Brain-sick's Diary #2 >> If I were a Bird

It has been harsh these days. Weather has been behaving strangely. The sun is shy to come out, and has lost somewhere. Probably it has its own chores to sort out. I can see how the clouds have been troubling him. And there has been rain which was not anticipated, at least not at this time of year. Flowers in my garden, with feeble colors on their petals, are showing their miseries. I can do nothing other than watching them wither in cold. It pains to watch them die; flowers I had gardened with all my care.

Even the birds have migrated. Who is going to look after their homes now? I watch them fly together, flapping their wings slowly in distant sky, sometimes showing up, sometimes hiding behind clouds. Among the flock, I try to find the one, who is lonely. It may be because I want someone to resemble me. I look for my existence in them. The bad side of me, and a little good in me, I appraise each one minutely. In books, I read, living life with too much care and precautions is certainly not a good lifestyle. We should be carefree, and joyous. We should never look back in the long race we are running in. These are what books on ‘Art of Living’ say.

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Elicitation

अश्को के समंदर में,
बेपनाह प्यास से,
बेवफा प्यार में तेरी 
जल रहा हूँ मैं.

टूट के छितराए
अरमानो के टुकरों पर,
हर डग खून सींच रहा हु मैं.

कातिल तेरे खंजर की
चोट से बढ़कर ,
तेरी यादों की लौ में 
जल रहा हूँ मैं....


(C) Anshul Gautam

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Cinema: Luna! Mon Amour

Are you also an admirer of art in movies like I am? I am here talking about mainstream movies, not documentaries which despite of being powerful at its composition lie unreached from its audience, most of the times. I have no genre specified for movies. I prefer each one at times, depending on what mood permits. But yes, I have set a criterion, and I never watch a movie with IMDB rating less than 6.5.

Day before yesterday, I watched ‘La Teta y la Luna’. It’s a Spanish movie directed by Bigas Luna. Though, the story you might find too much provocative and explicit, but the tenderness that the director has weaved through his stitches in the story is out of this world. A child’s perspective to what adults will consider agitated thoughts of obscenity has been painted on the moving canvas with enormous care. It’s never the topic of adultery that makes a movie worth for adults only but the disgraceful indulgence into one’s fantasies that might disturb the norms we have set in our society. Can you imagine if one of such fantasy can appear intensely innocent, so pure to you ever?  I have come across it through this movie. I was just speechless till the end.
The start of the movie, which unpacks Mathilda May, the actress in the lead role out of a gift box, is center of attraction throughout the movie. The story revolves around her, and a cute little boy, Tete, whose molars are yet to come out. Tete is unhappy with his newly born brother, and considers him to be as ugly as a demon is. You will need to watch the movie at your own risk to know why that was so… :D

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The Photo frame

The frame allures,

Windowed bafflement oarlocks me

Sick shredded stitches bothers again

And bespeak our love alive.

Your eyes were my dearest

Chasteness! 

With astuteness of ocean

Chaplets of sparkles existed,

Adored with passion in your eyes.

My hand blockades before the frame

But how would my heart?

Your fingermarks perch there;

They are costliest, I dare not botch.

I only entice to your call;

The call you make through the frame.

And your eyes clout me

In your lonesome photo I have.

Out of my clutches,

Memories are mellowed on the photo frame.

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Conversation

My smiles you read

My eyes you don’t

Serenity in my calmness you find

Turbulence in my peace you don’t

My words you listen

Meanings in them you don’t.

In my words

Truthfulness lies

You hide truth’s identity

Drag them into disguise

You try to wake me up

Still in sleep I lie.

“It’s a pillow”, you say

Someone’s lap I see

With warmth of love

I rest my head

There roam few fingers

“It’s silk beneath”, you say.

“You are my friend”, I say

I help you in need

Pray for your good indeed

You succeed

You taunt me hard and leave

When my honesty you need

I see you back

“You are my friend”, you say.

Remember?

You said, “My time is mine”

But I give mine to you

I learn for me

And work for you

No name for me

All fame for you.

“Fall in love again”, you say

Even kinship I forbid

New wounds they give

Healed stiches untie

It’s pain I see

“No Blood”, you say.

If you can, set me free

From my memories

They kill me softly

I can’t revolt

And awake myself from them

You call memories your life

“It will cause my death”, I say

Please, let me know

When dawn comes

Fireball will burn me down

And my cursed entities

My uniqueness you call them

“Grounds for my frustration”, I say.

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Forget Me Not

"You are in my every wish. Your essence lies in every prayer that I make. In the ocean where I am drowning alone, tears with your names in them lie blended. The rising tides and falling health doesn’t disassemble my love, my love for you. You still pulsate in my veins with a rhythm that has always fascinated me. The deepness in your eyes still overpowers my visions and prevents me to face the reality; the reality, in which your fingers don’t fill spaces between mine; the reality, which you chose to gift me with. And in this reality too, mirrors reflect me as the one which I used to be years back. Only innocence I have lost, my child in me I have lost…Our child we have lost."

"I don’t blame you, I blame me. I blame the God who diverted our paths in a way that our journey became different. I blame the flowers that sucked our emotions from us. I blame that jealous breeze which couldn’t synchronize with the melody that our conversations used to bring. I blame that rainbow which shied from the vibgyor our smiles created together after we ended our quarrels. And I blame those every moment which envied me and fought with me, carried away you so far; so far that I am afraid to consider if we will ever meet again." 

"This day owns a snap of yours in me, in a corner of my heart which is invincible. My lifeline runs through those veins whose walls have impressions of that snap. The air I breathe circulates and preserves your belongings inside me. I continue to live for I have promised few memoirs that I will make things better; those things that weren’t at place earlier which made us part. I have to contemplate; I have to succeed those paths I wasn’t aware of earlier. Your lost possessiveness for me gives me strength, and I move on. I move on to be a man that you would have thought I must be. And I pray for your wellbeing, for your happy sun gleaming. This day is special for me, because you were meant to be a part of me…always!"




-An Imaginary Cloud's note that was dying to burst

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Eternal Beauty

I admire the beauty if it exists, which would depict an inheritance of my individuality, amidst my blanked out identity; a kind that belongs to me, an accomplice to my soul's anatomy.
Like the pearls shine, white and pure, still unnoticed, subdued in disdain, my beauty lies coated.
I wait, with pains stitched through patience; I don’t bleed like the pearls don’t sweat.
I wait; someday a soul mate will come to plow the sand dunes, to take away the pearls that lie on the way. Then I will be sculptured near someone’s heart, like the pearls will necklace around with love.

I admire the beauty if it exists, which would let me see even when there prevails the darkest dark.
Like the fireflies blink, some far and some near, a timid melody blinks my mind and says a beauty stand by me. I look; with thrills sailing in my veins, drums percussing on my chest, I search the truth in twilight.
I look through my open window, where fluorescence enters and fills emptiness in my eyes. And there I witness a beauty in disguise.

Why a beauty hides in disguise? Why not it pulsates and waves its original vibes? For if beauty is veritable, why doesn’t it finds its accomplice. Why it remains lost and hitches in hands of dust. The extent of hitches has furthered its boundary. My every lookup, every searching ends at obscured vicinity. I lie dormant with no trace for my pair.

Now I want to announce that beauty doesn’t exist. But my heart foolish throbs for it; few impressions of illusions lie forged on the walls. Like the pearls burn in heat under the weight of sand dunes, I glow in flames driven by hopes in my eyes. I want to end my hopes too. But still...
Still, when the heat around churns to near death, snoring thunder in sky reminds of beauty in rains.
And then evokes admirations for a soul mate, who will wash away the heat, and pick up the pearls. I will be sculptured too near someone’s heart, like the pearls will necklace around with love...
                                                                                       
                                                                                        ....And the search for eternal beauty continues

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SCATHE

In your stream of meanings, my being in them has changed. In fake hives where your verity lies, your words for me have changed.

Your bare hands I used to hold, tender and soft, in my bask cajoled. In young gloves of perfidy, yours hold on mine has changed.

For grooves in your hair brown, new fingers you have arranged. In shade of blue in your eyes, impressions of mine black have changed.

In all these time skips, trend on your lips, for my name has changed. Beats for me, the place for me in your heart has changed.

Honey! I am still the same; a harebrained, your lover insane. Every knock on my heart sees you, your existence unchanged.

My arms still lie open, to have you back in them. My lungs lie dormant with smoke, looking for your breathe to inhale, to grasp your love unchanged.

I care not where you have reached; I am still there where you left. I am waiting for you in my life deranged, caressing my angel, in your photo unchanged.

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Untitled Love

The wind had smell

A propitious flavor to inhale

When the sky wasn’t blue

Walked there an angel

Her wings were glowing too

A girl in pink

I was in love... I think!

Her golden earrings dance

Blew my mind, lost in trance

Coiffed were her hair brown

And her smoky eyes frown

Often showed dulcet blink

I was in love... I think!

She moved forth

My heart followed

Acting like a tween

People around stood still

Cut in yellow, carmine and green

Then came a symphony  sync

I was in love... I think!

A call, her phone said

Her feet tiptoed, lips moved

Bright red, on the white bed

I saw her finger; a jewel blazing

A kinship; a wedding ring glaring

Sank my heart tween

And even at its bursting brink

I was in love... I think!

Vanished the smell and its flavor

The sky turned back blue

No wings to do the favor

People moved, started the rite

Path trodden, in black & white

No tears! Just little eyes shrink

But I was in love... I think!

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