Hari

To Your Glow

Wed, 15 Feb 2012 11:43:47 -0800

I crank this

Rugged old machine

Churning a voice

Tying a story

And so afar

From you seeing

A mount and a valley

From where I let you go

Or was it

The other way around

Been so long

Memory shies away

Like a stranger

And I don't remember

Pages of poem and prose

Of the days long gone

I fill them still

My ink's dried up

And this machine's old

The words seem

jarring and cold

Like a winter night

A morning after

And I wonder

What I'm mourning after

Feel the touch of dew

On this face

Perhaps something else

And I wake up

And there in the distant hill

I see you still

Glowing in the ray

Of the Sun that day

Now I stare

At an empty desk

The window beside

Breaking the empty night

All around me

These dark hues of blue

And all around my mind

The faces of you

I struggle with words

The arms tired

The valley deep

And the hill so steep

I can't reach you so far

My shout so feeble

It dies

In the first gust of wind

And it breaks its promise

To let you know

I am right below

Arms stretched still

Looking up this hill

To your glow

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Your Dream isn't an Economic Proposition

Sun, 01 Jan 2012 09:12:52 -0800

What you want to do and what your put your time into unless afflicted by social considerations, don't let it be a victim of scenarios drawn in your or someone else's mind.

The rupee is weakening, you can't make any money on stocks, the loans are expensive, the rent keeps shooting high, the clients don't have money, the parliament is being diabolical, India can't reach 300 in a test match. Grave issues really.

But when the night grows dark and your eyes shut and you find ways to travel to places and people in strange ways all these begin to pale into non existence. And in such journey's lie things unique to you. Things that only you've seen and no one else has a semblance of an opportunity to figure out. That's your opportunity, your shot. Take it. Only you can do something about it and make it happen. Don't let your dream drown in the cacophony of the inconsequential-s around you. Your job is your dream and when things fall apart or resurrect around you finding ways to survive, hold on to what is perhaps the only thing in this world that is yours.

Give this year for it. Don't let the economy buoy or bust its flight. Vaccum it around your persistence howsoever of a pester it might be.

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This night is sleepless

Wed, 07 Dec 2011 12:26:00 -0800

This is a sleepless night. The mind is buzzing with thoughts, the possibilities, the vacuum, the people, the chances, the luck, the distress, the disgrace, the betrayal. Things are muddled and there is no rest. The shoulder droops these days and the hands carry no weight. I once wrote about the boy in that class in my school looking out from the window to the open sky. He was thinking where he would be in that world outside when his time comes. He is out there now, here in this night and through the prism of the mind he is looking back at the boy, trying to look through his eyes into his mind, to steal his dreams. But I here can't see, the picture is murky, the prism too thick. This night is sleepless, devoid of dreams, both mine and the boy's. I will remember this night. This night won't forget me. Sent on my BlackBerry® from Vodafone

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Glow

Thu, 10 Nov 2011 10:30:48 -0800

by the window

lit in the moonlight

you glow

and i stay

and i stare

the lip and the eye

pretty your face

to find i try

through the curtain

by the window

in the moonlight

so i stay

and i stare

standing near

just right there

by the window

in the moonlight

but you dont see

and I dont say

must we be

just this way

by the window

in the moonlight

hiding

in its glow

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The World in These Eyes

Fri, 30 Sep 2011 14:14:31 -0700

let these words

from my heart soar

and fly to you

touch you

wade in

through your skin

into your heart

and let them stay

with you

within

let them shine

in your eye

and see the world

for you

spin

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A Letter on the Deathbed

Tue, 13 Sep 2011 11:47:37 -0700

My sense of time loses its lusture

And the eyes tire to lift

Against this strangely dark viel

That now surrounds me

I have seen the ecstacy

of time's simple pleasures

Moments that don't stay

Yet very much remain somehow

The hands of heartburn and despair

Have often embraced my heart

The wings of pain have spread

To keep away the bright lights of hope

I have seen silhouettes

Of the glorious and kind

Felt the touch of

Friendships and kin I leave behind

Yet the realms of memory

Seem not to will to take me beyond

The visions of those moments

And keep me away from the life, my own

I have died before

Yet born again the next moment

Felt every grain that passed

From the sands of my time

Dreamed of bravado and flair

That remained, though never seen

I am my own victim

I was made and broken by my pride

I have seen brilliance

And been guest to dirt and filth

In this life I have met God

I have met his chosen men

And now as I am led to my final gate

Of a journey uniquely mine

I take no lesson

Nor leave one to give

I have nothing at all

Of what I hoped to hold in my death

The remorse, the glint, the guilt, the dreams

None paid a visit in this glory hour

And as the clouds of death,

Bear upon and bare me

Of what I was to become

And what became of me

I have for you a bit of my soul

A touch of my swagger

And all the love

I leave as a father

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The Trouble With Negativity

Tue, 02 Aug 2011 10:32:49 -0700

..is that it can drain you of your energy..like a parasite. Worse it doesn't make itself evident. You reel in with all the negative bits in your mind and you keep fighting it, more like a reflex. And it drains you while you fight..and it fights back by eating you up from inside and then it hammers you down sapping every bit of whatever it is that makes you alive. You don't feel the life around, you don't see the possibilities and chances. You want to create but your hands won't budge, your minds no longer blank waiting to be filled, it is instead filled with thoughts upon thoughts rising from that small seed of doubt and sadness that was sown long back. And it has now grown into every corner in your mind and then begins to find itself into your body. Your health deteriorates, you feel tired, disoriented and you lose focus and thoughts and direction.

Not a good place to be. But it works like a drug, addictive and like the fleeting joy of putting yourself through pain you get a high out of the lows of where you are. But when one digs deep enough one knows it's not good, because it doesn't let you create and build..there's nothing of value that comes out of you because the energy you carry is of decimation and destruction. You're not up to anything good and you can't see others up to anything good. That's when you truly realize the extent of the damage. When you look out to dim out hope and optimism not just within but even around you.

Bad bad scene.

You don't want to be that person. Don't board that ship. The world needn't be fought, it needs to be built.

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I Was to Print a Poster Today, Then I Saw This

Fri, 06 May 2011 22:12:36 -0700

Painting till I a point was my only true hobby, and then I stopped sometime after moving to Bombay.

I met photoshop for the first time nearly a decade ago thanks to my sister. It rekindled my affair with visual art. I also realized it perhaps is a better friend than the brush given the scope of my talent. Much like what the folks in this video talk.

But then it got me back to painting too, a sort of rediscovery. I might spend more time on digital, but I have a new set of brushes too today. And I see a lot of people going back to it. And I think the computer has a hand in that.

HandpaintedType is a project that is dedicated to preserving the typographic practice of street painters around India.

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The Artist's Tale

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 21:09:00 -0700

The world doesn't let an artist be. It wants you to play the part you are and not be the part you play. And so the artist sells his art .. while those who pose sell themselves.

The artist seeks his own acceptance, while the posers seek acceptance what they make.

The artist has nightmares, the poser tries to dream.

The artist shuns the limelight, the poser revels in the other's afterglow.

The artist sees the pain, the poser manufactures it.

The artist lives the life .. the poser chases the lifestyle.

To know the real from the decoy you need to look into their eye.

You see yourself in the artist's eye, while you see the posers themselves in theirs. The only true mirror is the artist's eye, while the poser looks for those that make them look good.

The poser though never looks more than once into the artist's eye because they see the truth. They don't look because the artist's hands can speak their truth. When they look again, the posers, they try to escape by breaking the mirror that they see then. But it is the poser that is then broken while the artist just find newer ways to reflect in his manifold pieces.

The artist spends a life finding oneself because his mirrored eye doesn't let him see himself, while the pposer spent her life selling herself. The artist loves the poser though for it is in her that he gets closest to who he is.

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The Stage

Tue, 12 Apr 2011 13:14:33 -0700

The gimmicks will die

The caricatures that we're will cease

The curtains will come down

The seats will be empty soon

The show is about to end

The charade will culminate

The lies we lived

The fantasy we built

The part we are not

The stage we didn't belong

The trips you made

The tricks you played

The time will end today

The truth will look tomorrow

The ridicule that you are

The riot you are not

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Lessons in Trade in a Day

Fri, 25 Mar 2011 05:13:01 -0700

3 Lessons that I learned one fine day a few months back after probably 15 minutes of reflection on the day's events. The title isn't misleading it just has a totally different connotation to what you might otherwise expect.

1. People are insecure, and when you transact with them you transact with their insecurities as well. Money isn't the only consideration when you transact with insecurities. You need to know where they're coming from and where they want to go. When addressing an insecurity you need to fill the gap between what they are or what they seem to be and what they perceive themselves or what they want to be.

2. Never give up something you own because you don't know what to do with it. Sell if you want to but don't give up.

3. Never set your heart on something you don't own because ownership isn't just a matter of money for its owner

There were more, but those were just life lessons...no one has time for them.

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Soul Ship

Sun, 20 Mar 2011 11:31:33 -0700

there is a sea inside

the waves running deep

a chill spreads outside

with the breeze of your breath

there is a storm

brewing

there is a strom

brewing

there is a storm

brewing

a stone for a heart

set within the depths

of an ocean unknown

now chained in time

the moss of memories

bits of dead moments

the stench of stale stories

a soul shipwrecked within

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Life

Fri, 25 Feb 2011 08:21:27 -0800

Being and feeling alive every second is the only assurance of life that life can provide you with.

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I Land

Sun, 20 Feb 2011 09:50:21 -0800

An island built in my dream

I have lost my way to it

My own island is distant and cold

In my sight but way too far to hold

I seek a ship and a captain

To my island we go and not go lost again

_____/\______

~~~~\___________/~~~~

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Being Impromptu

Fri, 18 Feb 2011 11:02:10 -0800

We all want our life to be impromptu, we like sharing our impromptu moments. Trouble is wanting to to be impromptu isn't being quite being impromptu.

Being impromptu is also different from being open to be impromptu. Being open to be impromptu on the contrary is not being one. If you're always up to something new every weekend, on plans made on the way, you aren't being impromptu. Impromptu is if you decide to chuck the plans this one time to get some work done. You are just a man with a plan to not have a plan otherwise.

You're predictable, you're boring.

So don't tell me you are an impromptu kinda guy because you are not if you do. You're just an aberration of the fun guy that you want to be, stop being one for your own sake.

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Buying Facebook Fans

Sun, 06 Feb 2011 23:22:19 -0800

This makes me sad and go lol at the same time.

From Evernote:

Buying Facebook Fans

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Sunday Morning Sketch

Sat, 05 Feb 2011 22:03:09 -0800

2 Faces

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Of Fate, Faith and Fathering Feelings

Wed, 02 Feb 2011 06:38:12 -0800

Expectation and fear together gave birth to misery. Misery which drives us to believe in God and the rituals to please him (or her) so that we can make sense of our lives. Frankly, unless we're driven by superficial non existent virtues of the world, somewhere inside us we all worry about the purpose of our lives. It most certainly is a hard question to answer, but maybe we don't need to figure that out. The simple way out is keep our spirit the one that drives our soul clean and true, lead a life that we would find to be noble and everything else will take care of itself, if there is a God worth praying to he will see and judge and thus. Troubles are bound to happen, we can't live in a bubble box that will keep us happy every second of our life, and it is not noble to be greedy about happiness. Let's try to take things in our stride and make the most of the good days we get and weather the bad ones by staying strong and resilient.

Keep the faith of a better day, for faith fathered fate.

That said I'm dreading all the test of the faith fate plans to throw at me now. Expectations, fear, etc.

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We are a Digital Generation

Sat, 22 Jan 2011 10:46:49 -0800

We are a digital generation. We are binary. There are things we do and things we can't. And we move from what we can do to what we can't so as to do what we can't now, then. Our lives is then a collection of this movement.

Our memories is the process of the first scratch to the final push before moving on to a new slate. We probably place a lot more weight on this journey than the destination, and that's our generation. We are not about a long winding novel, but a series of short stories, or so we want to be. We hope that the success that defines our eventual life will not be the length in words but the length in chapters of the book we have sat down to write. Our lives a patchwork of memories, one to the next.

We are a digital generation. We move from 0 to 1 to 0 to 1. The hope is in what these two string together. Our lives though have become momentary. Our lives have become digital and instant. The instances are losing their relevance to moments. Our memories become short term, much like our goals and the attention spans shorter. We live within 2 digits. We move from 1 to 0 to 1 to 0. The worry is that the two might just sum up to zero.

What are doing? What should we do? Should we write a story or should we write stories? The answer perhaps is not digital, the answer perhaps isn't binary.

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Shining Star Dead

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 11:46:28 -0800

On perhaps a sad sunday, July 25th I wrote this and a very short story, that of course is a separate story for some separate day.

One fine evening

You saw a star

Never seen before

It shined bright

Brightest that night

You thought it shined

Just for you

That it smiled

Just for you

Long gone though

Was the shine

For years it burned

Long been the night

Since it died

Just for you

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