I lay snuggled in my thoughts
You deep in your lies
We traded places
We were jaded with our roles
Lies and liars
Tires the soul
A hole is dug
Deeper and deeper
Lies sink and liars rise
Players we become
Each with a facade
A mask of hypocrisy
The phantom sings and the opera claps
The chorus melts and silence sells
Oh! You are a liar and you lie for me
I am no truth seeker nor no soothsayer
I am your demon driving you to hell
You are my knell the ringing bell
You sing my elegy and I yours
We battle to death
Seeking silence till hell
Oh my handsome liar
You set me on fire
Liar dear liar
You fuel my desire
I will sing with the lyre
You playing the liar
Both our eyes
Lies and liars
Cheaters oh cheaters
Your soul is sore and mine dark
Coffee shall we?
Black did you say?
Milk the coffee
And cover the lies
Liars we remain
Smiling demons
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Nothing in Particular
Warms rays of the sun filters into my room illuminating my den with happiness, why is it that when the sun shines it brings a warm smile on my face? Not that I don't like the rain, I do and its fascinating how the tiny drizzles feel when they drop onto your cheeks and flow into the drains washing, cleaning and cleansing. I quite like the feel of my slightly wet hair and as I shake my head the tiny droplets drizzle, how fascinating is water, the magic of life. I have always thought and often questioned when I pick up a bottle of water and shake it, it makes that sound of water rushing and gushing and colliding, if someone did that to me shouldn't I be be making the same sound after all even I am made up of water (mostly), red water.
Back to the sun, it is on a run and in England at a pace that you can catch only glimpses into its warmth and that is exactly what makes it so special, its absence makes its presence felt. Even the skies are blue today, reminds me of the Himalayan November blues when autumn sets and winter is just around the corner waiting for its turn to take the stage of seasons and for all its beautiful reasons.
Oh! the sun is back, I am smiling again and what I love best is to just stare right into its heart and close my eyes, its what I call the "sun hug" and its better than any bear hug in the world, nothing to make you feel more loved and the heat, oh boy, that is hot! Even when I close my eyes, it is just so bright, lights exploding into brightness amplified, colours mixing into hues unknown to despcription and I sit closing, blinking and opening my eyes just to type that feel. I do badly, infact terribly, its just that of late I have been reading Kerouac again, sometimes I feel like I am dating him and his prose is poetic and the roses of words I get from him, make me feel like he is there to teach and I must close my eyes, open my heart and let the words run right out. It is magic, like I have this special wand that scribbles and describes all that is invisibly visible, like I am conjuring a reality unknown to many, seen by all and felt by most but described very seldom with words. Well, that I believe is the argument of any writer who says my ideas are fresh and they have never been written before. Truth is it has been and we are all the same, well atleast the species that uses facebook and the Internet, now an ant storing food in Africa wouldn't know what I am talking about!
Often I get asked why I am into conservation, I usually jumble mumble a few lines, garnish with my favourite smiles and shrug the topic like I just pretentiously dusted it off. Truth is, I am in love with life, for myself and for all the beings that live around, struggle to survive everyday and die eventually and their off springs carry forth the gene. I admire Darwin, he I beleive even raised his kids keeping in mind that we are animals just like the chimps our closest relatives, he displaced the Bible and suddenly evolution became the new one. But leaving theories aside, it does become quite difficult to let go of the idea of devine human creation, the thought that I am a child of an atom, of evolution and I am evolving every day, so will my lineage down the line be born with facebook addictness gene? No idea, could be possible, couldn't it? They will definitely have some crazy ideas and well a good typing speed!
I am just talking gibberish, if you even lasted till this paragraph to read it, this is a poem for you and me
A cry and we born
A sigh and we are gone
Funny isn't it?
Laugh if you agree but do not weep if you don't
think I am crazy but you are even too lazy to think!
Next time you see a spider do not run
you could just be high on cider
do not kill
just watch it walk and weave its web
when you see a cockroach (esp to girls) do not scream!
would you like if a cockroach was screaming at you?
That would be demeaning!
But oh! do smile at the sun,
its a sign of being healthy and happy! :)
Back to the sun, it is on a run and in England at a pace that you can catch only glimpses into its warmth and that is exactly what makes it so special, its absence makes its presence felt. Even the skies are blue today, reminds me of the Himalayan November blues when autumn sets and winter is just around the corner waiting for its turn to take the stage of seasons and for all its beautiful reasons.
Oh! the sun is back, I am smiling again and what I love best is to just stare right into its heart and close my eyes, its what I call the "sun hug" and its better than any bear hug in the world, nothing to make you feel more loved and the heat, oh boy, that is hot! Even when I close my eyes, it is just so bright, lights exploding into brightness amplified, colours mixing into hues unknown to despcription and I sit closing, blinking and opening my eyes just to type that feel. I do badly, infact terribly, its just that of late I have been reading Kerouac again, sometimes I feel like I am dating him and his prose is poetic and the roses of words I get from him, make me feel like he is there to teach and I must close my eyes, open my heart and let the words run right out. It is magic, like I have this special wand that scribbles and describes all that is invisibly visible, like I am conjuring a reality unknown to many, seen by all and felt by most but described very seldom with words. Well, that I believe is the argument of any writer who says my ideas are fresh and they have never been written before. Truth is it has been and we are all the same, well atleast the species that uses facebook and the Internet, now an ant storing food in Africa wouldn't know what I am talking about!
Often I get asked why I am into conservation, I usually jumble mumble a few lines, garnish with my favourite smiles and shrug the topic like I just pretentiously dusted it off. Truth is, I am in love with life, for myself and for all the beings that live around, struggle to survive everyday and die eventually and their off springs carry forth the gene. I admire Darwin, he I beleive even raised his kids keeping in mind that we are animals just like the chimps our closest relatives, he displaced the Bible and suddenly evolution became the new one. But leaving theories aside, it does become quite difficult to let go of the idea of devine human creation, the thought that I am a child of an atom, of evolution and I am evolving every day, so will my lineage down the line be born with facebook addictness gene? No idea, could be possible, couldn't it? They will definitely have some crazy ideas and well a good typing speed!
I am just talking gibberish, if you even lasted till this paragraph to read it, this is a poem for you and me
A cry and we born
A sigh and we are gone
Funny isn't it?
Laugh if you agree but do not weep if you don't
think I am crazy but you are even too lazy to think!
Next time you see a spider do not run
you could just be high on cider
do not kill
just watch it walk and weave its web
when you see a cockroach (esp to girls) do not scream!
would you like if a cockroach was screaming at you?
That would be demeaning!
But oh! do smile at the sun,
its a sign of being healthy and happy! :)
Wrapped in Silence
She is completely wrapped
in silence
It braces her in a tight hug
almost throwing her off the rug
She can see silence
like it has a tape on its mouth
She tries to run but she is wrapped
and trapped
So she befriends silence
Charming as a gentleman
he leads her to the floor
silently whispers in her ears
dances till the door
and says, would you care to be with me some more?
She is trapped she knows
perfectly wrapped she feels
but willingly
So she dances till June
under the moon
She shuns the world
and kills her voice
till she is one
with him
In silence
they hold hands
and they both glance
a last glance
to leave
and live
on the moon
silently.
in silence
It braces her in a tight hug
almost throwing her off the rug
She can see silence
like it has a tape on its mouth
She tries to run but she is wrapped
and trapped
So she befriends silence
Charming as a gentleman
he leads her to the floor
silently whispers in her ears
dances till the door
and says, would you care to be with me some more?
She is trapped she knows
perfectly wrapped she feels
but willingly
So she dances till June
under the moon
She shuns the world
and kills her voice
till she is one
with him
In silence
they hold hands
and they both glance
a last glance
to leave
and live
on the moon
silently.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
London eYe
A mad night of sitting next to the Thames, watching it swiftly and quite silently flow in a direction none of us could figure out but nor did it matter. The bright red light of the eye casting blood shot rays on the dark night, black clouds with stars guarding them from behind, yellow hues from the street lights fading into the blink of my drunken eyes, dawn was yawning in the corner and all I can remember is murmurs from conversations, laughter echoing with gulps of whisky and vodka. Celebrations galore and why not, not everyday eight Bhutanese gather by the Thames,we are just about a score in the whole of UK! It was the night of the Bhutan Society dinner, black tie, wining and dining, lords and ladies, friends of Bhutan toasting to the Kingdom we all love. HRH Dasho Jigyel in his black brocade gho shining princely indeed graced the annual dinner. The travellers club the venue, very posh and very British.
After the formal event, the informal gathering was the Bhutanese night out. As we entered a buzzing pool pub to drink few pints of lager what better music to greet us than the same ones they play in Space 34! Everything closes at 12 and we hit a club to grab some more cider and my body took the toll of mixing drinks and everything after that is quite a blur, but even with blurred images and slurred speeches, my memory can decently fish out these details.
It is the bond, the bond we share coming from a common land that even strangers becomes friends in just few minutes or hours. It is a bond the mountains have ingrained in us to love, laugh, enjoy and be happy. It is the common talk, tit bits of home and news, old nostalgic school day stories, funny anecdotes and what we struggle with everyday to live in this ridiculously expensive country. Some one takes a swing and downs the vodka, I am not drinking, I was already quite there but I was multitasking, listening to conservations, watching the moment slip and pass as dawn was yawning like I said and soon it was all of us. These are moments, cherishable ones, special ones, fostering the Bhutanese bond away in distant lands. I will be candid, there are times that I love the anonymity living in a foreign land that hardly is true back home but there are times where a gentle pat on your shoulder from someone from homes makes all the difference, to lift you out from a depressing day and make your spirits soar, to give you that little push when you had almost stopped.
I mention not your names but we all know that we were there with the eYe, and why we were there that we need to ask Mr. S., he was hell bent on getting us there and am glad he did. I write this before it becomes another blur and fades into the dark red night, where the eYe stood still soaked in blood and drunk with happiness, where a bunch squattering on a cold stone bench lay twittering like birds till early morn and all that the passerby would have heard were fits of laughter, if only they knew the story.
Oh! and there was this little birthday girl who celebrated hers with people from home but who she had never met. I can only imagine how that must feel like, I bet it was wonderful.
We need to do this again!
The next day, all facebook statuses complained, as quite expected, "hungover!"
Thank you all for the lovely time, I really hope we do this again.
After the formal event, the informal gathering was the Bhutanese night out. As we entered a buzzing pool pub to drink few pints of lager what better music to greet us than the same ones they play in Space 34! Everything closes at 12 and we hit a club to grab some more cider and my body took the toll of mixing drinks and everything after that is quite a blur, but even with blurred images and slurred speeches, my memory can decently fish out these details.
It is the bond, the bond we share coming from a common land that even strangers becomes friends in just few minutes or hours. It is a bond the mountains have ingrained in us to love, laugh, enjoy and be happy. It is the common talk, tit bits of home and news, old nostalgic school day stories, funny anecdotes and what we struggle with everyday to live in this ridiculously expensive country. Some one takes a swing and downs the vodka, I am not drinking, I was already quite there but I was multitasking, listening to conservations, watching the moment slip and pass as dawn was yawning like I said and soon it was all of us. These are moments, cherishable ones, special ones, fostering the Bhutanese bond away in distant lands. I will be candid, there are times that I love the anonymity living in a foreign land that hardly is true back home but there are times where a gentle pat on your shoulder from someone from homes makes all the difference, to lift you out from a depressing day and make your spirits soar, to give you that little push when you had almost stopped.
I mention not your names but we all know that we were there with the eYe, and why we were there that we need to ask Mr. S., he was hell bent on getting us there and am glad he did. I write this before it becomes another blur and fades into the dark red night, where the eYe stood still soaked in blood and drunk with happiness, where a bunch squattering on a cold stone bench lay twittering like birds till early morn and all that the passerby would have heard were fits of laughter, if only they knew the story.
Oh! and there was this little birthday girl who celebrated hers with people from home but who she had never met. I can only imagine how that must feel like, I bet it was wonderful.
We need to do this again!
The next day, all facebook statuses complained, as quite expected, "hungover!"
Thank you all for the lovely time, I really hope we do this again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)