Sunday, June 27, 2010

Dear School Bag,

This is the first time I'm writing to you.

It's with you that I spent 14 years of my life. The smell of fresh pages, everyday books, broken pencils, half eaten erasers...
For the past few days you kept coming back to my mind. For the first time I missed my childhood.
Over the years almost everyone wrote about childhood memories and loss of innocence and things like that. It took so long and finally it sunk in that it's not possible for me to go back. There is no way back for me.

For the last 10 years I kept thinking growing up was so much fun...it surely is an adventure...
But a few days back for the first time standing alone in my old bed room on a cloudy afternoon I missed those days...those late nights when I hurriedly packed you up with the next days routine..the early mornings when I opened you up to make a last minute check and stuff in my tiffin box in your small outer pocket...

You've been with me through a lot of my first's. My first friends in school, my first punishments, my first fights, my first tears....
It's amazing how we never broke up in those 14 years. There were times when you slouched alone in the corner of my room for months during vacations. I never wanted to go to school...I used to pray that the holidays never end. Little did I notice how much you must have longed to have me take you on our regular strolls.

There were days when you slept on the green grasses of the Maidan while I was busy with march past...there were times when you got wet while I dint care much.

14 years went by slowly but steadily. Since then I've never tried to look back. And eversince I grew up unknowingly. My 20's brought with it chaos, responsibility, bitter truths, coffee and a whole lotta new people. I lost you. I didn't even realize any pain. Of losing you, of growing up. Umpteen realities of the adult world spoke louder than the little prince. I couldn't hear the Little Prince anymore.

31 years have not been cruel to me. I met a lot of great people and made a few good friends too.
When I first met her, even she had someone like you. I don't know if she has lost that someone special. Coz she's in her 20's too. But she misses him too. I know how much she cares about little things in her life. I always realize late.

But I remembered you and with you came a whole lot more...bits and pieces of my unkindled youth...words which I can never learn again...sums which I can never solve again...friends whom I can never get to see again...playing fields where I can never play again...concerts where I can never sing again... truths I can never tell, staircases that I can't ever climb, fears that I can never feel...

I will never get a chance to see you again. I guess life is that way. Time takes away a lot. Wherever you are , thank you for giving me so many memories. I can never go back to where I've been. But whenever I see a little boy or a girl walking with someone as special as you every morning I keep looking and it makes me wonder. And I ask myself, 'Has the sheep eaten the flower?' And everything changes.

With love and many memories,

Neel

P.S I miss you. And no grown ups will ever understand that this is a matter of much importance.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Faraway in the crooked eyes of the night
where insights nestle with pride
My bewildered mind slowly rewinds
from the brokenhearted pavements of light

What took me so close to the lonely gallows
when I barely could feel the glow
I lived and I died , you laughed and you cried
and then you went away with the flow.

those precious hours, took away a lifetime
as the carpet moved below
the drops on the flowers faded at the right time
on the road we were bound to go

the postcards flew and bid me adieu
the highway stopped singin' the blues
shadow to shadow my fingers bled
my soul string didn't have a clue

in this earthly realm, full of ache and condemn
there aren't many visions of the thorns
the stains of blood dried on the crown
yet helplessly life goes on.





Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Wilderness of broken minds
stares into the neon signs
as the empty boulevard lazily unwinds

motionless topographies
wells of silent melodies
greens and blues and pink and purple memories rewind

laughter sings a dismal song
Mercy wonders what went wrong
Fear cries in desperation, pain in agony

What's beneath the skinny ice ?
I brought myself new roller skates
Days have numbered suddenly
the moon child escalates.

shadows crawl in empty halls
deep beneath the southern mall
the lonely stalker creeps into the noisy afternoon

love meanders like a n anxious
wind inside an envelope
hanging on in quiet desperation to be free!

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

For boo

When you're down and troubled
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, whoa nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name,
And you know wherever I am
Ill come running, oh yeah baby
To see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall,
All you have to do is call
And Ill be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.
You've got a friend.

I know I've not been the best buddy possible. And I've been cheesy may times. But life teaches us to learn and life teaches us to change. I'm not too well. And I miss you today. And I will miss you tomorrow.
For all the best and the worst times, may the blue confetti dreams come true. May you stay forever young. May god bless you always. I believe in him.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

"Havent you heard its a battle of words
The poster bearer cried.
Listen son, said the man with the gun
Theres room for you inside."

Richard Wright (Dark Side Of the Moon)
28 July 1934 - 15 September 2008

Wright’s richly textured keyboard layers were a vital ingredient and a distinctive characteristic of Pink Floyd's sound. Thank you Rick Wright for Dark side Of the Moon, Wish you were here, Meddle. They are rock music at its deepest, most beautiful and most moving. . .

Saturday, September 13, 2008

HOW MANY TIMES MUST THE CANNON BALL FLY BEFORE THEY'RE FOREVER BANNED?

In the memory of the 150 people who died of the serial blasts by the Indian Mujaheddin till last night.

Friday, September 12, 2008

You took the bus early morning, when I was asleep
to a place where I've been, to a place I wanna go with you
someday
You walked through the colourful dingy lanes Of the holy land
you touched the water when it all began
and you saw millions of tiny wishes floating by
you floated ours...
and the rains came, it brought back memories
fresh, vivid, lazy
I drove through the dusty lanes of calcutta
drove past your familiar roads
roads that brought back memories too...
"Some say love, it is a hunger
an endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
and you it's only seed"