Memorabilia "2011"

As the 2012-bells chime the beginning of another fresh start, I look down the memory lane...

This year has been a very memorable one, from the one prior to it and before. I will reminisce the time lived with great compassion and wist, like a mother dog licks her new born pups. I am equating it to that degree of memorabilia because of many opportunities, which were rarely missed or pursued with a winning streak, like that of a great race horse and triumphant cheers to the finish line.

November was a beautiful month, saving the weather and the over-zealous swarm of gladiators preparing to fight in an open arena. And they had me down by the knees, wondering on my twist of fate, but then again, destiny is a sly old bitch who f***s you in the face with an innocent expression. It all happens when you're caught devouring from a jar of cookies which probably, wasn't destined to be yours for the taking.

January was a month of settlement...to come to terms with the past. It brought about the flowering of a new bud, something like experiencing a world flower in a grain of sand. Come march, my birthday was rather special, spent at someone's wedding and appeasing those who didn't matter to me. Back then, I should have heeded the warning bells and felt the wet, brown kelp sliding through my fingers, slipping out of control.

At a time when it poured blood not rain, and bombshells were the symphony of the orchestra, I was rescued from the throes and brought to a safer land. Having grown in a defined new space, I got in touch with myself. Now that the safe haven where I had once run to be free of the chained devils is no more, I have sought the light and a way to carve a path for myself.

I would offer prayers and thank the Almighty, Allah to bestow upon me his mercy and blessings, and to watch over me as I sleep. And to shape my thoughts and dreams...haunting me no more with phobias and nightmares. Fearless. And to overcome the obstacles He chooses to sow in my way, as I move forward.

On a happier note, I propose cheers to the end of a chapter... And the beginning of a new year.

Psychedelic

Psychedelic, knew no bounds.
Caught in an euphoria of torment,
Limitless sarcasm of thoughts
Or actions, otherwise.
Deeper than blood, dripping pain.
God's alzheimer infecting the nerves.
Totality of a transgression,
A trespass upon my territorial
Denomination, I believed.

Sprunged from these wrecked remains,
Honest willful disdain blazoned,
Flowed to recumbent the Spirit of
A changeling, wild little play-mare.
Mighty heart, defined rules.
Sterner hands sought perspective
The Jungle welcomed all.

Stench of debauchery, had left its
Imprint on the beach, the
Sundown staining sands of time,
An immortal word, unforgiven.
Biding days, passing through
Towers and turrets, sand castles
A woman's dream, beclouded
Enigma amidst an olive branch
Poisoned, the masterstroke...

On an Ethical Note...

Ever wondered what its like to be deeply religious?
I googled "relationships and love in islam" and found a blog where most aspects have been explained to the finishing dot, upon courtship, union between man and wife and the gateway to a healthy marriage.

The three major sins in Islam. Associating partners with Allah. Committing murder. Third, but not the least, it's adultery.

More food for thought...

Ever wondered what the penalty for adultery would be? It's one-hundred-and-fifty lashes. Imagine getting officially whipped, that too so many times. The Caliphs of the Old ordered the punishment and it used to be strictly carried out.

Coming to capitalist punishment, it still is the order of the day in many countries.

And the punishment for stealing was chopping off wrists. Thieving was forgivable only when it was for hunger, i.e. in the case of immense poverty. Stealing for greed meant chopping off only one wrist. If caught stealing the second time, the second wrist would be chopped off as well.

Before the sordid reasoning of Islam had set in, the sinning girl would simply be shamed and stoned to death for adultery. And the man would be left scot-free, to roam the ends of the earth. But Islam deemed an almost equal punishment for both. The shamed woman would be locked up in a room with only food and water for company, deemed unfit for contact with the outside world, for the rest of her days, i.e. after being lashed or whipped with incongruity. This is probably one of the most horrible ways to die, locked up in a cell till you breath your last.

In this era of live-in relationships and multiple affairs, lashings would equal unjust murder. It would be left to one's upbringing and morals imposed by our cultural surroundings to know where to draw the line between morality and religion.

A Snazzy Bit of Somethin'...

A mist,
Concealed within a wink.
For something so human
Yet blatantly metamorphosed -
The mirror revealed all
But the face of a stranger.
Reflection tells of
Outer nuances
In human nature.
Our eyes mirror our
Thoughts, otherwise.

A candescent thought
Concealed within a blink.
How compelling the revelation.
Revelation, as the psalms
Had it told, all but truth,

The horn of Gabriel,
Doomsday and the wars.
Betrayal, now forgotten as
Eve fed Adam the fruit 
Plucked of forbidden tree.
The serpentine, leading to
Man's age-old folly of 
Disobeying God.

The above, also written a long while ago is snazzier than the one I'd posted earlier.
Signing off now. Here's to a fabulous evening, hope you'll like it just as much as I would...

Reminds me of a good ole Candle.. :-P

This was written on a piece of fading, yellow paper in one of my notebooks, three years from now. Its not exactly what one would call "refined", but it was a start alright!

In the darkness,
A distant glimmer
Shone from a pin-prick of vision,
Asmi, the light from the
Inner core of the eye.
A panaroma of Illusion
Spread the etches and
Into the depths of the dark,
Till shade and shadow
Became one with the light.
Their contrast only fleeting,
For an instant in time.

Filial depths spoke of
Untold mysteries,
Unspoken thoughts,
Forgotten desires,
Umfulfilled promises...
Concealed beneath that
Cloak of shadow,
Refuting their own silence. 

Titleless, its something along the lines of a dramatic advertisment. And quite recently, there has been a jewellery line by the name, Asmi. I doubt people would recall that, but still I have mentioned this for accredation's sake (although I'd written this a year before asmi was launched). Its neither awful nor disasterous, but something which I couldn't do justice to. Along the lines of something mysterious (as i have it told), it doesn't exactly hit on any particular thing, lot of pondering and straying of thoughts, perhaps.

Yet I'd be glad if i were to get a second, rather encouraging opinion on this one. Maybe one of these days, I will fill out the gaps to make it more presentable and scholarly. Quoting Frost, I still have miles to go before I sleep. =)

Sunday Blues :*)

A depressing sunday peered with gloomy prospects. I listened to the upbeat vocals of "Sunday morning", a song which cajolingly stirred the emptiness I was feeling, ear-plugs blocking any semblance of noise from the outside world.

"Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin..."

I was at the neighbourhood ATM. Heavy-lidded, I was jerking awake abruptly. Eyes burning, I fought the urge to give in and punched in the keys. Wrong combination. Fretfully awake now, I made the right entry this time.

"But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do..."

Money launderers plotted schemes aplenty and always seemed to corner me when I wanted to own the prettiest white pair of sandals at the shoe store. I had set my sights on Aldo this time. (Sigh)
I intended on spending right, my ten days worth of pay.

I grinded my nails against the counter and swiftly pocketed the crisp, green wad of notes the teller-machine spat. Each note had a picture of a baldie-face with owlish spectacles. I didn't appreciate him, the father of a dead nation.

To me, dead was not just a word - it signified the detoriation of the rupee in the foreign exchange scenario! Another strike had taken the nation by storm the day before yesterday.

I drove to the house with an off-white paint and starkly green highlights. I walked in the room and drew the blinds to my personal space. This was my psychedelic shack. The place to be when sundays get harder and harder to kill.

Two hours gone by... Robin Hood, a Russel Crowe starrer wasn't all that bad I thought, as I bemusedly snapped the laptop lid shut. I wondered if it was worth the while. Maybe not, but it was almost evening and another sunday had almost passed-by, wiithout any real acclaim...

"Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave..."