Eternal Loner

Surrounded by a sea of yellow,

Wishing for the darkness to fade.

I am nothing but a Sunflower,

For the Sun I have to forever wait.



Perched above a bough on a tree,

Gazing with blank eyes going wide.

I am nothing but a Night owl,

For the Night I have to forever wait.



Standing erect on one leg,

Waiting for the water to wade.

I am nothing but a hungry Crane,

For Food I have to forever wait.



All alone in the golden field,

Yearning for the color of jade.

I am nothing but a Solitary Reaper,

I have to forever wait,

I have to forever wait.



P.S: The use of Solitary Reaper is a mere reference to Sir Wordsworth's famous composition that goes with the same name.

(In)sane

It has been a while. No, I am not talking about the time that has lapsed since my last post. It has been a while since I last felt sane. Sanity is a companion which follows its own wishes and acts on self discretion. Wanted by each one and answerable to none, sanity writes its own script. Your wisdom, knowledge and desires are of no record or importance. There have been instances in the recent past when I so wanted to catch hold of it and trap it in a prison made of the strongest substance known to mankind, but alas, even those bars would have failed to captivate it. Sure, I can go ahead and post signs all over requesting eagerly to my sanity to come back, but will it result in anything good? Will it so happen that the next day I wake up, I feel the lousiness inside my head gone for good? Most probably not. The question is what should one do when in desperate need of sanity - call out for help or just wait and watch??

Sadness… An Equation?

Ah! The tears of unfathomable sadness. Cartman must have found them delicious. After all whatever Scott Tenorman had planned and executed to humiliate Cartman, it was his time to give him the piece of Cartman’s extraordinary brilliance. For those, who lost me from the first use of the word “Cartman”, let me take the liberty of introducing you to Eric Cartman of Comedy Central’s animated series South Park. The show is intended for mature audience, and is famous (I don’t agree with the infamous tag used by wikipedia) for its crude, surreal and satirical dark humor. The above reference was to an exceptional episode “Scott Tenorman Must Die” where in Cartman plans and executes his revenge for getting humiliated time and again by Tenorman. Anyways, no matter how much you like or hate him, I’m not here to write and publicize Cartman. His numerous fans have already made sure that he lives forever.

However, he isn’t the inspiration behind this blog today but it is what he said: “The tears of unfathomable sadness, yummy!” I know I would be branded a sadist for this statement, but I still gather all my courage to write it here: Tears or no tears, there is always an unfathomable sadness in every human being, which comes out time and again. The one and only counter cure is the happiness which is even more deeper than the sadness within. Unfortunately I happened to come across numerous examples, which have nurtured this thought.

In order to explain my point, lets take a group of four people - four healthy, sane and happy homosapiens. Lets name them A, B, C and Z. A’s happiness happens to have a directly proportional relation to a special person X, someone who is dear to heart. The equation is somewhat like:

X present = A happy, X absent = A not happy.

A’s sadness prevails when X is not there whereas A’s happiness takes over the charge when X is around for comfort. This equation is roughly how I’ll document A’s cheerful self and somber mood.

B on the other hand, possesses a switch to the valve between the two moods. That particular switch controls B’s mood. This switch is however controlled by the weight of what is going around. If we assume that surrounding happiness and sadness form a total of 100% and there is no other mood element present, then

Switch(B) = :) if %(surrounding :)) > 50
:( if %(surrounding :() > 50
:S if %(surrounding :( or :)) == 50

C particularly struggles with the sadness and loneliness these days, and sports a fake happiness to avoid questions like “Why so sad?” The main motif and important task for C these days, is to ward off any such awkward and gloomy questions. Fear of becoming a masochist (A willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences.) is getting the best out of C. In words of equation:

Mood(C) = Fake :) where C == !Alone
:( where C == Alone

Z has a slightly different case. Unlike the rest of the three, Z finds happiness in small gestures. The policy is when sad, do something to take your mind off it… do something impulsive, something stupid or something different, something random to brighten up your life, to get that special sunshine. All in all, Z’s events can be drafted as:

When Z == sad, do Z = random();

No matter how much I try to form an equation for Z’s case, I fail each and every time. This is the best I can do to let you guys know about Z. Probably, one can’t create an equation for happiness, one just stumbles onto it while doing random stuff.

I know I tried too hard to explain my point and I have performed poorly. But I think you got the point and so now aren't you done reading? Go get me a Sandwich! :P

Not meant to be.

It is when you sigh, oh so deeply, that I realize that you are standing right beside me and that we are not one and the same. You are not a part of me, at least not anymore. I start feeling the sensation of the touch that your hand is leaving on my hand. I don’t remember when we started doing it, but along the time, holding hands has become essential. It looks like it is what we do to connect to each other. One of the palms supporting the other and the ten fingers entwining into each other. I don’t remember how long we have been standing like this, looking at the horizon, wondering why don’t the sky and the earth actually meet at a point, why do they just give us an impression of it?

I drift back again to the day I had first met you. I had found you so adorable in that black shirt and blue jeans. Although it wasn’t love at first sight but still our story started then onwards, if I can call it a story at all. The length of it is so short that it can probably qualify as a fable, a fable that someday I might narrate to my son and daughter. He would idolize you, and she would dream about you. Coming back to the day you saw me, not the same day as I saw you. I can only take your word for it that you found me cute. But I know it was not the cuteness in me that brought you towards me, it was the cuteness that I found in you that made you cross the room and gaze into my eyes. I remember each of the sentences you have used since then to tease me, to irritate me or to make me happy distinctly. I remember every compliment that you have given me, or everything that you said you didn’t like about me.

It was never friendship, it was always this strange peculiar attraction to each other, the completeness we found with each other. It was all complimentary and not supplementary. The presence or absence of others was not of matter to me anymore. It was you who made the clock tick. Even then I knew that our paths are different. This is just the crossroads at which we happened to bump into each other. From here, you have to travel East and I’ve to lead my life towards West. But still those moments that we spent together, those discussions, those arguments weighed even more than combined mushiness of my previous relationships.

Today when I’ve to leave, leave this place and travel away from you, I feel this sinking sensation which is draining away all the warmth you had provided to my cold heart. But I can’t stop it and patch the hole that is coming into existence. You now look down into my eyes. Your deep brown eyes, they don’t ask me a question, and neither do they answer anything. I listen your heartbeat through them. I wish we could stay back for some more time and I could swim some more into those eyes, the ones that now have my eyes locked in a consistent gaze. But all I do is lean my head on your shoulder one last time and my heart whispers, “We were never meant to be.” and then you sigh again.

Desire

When the rain does splatter,
When the drops pitter-patter,
Take me away to a place,
Where no one will ever matter.

How I had wished to be alone,
Neither a whisper nor a moan,
Farther and farther than a milestone,
Where bonds the sun, earth and horizon.

But those inside my head, the demons,
Of treachery and prohibited legions,
Tie me to the past and the present,
For future they have no reasons.

All I desire is to break strings that bind me,
Finish the spider and web that accompany.
All I desire is to sprout wings and fly high,
Reach where the orange colors the blue sky.