Days, there were

There were days, when I lived life chaotic and hurried. Quite contrast with the peaceful bliss

There were days, when I flew with every new bird. Quite contrast with the withdrawn persona

There were days, when I listened on, dusk until dawn. Quite contrast with the deaf ear

There were days, when I managed to stop, wait. Quite contrast with the journey I ride on

There were days, when I dreamt and only talked of. Quite contrast with that I now work on.

Finally..

Phew, It really has been long.

The last time I set out to pen anything apart from work seems like eons ago. Much has happened during this intervening period in this world over, apart from in the life of the guy writing this.

It has been not a sabbatical. It has been a time of just about busy and just about lazy. That describes the activity that is currently happening in life. If it were about three years ago, I would have become insane with such a practise. I am not sure if this qualifies as a change, but I have come to love a life where an activity is either fun or meaningful, but not for the sake of one or others. I have led life in a manner earlier, which I would not have, or should not have. And any such manner is archaic this day.

Companion

Spending an evening in the company of those I know
I realize the loner I have been in life these days
With all the guys, at work and after work, around

I feel the need for someone, to get rid of the feeling
Someone who would not bring me a burden afresh
With nomenclature for the company I will have
And hence, I call that someone a companion.

A companion who would feel the same need as I do
And hence would appreciate how it would be

I sleep alone in this couch longing for her
Who hasn’t turned up, yet does exist
I am not in love nor am I waiting to be
All that I yearn for this day would be
Pure passionate emotional companionship
That would last this night and live the day later

This couch is too crammed for me to turn around
But seems spacious if I were to have a companion
Who would be in my arms in this space so small yet not
It is nothing purely carnal, though it puts in its part
But is more of the sense of companionship it would be

Wonder, I.

I have moved on and yet I look back.

Wonder if I could travel back in time,
time, when you made my life colorful.

Wonder if I could regain those colors,
Colors that painted my life happy.

Wonder if I could make life even happier,
Happier the way it was with you around.

Wonder if I could have you in my life again,
You, whom I called the sunshine of my life.

I look back and yet I have moved on.

Wonder if I would love any again,
Love, for it seems not trustworthy.

Wonder if I would trust any again,
Trust, for it seems a paradox.

Wonder if I would emote yet again,
Emote, for all of it drained out,
the day you quit.

Expectation, Frustration, and Pain

One’s pain is as good as the expectations are. Frustration seems to creep in, when people act different from what you expect them to.

Why is it that we meet thousands and barely few turn close associates / friends and the rest are never in the same league? There might be several reasons and none. It might be attitudes, thoughts, or chemistry as one would want to name it. Call it whatever, some thing drives us to choose few and call them special, who at times turn friends.

This is where it all begins. A promotion as a friend inadvertently raises expectations. There cannot be a bigger sin, for all the patience that we put up with a stranger vanishes with someone close. With them we would rather show our frustration than try reason it. We get frustrated easily with those whom we term close rather than the others. It might be the sense of belongingness, which lets vent frustrations. However, does this seem a reason enough? Why be frustrated with those who are special?

This is where it all ends. It might seem natural to expect them to be what you want them to be. How convenient is it to forget that we do not attempt to be what they want us to be?

February, 2006.