to forget

To forget is to remember.
The memories they come gushing
however hard you try to hold back.
Its better to carry your memories along than to forget.

The waiting

Have waited too long
think i have missed the bus
well,its time to get moving.

the wanderer

why did I seek happiness
when all along it was in me.
Why did I seek companionship
in spite of being surrounded by people.
why did I seek solitude
even when the silences were too frequent.
why was I a wanderer in search of that elusive something
when what I seek was always within my reach.

Silences

The only possessions man has are
a stretch of road in this uneasy town,
some sentences that neither sting nor sing,
a sad sense of speeding time
and an armful of silence.
- An excerpt from the many poems of my immortal friend, Joey.

Will “o” wisps

Sometimes we try to hold on to those good times
Which we never want to end.

Sometimes we try to hold on to those people
Whom we consider close to our heart.

But the saddest thing is, they are all like the will “o” wisps.
They just tantalize and disappear.
To appear far off
Where you can probably never experience or see them again.

The unborn story

There is a story to be told.
A story of a past and the present, peopled by characters vivid and lively.
Sometimes they threaten to burst out of the deep corners of my mind
Where they have been locked for so long.
Sometimes they want to speak of their lives and their times
and of their longings and their aspirations.
Sometimes they want to keep silent
and let the ghosts lie in peace.
But if told a story would be born.

Or rather, should I live the story only in my mind?

.

Regrets

Why do one regret when the deeds were done consciously?
Why do one regret when the hurt is already inflicted?
Sometimes the regrets are not for the deeds done,
But for the helplessness in making amends
and to undo the unbearable loss.

Advice wise

It was a hot sweltering day and there I was, walking down a crowded part of Broadway. As a practice, my eyes are always cued on to observe the world around. And sometimes you do get to see some interesting happenings too. It was no different that day. There he sat by the shade of a parked car. A man in rags, head bent, intently absorbed in something, and quite oblivious to the world around. I moved closer, curious, and stopped to watch. There was a small heap of broken glass beside and he was crushing the glass pieces using two flat stones. Intrigued, I watched on as he crushed the glass pieces into a fine powder. Then, quite nonchalantly, he picked the fine powder between his thumb and forefinger and sniffed it into both his nostrils, one after the other. A chill went through me as he brushed his fingers and sat back with a contended sigh. Then I did something very foolish. Moving closer I asked him with great concern, “will that not hurt you in some way?”
Without even looking up he picked up a few more pieces and started his work again. I moved on, a wiser man, understanding that you should let people be and don’t offer unsolicited advice.

the image

You look at people and you see you.

Because, it’s the other person who dictates your behavior.

And you try harder, to portray the same image

you have portrayed over the years.

Any crack in the mirror will only contort your image

Making the other person confused,

probably inviting ridicule, fear or anguish

And the you in you remain hidden, always.

While your image plays out the role

you are destined to play

for life.