Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Just like the rain

In a time when the ship was rudderless, without a mast, but with some heading towards the promised land, You came by, reminding me that You were watching all these time, waiting for me to ask.

In a time when I endlessly asked, why? You never stopped me, instead, offered me new questions to be asked, new horizons to be found.

In a time when the throat was parched, You offered a chance to make better use of it instead of just drinking, but to sing your Glories, no matter how much it croaked, You smiled. 

In a time when I fell hard, you made it harder, with a chance to learn from it, and grow.

In a time when others needed some comfort, You helped ease their pain, and let me be a part of that upliftment, no matter how small the deed may be.

In a time when the bullet was next in a game of russian roulette, you helped me put down the gun, and laugh about it.

Just like the rain, rejuvenating the Earth below my feet, by just thinking about the moments we shared on the journey which I am still taking, you help ease the pain a little. 

I'll be bugging you a bit more this time around, and no more excuses of not being able to listen. 

That is all I ask of you. 

Just listen.

And like the rain, rejuvenate us all.

Rest in peace, my friend, and Guru. 

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Phobia!

Tell me, o Wise man of the mountain, for I have a question
See I have come from somewhere quite far, just that you being so close
I delayed it on purpose
Ignored you
But now I come to you, seeking wisdom, seeking for answers

Answers, for questions I'm yet to ask even myself

By now, the Wise man on the mountain, lets call him Bill, looks up to me and says:

Homie, you came just right. Surprised I call you homie? what do you call someone who dwells in your heart all the time, and listens to you all the time, without a word of disrespect or rejection?

I nodded, and asked him back:

Homie, now I've got a problem. See, I think, I have some sort of phobia in....

Oecophobia? asked Bill

No, I love my home. 

Nyctophobia? 

No! I just turn the lights on

Homie, I was kidding. You have....panphobia!

Pan fried what????

Panphobia! you're afraid of something, but know nothing. Generally anxious, nothing substantial.

No, I mean, yes, o' great man of the mountain Homie! See, somehow, nothing stays with me in life. The minute I start to put some decent effort and TLC to it, poof! it vanishes. Saying this, my head goes down automatically and a gush of acrobhobia kicks in.

Dude, can I call you that? I say you got Panphobia, and maybe specks of other different phobias, but deep inside, you've gotta come over it man. Tell me more....

MOTM (Man of the mountain), for example, this girl I fancy....

Parthenophobia! He screams

No! Listen....

I say hi to her, she looks right through me
Maybe I'm not just good enough for her
Damn it boy, its your first time out
For starters to look at you is like winning a bout

Smooth lines and expensive gifts
Classy cars and shopping trips
Wining and dining in posh establishments
Credit cards and fancy equipments
Gold, check! Cheque, check

Just as I was getting to hit the bass line, MOTM nudges in...

Alright stop! Your rap, sounds like crap! Now get on with it boy. 

So yeah homie, i do nothing of the things above, instead, I offer unconditional, unparralled love. But I got this jitters man, that I'm not good enough... 

By the time i got the last line, mountain man is no longer there.

Instead, he left a note.

Dear Homie,

Nice talking to you, but i too, have Onomatophobia. Fear of hearing you say fear again. Till you get over this, I'll be reachable at the following number:

1-800-I dont give a shit.

Regards,

MOTM

PS - can you like give me a cooler name or something? MOTM? Bill? sheesh.......

Monday, April 4, 2011

Sajna re!

ah, the peace and quiet, sometimes, can be taken for granted, for a ride.

It's been close to 3 exhilarating weeks now. The warm fuzzy feeling inside.

I've got so much muck trying to wrap around me at the moment, like a warp trail, circling me in a tight noose, but this feeling, this warm fuzzy feeling, keeps me going. One cannot complain of the timing of all these, perhaps, another episode to learn something out of it, most so often misunderstood and ignored.

Warm Fuzzy feeling. WFF. The source?

Must it be a person? Can't it be a thing, or an incident? A gesture, perhaps, or a song listened in the distant past, a leaf fallen just on the right side of the shoulder, may even be a smile, or a brush with a friendly pet at the stores.

For now, I'll leave the source all mixed up. It is actually more complicated than what is above, but generally can be defined to an amalgam of all that is there. Positively.

Come back, o' source of the WFF.