born again

i tell myself that i
covet you
a disease that can be undone.
but my symptoms
make me fear of something terminal
of love requited
in uncertain measures
and of love in spite.

of possibility that
had been erased
but for the
intertwined lives.

another flower must bloom
on the grave of our memories
i must die
and be born again.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The anthem of the deluded

Image
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vKDOWAf5M8&feature=player_embedded Sorry, can't seem to embed it here...  See this new commercial by coca-cola. Coca-cola: the glorious fizz drink maker who are making this world better by spreading happiness apparently (through making us drink pesticide laced poison and depleting our water table and spreading violence against labor union & wreaking local communities in  Guatemala and many other places) This wonderful ad comes at a wonderful time in the history of the world. The planning team did an impeccable job, I must say. The world is in deep shit. People need consolation. People want to hear that the world will be better again. They can go gorge on ridiculous amounts of cheese, steaks and Mchumanity without any consequence. And lo and behold... the ad delivers exactly that. However i have this urge to rip apart this charade of idiotic optimism which is nothing short of criminal. its perpetuating exactly the same mindset that
Read more

Why I repair my shoe

I have 3 shoes. One formal, One sport shoe and another a mix of the two. The last one is particularly awesome, cause of its uniqueness. It looks like a formal shoe, but is as comfortable and flexible as a sport shoe. I bought it for my first job in Mumbai. I was newly rich and was expected to behave like one. I found this gem of pure black leather in a Colaba Causeway showroom. Quite a find. But its been almost two years now and the shoe shows its age. For all its awesomeness, its quite a weak shoe, to give out so early. I have stitched it, got new laces, and strengthened its sole. It doesn't look shiny anymore cause the leather has suffered from a few hostile trespasses. I think, like a man, things too should be allowed to carry their scars. Shiny scar-less men are just so... irrelevant.  Since childhood, I have been used to using things for long times. Clothes, equipments, shoes etc. I can't just throw things away cause they don't look as good anymore or they don't
Read more

the god is a waiter.

life escapes if you run after it. our destiny is nothing but to wait. a lesson fell through after having lived a quarter century worth of life. a quarter century. feels like a lot, when u say that. but doesn't really when i ask myself. a quarter century spent without any respect or regard to act of waiting. always, kicked it out of the way. or if the wait became far too imposing to avoid, i would recede back into a cocoon made of some other time and space. but even escapes become boring. waiting caught up with me. there is no escaping it. i await. i think, god is a waiter after all. he waits upon us to serve us life lessons. he waits until we appreciate the act of waiting. he holds our life until we calm down from our frenzy. and then hands the reins back to us when we can handle it, that is when the mirage of control is lifted and calm consumes you. i now understand, so to say, why have i had this desire to work as a waiter since quite a few years. it was freedom i thought earlier
Read more