Brain-sick's Diary >> In my year fourth…

Few hours from now, and our entire vacant hostel will get swigged in shouts and murmurs. People will be back. In this one month of training period, which constitutes an integral part of curriculum of WBUT for our seventh semester, I was in heavens sky. I love silence, and there it was in abundance here at our hostel. For no one was here at hostel, I had tight sleeps through nights. I read some of the best short stories by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore. His short stories steered my thoughts on the road that I never cared for before. And in the folds of silence at the grounds, I had enormous space to let my thoughts plunder every corner of my imaginative world. Sitting by the window, and letting juices in my brain convulse to build a different world, were frequent each day. I even witnessed love, the one in its purest form. The feeling that I used to admire once, I could only wish for, now I had it experienced. That feeling is of ‘being loved’. To love someone is not something which brows up my attention, but its ‘being loved’ truly is what that hooks me. God! Bless me…

I am in my fourth year of B-Tech course. One year from now, and I will be a pass-out. Time flies; who knows this better than them who studied in engineering colleges. I recall that existence of energy in me and that zeal when I was in first year. I had several friend circles, lots of well-wishers (at least I supposed them to be) and dreams to accomplish. Everything has changed now. Or I should say they have got refined. With the changing and moving time, life adds various filters through which you sieve out many people. I was no exception.

Challenges on my way, and few trusted supports I have. I wish to keep up with the expectations that my family has from me. But I don’t know really what I would be writing here one year later from now.

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Chronicles of a Mermaid

Down the waves of Mediterranean

From the blissful eden land underneath

Went forth a mermaid

Above the trauma of the surface.

Taking hold of my hand

Salvaging me from the swirl of ogre

She led my mislaid consciousness 

Into her arms of trustiness.

In the blushed state borne in my smile

I prompted a question

Are you the one, the princess Silken?

In the strobe of divine light she egressed

She carried me somewhere

Out of blindness I wasn’t aware.

Who is she?

Is she the one my voyage was meant for?
...

My lips folded, and eyes partially lit

Tried to whoop the acquaintance 

My senses recollected bit by bit

But not before she stooped

And caressed her nose with mine.

The heiress of those sweetest smiles,

Yes! The lonely fairy she was;

The Princess of the sea!

The sea which inhabits all variants of life

So does she patronize my life sedately.
...

In thorns of seclusion, in deprivation from love,

My heart promised me of your existence

I never paused for a moment 

Being affected in perils of aloofness.

I have sailed through the Pacific

The bedlam of dilapidated emotions

Just to meet you; to be with you hereafter…

Sealed in her kiss

She blew life into me, heal to my injuries

And the storm calmed into bliss.

Entwined in embrace of love

Together we departed for the Promised Land.


Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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An Odd Invention

Like the way OS drives hardware,

My tender heart drives my actions.

My CPU seldom pauses its function,

Clutched in multiple processes

And deadly thread synchronization.

Endured against suffocation,

Withstanding brute deadlock condition;

I envy that giant-tiny mastermind,

Fabricated into a chip

Named after Intel’s perfection.

My limbs and glands,

Constitute my local connection.

Through narrow bandwidth in my nerves

Runs protocol for communication.

In meshes, in rings, in stars or on buses,

With niggling breaks and data congestion

My dreams sail in intense versions.

Full of exclamations and interjections,

My vision surpasses

Chris Nolan’s ‘Inception’.

Procuring the imagination

Of an unmatched conviction.

With new thoughts’ propulsion

At my solitary mansion,

I head towards tranquility

Drawing my steps towards the invention.

An invention that can help you find

Eternal love for your life 

Exempted of distrust and disgust.

Aided with honesty, and upheld warmly.

And that would be my ultimate innovation;

My blow of life,

Into lives of millions & millions.

Images Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Enviousness

I envy him…

The stealer who sneaked into my vase,

Furtively he lavished my flowers with glam.

With strokes of his magic wand;

Vanished my flowers; their essence scrammed.

I still care and preserve,

The leftover aroma in the emptiness.

I envy him…

As he turned into a giant black cloud,

Hovered above; embraced my love in the night sky.

A tear rolled down, and mingled with stillness in lake.

And soon it rained; emerged an urge to crush my ache.

But I stood low, dormant and lifeless.

I wait for the sky to get clear.

I envy him…

The musketeer who plundered into my home.

He took away all that was mine,

Sweetness on her lips, and her dimpled face in shine.

I wish his musket to kill me,

As her memories couldn’t help me die.

Image Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's - ViBGYOR

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Moonlight

Reddishness in the sky fades,

As the stillness in darkness ascends.

In the slight azure above horizon,

Birds return their homes together,

Flapping up and down their wings in twilight.

The calm and composure in the faint light,

Oozing out from clouds in flow,

Bathes the silent world with affection.

Its moon-face, a token of love for many

And a sign to embark into actions for werewolves.

For me, the face of moon reflects my heart.

I can touch my heart in reflection at lake.

A timid hush, as a comfort and healing

From the day’s tiredness is the moonlight for me.

Photograph Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's ViBGYOR

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The Journey...

Its album ‘Passions’ by Ghazal Maestro, Late Shree Jagjit Singh, playing on my computer while I am typing this. And the lyrics is conforming with emotions once I had. It was my first semester break, and I was going back home, in Gujarat. I had tried to cage my emotions within sheets of my notebook, somewhere which remains in its hideous isolation now.Then, I was different, from what I am now. At least I had tears, and I could spill them when I needed. Now even after million tries, I don’t get any. I wish, if I could feel light, bursting out from the complex lockage in my brains.

I was travelling alone, and I talked with myself all through the journey. And the reciprocation of turbulence of thoughts was imprisoned within certain pages. I stopped by at those pages today, while I was tearing them off before putting them on fire. And the pages read :

I sit still, and scenes through my window ‘pass’ by. 

Like projection of memories on walls, 

Glimpses of my existence in them pass by.

The distant horizon moves with me, like the ultimate goal in my life. 

Hills and its ranges, terrain rough and sprawling solitude pass by.

I watch as a viewer, terrains where I had been. 

Scraped pieces of my loneliness, my jobless thoughts in them pass by.

Rivulets in their topsy-turvy curves, 

Meeting and dividing; behold my soul. 

Kinships I had and pain of their losses pass by.

Away from solitude, my eyes snap at commotion,

As the city in energy passes by.

Of all few causes that put us down,

Million reasons to rise and smile pass by.

The obstinacy to laugh, promises to shine pass by.

The shine is in our goal, and the journey is our road to shine.

I still still, and scenes through my window pass by.

I close my eyes slowly,

Dazzles of glistens, sparks of enticement,

Fervor in my goals ‘waltz’ by.

Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Glitters on the New Year's Eve

In this coming newness

Bloom the flower of joy

In the garden of your life.

Fill your mug till its brink

With intoxicating happiness.

Lets say cheers to new aspirations

And imbibe it down,

Deep into our lives.

In this coming newness,

Above all religion,

Abide by laws of friendship.

Spread the song of love.

Tap your feet on solacing tunes

From strings of virtuousness.

Come!

Join my party,

Enroll into my resolution.

In this coming newness,

It’s an oath to Stay Human.

I wish you all, a very happy new year!

I present you a Laughing Buddha, for your never ending happiness. :)

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Photo-Snippets -> 'Bird of Passage'

I am a wanderer
Lost in the wilderness
Off the desolated road,
Into the sprawling realms.
On the brink, 
At the edge of my life,
The road will project me
Into an outer space where
Nix will be emotions.
I expect to meet someone
In that absolute emptiness;
My ultimate pacifier.
That shall end my Journey,
My never meandering.

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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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Oh Love! You are mine

I wish the sky to show me the Sun today; the sunshine of the first day of February that should have warmth of yours, and the clumsiness that your open hairs had on me. I wish if it could cover my face again. The flowers have already bloomed. I wish them to hold their fragrance good till you hold my hands again. My hands are empty though, but I know you would be holding them wherever you are now. I am waiting for the butterfly you always send, to let me know that you have put your face on my heart again. You had filled the colors daintily on the piece of paper with your lipstick stains in pink; and the nightingale had parceled it to me last year. I am waiting for if she is going to come to me again. I am waiting for if she is going to address me your message –‘Oh Love! You are mine’.

Though you chose to move away, I know it was not by your choice. You said you needed to go, but you had waited for me, I know. I was looking for you too, but couldn’t utter a word about you. The song we composed together stays revived, and it says that you are still here, in my heart where you always hived. This February, I play the tune again that you taught me on my guitar; and it’s my birthday too honey, and I am going to sing Happy Birthday to me myself, because you moved away so far.

How should I blame the fortunes, its him that made us meet; and if we couldn’t stay longer then I must not curse him for this bad treat. I know you would be unhappy too, because you had promised to live with me until I don’t leave. February is just a month, you made its relevance for me indeed. And at this note, I read your note that has your lipstick stains on it and it says ‘Oh Love! You are mine’.

When I walk around in spring, I remember to keep my hold on flowers soft. Tickling my fingers on the rosy petals reminds me of your fingers on mine, and my thumb caressing them slowly. I can’t hurt your hands with my grip hard, and so I touch the flowers soft. Though birds often do the chirruping that may resemble your scolds for me, but I miss the movement of your lips that I used to watch while you kept scolding me.
The tree with our names on it stands intact with his mates even today, but I sit under its shadows alone now. I touch our names engraved on it, and I recall how a girl proposed a boy- ‘Oh Love! You are mine; forever would you be my Valentine?’

[For We Have a Story]

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The Butterfly

On an ivory shade with some brown threaded marks; masked is my body meek and weak, popped out into two bright wing arcs.

And on my wings azure, lie mustered shapes and some tiny little dots; some lucid little hills and some round yellowish sprouts.

I never knew how I looked and what amativeness I had, until you came into my life with my image in your blue eyes clad.

I surmise my colors are no more blazoned; I haven’t seen myself since you had left, my charm left too with my mirror embossed on your eyes pinioned.

Now in the silence of my solitariness few chirruping I hear; what do they say, I can’t make out its meaning neither you can hear it clear.

On dry tongue of mine your sweetness is still alive; a flavor not to forget from our nibbling kisses; the scent of your embrace around my life.

How we lived together is a distant memory dainty; my hold on you and yours on mine; exchange of our gestures in doziness of wine.

Nowhere to live I have now but in memories of you, and in all those moments where we were together-a colored me & a colored you.

Lie they say that the most beautiful I am, nature’s worthy gift & spring’s charm I am; Truth I say that without you a dead musk I am, a bleached spot with no shine I am.

And before I die, a glimpse of yours I need; my last breath shall be the aroma of my love, of my lovely butterfly.

(©) ANSHUL GAUTAM'S

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I Found A Lonely Me...

Feeble dimmed steps,

Irradiated my eyes

Quilt’s beneath;

Awakened me

From lust in ream,

And broke the infatuated dream.

I moved to see,

I heard some heart throbs;

I found a lonely me.

It looked like day;

Or may be moonlight,

I say.

Fog with desire,

Impounded with ire,

Showed its love,

On my glassy window;

Their sexual intimacy,

Was there at show;

Passion in their cosmos,

Which I couldn’t mow.

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