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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The Open Window...

(Click on Image to Enlarge)

On closing my eyes, I fill thick brooded meshes in my lungs with air… I hold it for a while, pushing it a little further, until I can hold it no more. Freshness sprouting outside my open window descends deep down into me… Perhaps, its spring; I can see through the open window, trees ladened with new leaves and buds; birds chirruping, squeaking around in happy-playful mood. Jolly squirrel nests on the tree too, jumping from branch to branch. Sometime they stop by at the open window, staring at my partially lit face.

Can I be ever free? I have been captive under chains of my psychotic mind. Along every perspectived dimension in my mind, there jolts clumsy curiosity; the curiosity to arrive at a clue to freedom, a way to cut bars in the open window, to dissolve the tiny autumn within me and dilute it into the sprawling spring outside.

Tools made out of elemental love, I have used enough. Adamant chains tied around my torso don’t listen to them. In the environs of spooky silent nights, my imaginary friend visits me. He preaches to carve my tools out from hatred, assuring the success on blood soiled chains. Morally fed soul of mine ravages at this juncture; it still trusts in love, although yet to recover from past injuries bought in the love’s conspiracy.

The sunlight is warm, grazing over green trees outside the open window. At a certain time of the day, the Sun bathes my dark pestered room, throwing a shine of hope on my face. It’s the time when my friend in my shadow visits me. He shares his thoughts with me, conjuring me about life; What is life?

As the Sun rises up in the sky, friend in my shadow recedes, and he is away when its all dark again. He left me a note yesterday… When the Sun was bathing me in a spotlight of hope today at its time, I read the note:

“Life is beautiful outside your open window. Free yourself from the chains that never physically existed. Free yourself from the captivity laid by chains of your diverse mind. I am waiting, outside your open window….                                                  -Anshul"

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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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New Leaflets

Innocence in stipules,

The novelty in its shade

Pigmented in green

Lustrous in rays from Sun,

Waves in the air

Flimsy and translucent leaflets.

Born from the old stem

Brown and rigid,

Textured with experiences

It gained in a long time.

Leaflets breeze joy,

Pacify the previous pain

Sprinkling the newness in air

Freshening the surrounding

With ambiance of liveliness,

Like notes from sitar

Played in an early morning,

Solacing our mind

Healing the anguish

Descending into our ruptured soul.

Who cares, who plucked the leaf

Who pinned the giant in pain,

New leaflets must come

And breathe in life again.

The nature and its laws

Leaflets acquaint well.

Life has to move on,

With the newness, each new day

And prosper towards future

Till the pigment stays green.

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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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Home!!! | Gharaonda...

घर की याद तो आती थी,

आंसू छलक भी जाते थे;

लफ़्ज़ों में हाल बयां ना करते,

पर दर्शक समझ ही जाते थे.

हमारी तेज़ और स्पर्धा को

नयी उचाइयां जो देनी थी,

कुछ अधूरे ख्वाब थे हमारे,

पुराने कुर्ते के फटे जेब थे सारे;

इनको नया जो करना था,

अम्बर से प्रकाश को लाना था.

घर की झोली कम पर जाती

तो हौसला अपने अन्दर ही भर लिए;

मैं फिर आऊंगा की दस्तक छोर कर

घर से दूर हम निकल लिए.

वर्ष कितने ऐसे ही बीते;

संघर्ष में सनी स्याही से,

हम इतिहास के नये पन्ने भरते.

घर की बिलखती यादों को शांत कर

ह्रदय कठोर, हौसला ठान कर,

मैं जल्द आऊंगा के गीत गा कर,

मंजिलों की ओर हम बढ़ते रहते.

  

अपने आंगन से दूर रह कर,

विशाल गगन में अपनी छाप छोर कर,

आज चंद सितारे तोड़ लाया हूँ;

घर से दूर रह कर

अंधकार जो हमने देखा था,

हिम्मतों की खरी लौ में आज,

अमर दीपक जला कर लाया हूँ.

मंजिलों को हासिल करके,

कुछ और नये ख्वाब देख के,

हौसला कुछ और समेट ले आया हूँ;

नए धुनों में अपने गीत भर कर,

अपनी आवाज़ में गुनगुना रहा हूँ.

माँ के पास आज लौटने,

घर वापस मैं जा रहा हूँ...

घर वापस मैं जा रहा हूँ…

(C) ANSHUL GAUTAM

/*     I want to dedicate this poem to my lovely Father. What sort of days we have seen together, living away from our own home, for consecutive five years almost, they can' be described in words. However I just tried to present a glimpse in this poem. This is for the first time in my life when I have tried to write a poem in Hindi. I can speak, but honestly, I am very weak at writing Hindi. But still, I have tried.
And my Dad; he is very happy on being back to our home town, back to our home. My mom and me; we glad on seeing him happy. :))     */

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Explorations

Life has its meaning in living it. Praising one’s life presumes the extent to which they live their life. Living confined in boundaries of a garden never feasts us with reality. The reality has no limits, I suppose. Just pop your head above the boundary in your garden and there you will find another reality. The reality, that you never ever explored, as you were stitched to grounds and trapped in the circumference that you created for yourself. There is a lot to explore. The life itself ends when explorations end. Check your veins. Its pulsating is not an essential proof for your existence to be alive, but your continued exploration is.

I have always tried my hands on loads of things that impress me the most. Apart from writing, filming movies and photographing has fascinated me the most. I have started to explore this field too nowadays. Consequently I had been on a research to find a good cam for myself. Finally, almost two weeks ago I received my Camera from Flipkart. Its Canon Powershot SX-150 IS. This is a bridge camera and helps me learn all those tunings and options that are available in a DSLR. Effectiveness might not be that true in terms of quality in its images compared to DSLR, but is sufficient for beginners. I am an amateur beginner for Photography so this was my choice. Moreover this was the best possible bridge camera under my budget.

After my exams reached end, I shifted with my baggage at my friends’ flat and will be staying here till my classes resume. I couldn’t go to my home, missing my mom and dad. :( But I had no choice. I had to learn few of my Computer Science subjects so I am staying here. But other than this saddened face of coin, there is a lit face on the other side where I am learning photography with huge vigor and interest. Anirban Da has been helping me, being a support always, and guiding me appropriately. :)

I will be soon coming up here on my blog with photographs that I will be shooting in the process of my learning. :)

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