Confessing Secrets

I have been admin of several literary Facebook pages which deal with art and presentation of artistic talents. Fortunately, I happened to be one of the co-admin of a confession page on Facebook lately. I am amazed to see the rising popularity of that confession page which is subduing the popularity of any other page on Facebook. The confession page I am currently seeing, where I was asked by one of my senior to manage as the admin, is currently getting approximately twenty confessions each day. I am surprised to see the number of likes which has crossed the mark of 800 today, and this figure was achieved within a span of two weeks since the page was formed. This is a reason for enviousness as I am also looking after my own Facebook fan page which has hardly got 520 likes and that too in this period of two years. Moreover pages like BCET Bloggers and Facebook page of our college’s Tech-cum-Cultural fest, which is being managed by me again, has hardly turned out to be this popular. Reasons?

It is the desperation of being pulled together and expressing what they never dared to say to the opposite genders. I won’t get biased on any side, I am just presenting my sole reactions on seeing the database of confessions we are receiving. And I can see, that we are getting equally sincere confessions from the both sides. At this juncture, I wonder, why are people so tempting towards spilling out their hearts about their love concerns? If they wanna spill their heart out then isn’t there anything else that they would like to share and contemplate about?

I get to learn something from this. If you want to get popular on social media then you would have to project your actions and plan your way out through advertisements in such a way that it relates with the 'attracting phenomena' of opposite sexes. And certainly yes, to a very large extent this is correct. You can see how almost every advertisements on television are now being presented and screen played. They resemble your love life somewhere or the world of your love-fantasy or may be about the broken love life of yours. These three things I should say are working as the three chief dots which draw the big popularity triangle.

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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 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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Brain-sick's Diary #3 >> Cold Emotions

I am swimming in a pool of thoughts. In a silent room, doors closed, panes in windows shut, and lights from my laptop screen is the only source; unveiling a part of my face, more of my hands on the keyboard. With denial of connection somehow with brains, here is something my heart wants to spill out. Its my birthday today. And I am wondering, why did the God select me for my mom. Could this not have happened that some other baby was lucky enough to get into my mom’s womb? Why it was me?
There are questions that are unanswerable. Then I wonder why do such questions have to exist, when answers to them are never found. My mind throttles deep down into such thoughts, mesmerizing me with unanswerable questions.
On my headphone, its Coldplay playing… 'Fix you'.

‘When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse…

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?’

How true this song is. I cant explain the sufferings, affection that got killed, in course of events that I faced and left them behind on my timeline. But somewhere, I lie struck in reverse. Is the past so dear that we tend to overlook the pleasant and optimistic present? The formidable past, that’s what heart believes, keeps poking from under the veil of sewn stitches. 

It has been quite a span, and I haven’t come up here with a post that’s significant. It was this song by Coldplay, that pushed my fingers onto the keyboard, and pinned down emotions of abstract blend on my blog.

I have been busy with my work, my college, my tries at photography and in mesh of complex thoughts. But I expect to come back here with colors in poetry… 

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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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