Morning Dew...

You come to me as the night blossoms into a diamond beauty, and you take my hands in your hands and tell me that the moon looks beautiful in my eyes today, not so forlorn after all. You smile at me and the rhythm of knots in my stomach drowns even the melody the waves create. You brush my shoulders and the night shivers. Your hands sink into my hair and the moon blushes and hides behind the clouds. Wrapped in the folds of the night we sink into the soft cool sand and unlock the secrets the night hides from us. In your arms, I find my world.

But as the night fog lifts, you disappear as mysteriously as you came. And I am left to wonder if you were perhaps just a dream.

She Will Be Loved...

Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else

I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I’ve had you so many times but somehow
I want more

I don’t mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved

Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get insecure
It doesn’t matter anymore

It’s not always rainbows and butterflies
It’s compromise that moves us along
My heart is full and my door’s always open
You can come anytime you want

I don’t mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved

I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls

A Life Called Grace...

"We cannot transform our lives, unless we allow them to be transformed by that stroke of grace. It happens; or it does not happen. And certainly it does not happen if we try to force it upon ourselves, just as it shall not happen so long as we think, in our self-complacency, that we have no need of it.  

Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage.

Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: "You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!" If that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral or intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance."

From The Shaking of the Foundations by Paul Tillich

Waterbirds...

Still dreaming of the thicketed field
Salty marsh fed by the tidal stream
Look down the flush
Sleeping deep in the brush
The night brings the hush
I can hear the current
Hidden by the knees of the cyprus trees
The insects chirping underneath the leaves
When you kiss me, you really kiss me
Tell me how can you resist me
Did we ever reveal?
This is all that we need
Did we ever reveal?
This is all that we need

Dogfight...

Life, you are cruel. You toss me left and right and you call it my destiny. You take away things I hold dear, and you ask me to lose my fears. You take my loved ones, and you ask me to let go. You shatter my dreams and tell me to start again. You laugh at me and ask me to wipe my tears. You ask me to give in to my destiny, meekly. But you forgot what you made me. You made me a rebel. Have I ever done what you wanted me to do? Have I ever done what they wanted me to do? You take everything from me but you can't take this fight from me. So yea, I'll humour you this time too. I'll fight for what's mine. You take away my dreams and I'll take them back from you.

*****
The hardest thing in life is forgetting what you were, what you once had, how you once felt.

And starting again. With a new you.

After all, a new war requires a new strategy.

An Ode...

You might not be with me now, but I am not without you. I am always carrying you all with me. I am made up of all those I loved and all those who loved me-friends. The part of me that thinks twice before speaking now, that part belongs to you. The part of me that reminds me to try harder every time I hit a low, that belongs to you. The one that makes me yearn for love, ever-lasting happy love, that belongs to you. The part that makes me feel good about myself, that belongs to you. The part of me that's strong and confident, that belongs to you. The part of me that reminds me to be silly, that belongs to you. The one that makes me want to be my best, that belongs to you. The part of me that loves, that too, belongs to you. The part of me that's fun, that belong to you. The part of me that has learned to compromise, sacrifice, be unselfish, that belongs to you.


I am made up of all these you's, people who have come into my life, loved me and given me something I will always cherish:Friendship.They've become a part of me. And the best parts of me, they belong to them-Friends.

A Lost World...

I remember I must have been in the 6th grade and I was visiting my cousin brother, who was practising for that evening's concert. And like always, he sang for me and asked me how I liked it. Ofcourse, back then I never understood classical music (I don't understand it even now). I was more into the English boy-bands like all girls my age. But I liked listening to him, he did sing well. And I remember he paused after a stanza, smiled at me and told me, "When you hear classical Hindustani music, you move your head, you close your eyes and unbeknownst to you, your head sways. When you hear English music, you tap your feet." Do you see the difference? Classical music deserved the crown, while English pop music's place was at your feet.



And it's really sad that, we(today's generation) have neither the appreciation nor respect for our own music. And what music it is! If you see the stats for Pandit Bhimsen Joshi's Bangari Mori, you'll see it's popular with 34-64 year old males. That's bad now, isn't it? No 21 year old boys? No 26 year old girls? I feel it's left to us, our generation, to keep our music alive, to take it forward. To keep it alive by listening to it. But none of us have even heard of these maestros. And worse still, we don't have any inclination to listen to them. We instead listen to Justin Beibers and Lady Gaga( I am guilty of the same, not Beiber though!).

I wonder if our children will ever know of these maestros. I wonder if they'll ever hear Hindustani classical  music. I hope they do. And unlike us, I hope, they learn to appreciate it.