
To show a sign that something is around...

Just another sound, besides these crickets working overtime.

The 'Difficult' Journey

Why settle for a little rest?
When you are made for the best!

Why look for fruits?
When you are made for the truth?

If only you knew your worth,
You wouldn't be playing in this dirt.

Don't be afraid of the burns,
This time it is your turn.
The more you will burn,
The brighter you will become inturn.
No one can take it away from you,
To endure "so much", is a privileged of only a chosen few.

It might sometimes feel,
like you are falling in a bottomless pit.
But what safer place to fall?
When you know there is nothing you will hit.

If you do hit 'rock bottom',
let's hope there is a spring.

Imagine how high will you go...

What do I do with it?

some conversations left unfinished,

times we somewhat relished

none are ever going to come back.

They won't ever be the same. ever.

I wonder if it is us that has changed?

Or has time created this distance?

Tracks that touched each other, 

then running parallel, now drifting apart.

It seems like you never look back,

or do you look when I turn away?

It feels strange to ask you this now,

You are stranger than a stranger somehow.

Yes, we will find more people around us,

But there was a part of me that you have taken,

And a part of you that you have left.

What do I do with it?