Wings of thoughts

Thoughts fluttering inside me head
In random yet candid circles
One no different from the other
Voices calling from a life left behind
Begging me not to forget
But to let go of those strings
Free those kites
Let them take to the skies of the future
I will have to watch them go
As much as the tears that wish to fall I stand tall
For letting go isn't as easy as it seems
"Let go" two words
That sever the physical bonds
And secure the emotional ones
Despite this feeling of loss I find solace
In the truth
That I am no longer alone
Not a ship sailing foreign waters
But one with an anchor
Docked at a port named 'security'.

When dreams come Undone

Twenty-fifth year of my existence
A quarter of a journey
Migrating into a memory studded past
How did these years just fly by?
What have they left behind?
In so gradual a spate
A wounded spirit to loneliness
Champion to a cause riddled with confusion
Eyes yearning for something
That a heart is yet to find
A sense of peace or
A sliver of contentment
Where do starry-eyed dreams go?
When they are shrouded by grey-white visions
Of a life in a land anew
Happy but unpredictable
Laying patterns on the ground
Different from images envisioned
In a dream of a splendid future
I gather in my heart
The answers lie in the turn of the season
Which is but a spring step away.

Someday....7/25/01

Moments winged by sadness
Clutching the heart in a grip
So vice like that it scares me
That this heady wave of emotion
will drag me away
And hurtle me into a dark pool
From whence only the valiant return
Can it be helped?
Feeling as melancholic as i do now
Using one tissue at a time
Each one soggier than the other
Listening to the slow hum of the ceiling fan
Wondering why?
Why is it i torture myself so?
With expectations galore
Hoping that my marbles would
Actually walk
Or the pigs in my dreams take to the skies
Wishful thinking
Laced with a pocket full of aspirations
One day in a distant future
I shall find the peace i so fervently seek.

The Cathartic Phoenix has risen.....

All it takes is a succession of earth shattering, hard hitting events to rock my boat sending me into choppy waters of inspiration and expression. But it really took something as big as this and one that went down this close to what i call home and comfort to truly unlock words that had been yearning to find themselves scrawled over a plain white canvass. Once the words found their way out of my gray matter it was only a matter of time feelings would follow and colour the proceedings. The last two blog entries i've written are a mile apart in their style and content. But like i'd fervently hoped when i had started this blog last month , given it a form and aptly given it the title 'The Way We Are' that i grow with each entry. That is exactly what i feel i've started to accomplish. Whats' helped me in this endeavour has been the support and encouragement of friends old and new who continue to be a constant source of both. Every word and comment helps me inch closer to realising myself as a person and re-establishing the practice to further my skill. I can conclude this post by saying what i feel every morning that i wae up thankful to be alive 'Every Day is a New Tomorrow....'

Ramblings of a furitive kind.....

A flash of light blinding the irises and then the slow deafening roar of voices raised in the joy of merrymaking. I feel myself disconnecting from these voices that seemed to broach conversations i abhorred as a teenager. Like something out of a surrealistic music video reminiscent of an Andy Warhol a blurry, multicoloured vision dances before my eyes, one that i can only see from the corner of my mind. The people before me in the party 'fade to grey' turning into these blobs of human flesh. I want to tear out these chains of superficiality and emerge out of this mire of complacency. Plain and simple, 'Bartender i need a bloody damn drink and make it straight up without the rocks and it better be good!"
There are times when all you want to do is get pissed drunk on whatever pretty poison that suits your current fancy and just stick it to whoever happens to cross your path at that inopportune moment. quite frankly i remember a time in my life when such super-confident bravado was a part of my psyche. A time when feelings did not have to live under a lock and key. How liberating were those days as a young adult you had no one to answer to or be truthful to but yourself. It was in those fleeting moments i felt like the 'king of the world' where my words of expression gave fruit to art that only a few understood.
The difference from then and now is a thin line drawn by none other than myself dividing the personna i was to the projection that stands right before you right this minute. I hoping as this blog progresses in its intensity and complexity I succeed in bringing back my lost glory.

My Outrage....

First of all it sucks being so far away and unable to be of any support when the city i love so dearly is under such a heavy threat of fear. The day for me began pretty normally. i just went about my business running after my kid and cleaning house. a simple phone call home brought my idyllic existence crashing down to reality. "Have you turned on the news?" asked my sister. I told her no because as a practice i never did turn on the news since 9/11 happened. Even then i had a friend tell me to do just that in the midst of a yahoo chat that fateful morning. And when i did just that yesterday there was no mention of the horrifying events that were going to scar my mind forever. Instead every cable news channel was either giving updates on 'thanksgiving travel' or worrying about retail and the stock market. I felt my blood pressure rising at the insignificance of those news reports while at that very moment a posse of terrorists had landed seige on my beloved city.
I managed to find a 24/7 live feed on ndtv.com that was convering the events. My four year old son seemed to sense my upset because he began behaving like an absolute monster and i had to play bad mommy for awhile giving him a time-out. Then i was glued to both the laptop simultaneously checking out the news updates on the situation, frantically checking up on my facebook page for news from ground zero and finally trying to get as many of my friends on their cellphones. Thank goodness for latest technology, i received messages via facebook and emails that everyone was safe, including one friend who was actually in a location close to where all the ruckus was taking place.
But its still those images of watching my favourite landmark haunts being destroyed and people trapped inside those guilded cages that make the tears well and choke inside of me.
Do these cowards actually think they're going to gain anything by terrorizing Indians and Mumbai-ites to be more precise?
And what about those so called 'Hindutvas' posers doing when all this is going down? All they know is to take arms for no rhyme or reason and start rioting at a drop of a hat. How did these insurgents get past them and pull this whole orchestrated act right under their brain dead noses? Whats to guarantee that they just wait for the embers of this event to disintegrate before they pull some more stunts that'll only make life hell for a normal perso who is just out to make a living?
The true healing will begin soon for the 'city that never sleeps' as it rises from the ashes of this act of terror like a phoenix. Only this time i hope and pray this bird of flight learns from such experiences to fight right back.

Wannabe Diaries.....Ep.1( Complete Fiction and out of my imagination)

Dear Diary,
Before i divulge any of the details of my present predicament I shall take a trip down memory lane and tap my roots to get to the heart of the matter. A new pop song by the outrageous PussyCat Dolls comes to mind when want to encompass how i knew i was a true 'wannabe'.'When i grow up I wanna be famous and i wanna have b***bies'. Sad we didn't have such awesome singers back when i was 14 to basically popularize what i was feeling so fervently when i actually realized that i liked people staring at me with adulation. But hey we did have Cyndi Lauper who told us girls just to go have fun!
So basically i would do anything for a bit of attention. I realised the easiest way to do that and not get into too much trouble in a school which had us dress up i uniform would be to target boys just for an ounce of popularity. I was'nt exactly something of a teen pin-up with my figure towards the rotund yet curvy side. But i had something that i overheard some older girls talk about in the bathroom and decided that would be my secret weapon to get some attention in this boring ghost town of a school. So the next day after assembly when we checked to make sure we dressed in the proper way i made a mad dash to the girls bathroom. Once in the safety of my stall i changed into a very beige coloured bra that was pretty obvious under my white shirt. There u go little bit of imagination would take u a long, i'd heard one of the seniors snigger rather loudly that other day. And I'd know just how much longer in the next hour. I walked into the classroom clasping my backpack over my chest and rushed to my designated seat. The minute i threw the heavy load on the ground with a thud i knew something was up in the room. I sat down gingerly on my seat thinking this was it! Multiple pairs of eyes, boys and girls were staring at my rack! Yay finally some attention! And boy ,was it easy after that. I pulled it off rather sucessfully at lunchtime, where all i had to do was prance around a little dramatically. i had at least 3 boys wanting to share my lunch so they could get a glimpse of my heavenly gifts. There, a monster had been created.....
So Diary, i think 'this is going to be a beginning of a beautiful friendship......'

wannabe diaries....

Dear Diary,

Where do i start my story? How do i just pick up a finger and let this page be the canvass for a life i have no control of anymore? Would I be deemed totally dumbass for actually coming out clean on how one event has just snowballed into an avalanche of emotions and aspirations that seem to get me know where? Will i be reprimanded by others of my kind for exposing their discreet existence and their secret lives? I guess i have to start somewhere and the best place would be to go right to where it all began and let the rest be history! So Diary say hello to me, Miss Wannabe......
XXXXX

Jagged Edge.....'A Review of Alanis Morissette's 'Jagged Little Pill'

Alanis Morissette is probably one of the foremost female music artists to create so strong a wave in the mid-90's that its effects are felt even today. Her turbulent yet though provoking album 'Jagged Little Pill' is the epitome of post-modern angst expressed in musical terms. She conveys intense emotions that complex her and in the process echoes feelings that are shared by many women but never revealed in the open.
From a self-made Canadian pop-diva that she was in the eighties she radically transformed herself into a confessional singer/songwriter full of zealous alternative energy. Her style paved the way for the emerging wave of women artists (Jewel, Joan Osborne, Shawn Colvin, Shirley Manson from 'Garbage', Meredith Brooks, Fiona Apple, etc).The very first song on the album 'All I Really Want' sets the tone for the other tracks that follow. But nothing can formally prepare you for the onslaught that can shake your very foundations.The raw, blatant, volcanic brutality in 'You Oughta know' just knocks you off your socks. I don't think I've ever heard so frank a retort against an unfaithful partner like this one. 'And I'm here to remind you / Of the mess you left when you went away….'
'Perfect' encompasses the pressure a child experiences. It seems very common an issue to write and sing about but its the sheer pathos in Morissette's lament that is to be reckoned with. However there is common myth that 'Jagged little Pill' is an album dedicated to the pursuit of pent up rage and pressurized anger. Anger isn't the only sentiment to be given articulation here. There is a strain of complacency in the sedate 'Hand in my Pocket'. This song somehow gets you as the listener in touch with words that cross your mind time and again but never materialize at the tip of your tongue. In an indirect way this song actually celebrates the joy of being alive in this cruel, harsh world.
'Right Through You' is similar to 'You Oughta Know' in tone but it differs in the execution and the depth of lyrical outburst.
'Forgiven' is a confession dripping with gradual realization of truths that are often buried as a result of social and domestic conditioning. 'You Learn' kicks off the rest of the journey into self-discovery in the form of a shared philosophy discussed before but never in such casual depth in musical terms. 'You live you learn / You love you learn…'
The penultimate post grunge modern nineties love song is 'Head Over Feet'. It sure beats the saccharine sweet, cliched, contrived puppy love laced attributes of other pop lovesongs.'Mary Jane' is a dedication to any woman who has faced a common case of low self-esteem.
'It's a black fly in your Chardonnay / A death row pardon two minutes too late / Isn't it ironic…. don't you think?' These are the initial lines of the chart topper 'Ironic' that get you in touch with the paradoxical truth of little nuances in life.
The last two tracks 'Not The Doctor' and 'Wake Up' are on a more cathartic plain where Alanis finds herself getting rid of the complexities that plague her worldly existence. They round up the album in a rather nonchalant manner.It is not often that we come across a brand of music that lays bare thoughts as flagrantly as this one. Her outburst is more than a lashing out at an imaginary enemy. It is a layered metaphor on the causality that our decadent survival is based upon.Listening to this remarkable piece of work will surely put together into context an array of random thoughts. A breakthrough album from a daring, modern, young singer/songwriter.

A Haiku on winter!

Snowy days give way to gloom
only when the white melts away
leaving a gravelly mass of slush
much to a driver's dismay.