Signed in as:
filler@godaddy.com
Sparkle and sprinkle!
The sun was shining in another part of the world. And the wait for it to arrive on this side was the same for everybody. So, I sit in a train. Why? So, I can reach the place of worship on time, to say, before sunrise. I move and, move towards the east.
It was all the light I couldn’t have at the time on the day. It was a Wednesday, and it was snowing but the moon, little to contribute made the evening colder. And, it was cold for sure.
I realize that the sun was sharing all its affection, even in its absence in this part of the world, making it a fact that is quite incredulous! Why else, with all the support from the sun, to understand, will the earth’s moon shine and project an illumination and make the night glow in its presence? (The moon absorbs and reflects the sun’s radiation)
I start to drift with lack of understanding! Drifting in a life is not A-OK, so they say! Unless your bag of life is in abundance of ticking seconds and minutes. But the phenomenon I learnt from my various beginnings and a few unfortunate culminations is that we never are at a loss of experience. We gain and keep gaining experience. It never ever stops. And to mention, drifting is also sort of an experience making it part of a journey.
Now, I also promote the idea that I sparkle and sprinkle my life lessons everywhere through experience. Sometimes, it becomes stardust and floats around to reach a place of worship on its own. Sometimes, life lessons that I keep abreast in my head as I travel with less loss of information, are with me and reach, again, a place of worship through me.
And when the sun rises, the dust appears brighter and shines better. Further, when the sun shines, I feel the warmth, coming out of a cold night.
Whatever be the mode of travel, whether it be an antique carriage or an initialization of a self-driven motor vehicle, just a reference to a transportation makes me wild and want the proof in dust even more. So, I move and make a move eagerly towards the east. Why? To spread all my affection at a place of worship in a chronicled manner. There it is, the lack of sentiment towards the sparkle and sprinkle of elemental dust, along the way, may not be taken too kindly. Funnily, I agree to it.
Don't get me wrong! A state of appeal with a congratulatory note is definetely a starting place and is well accepted! I eagerly await a response in a better channel as a connection is established with the sun but it still makes me wait through out the night for the sunshine in this part of the world. And, the wait sometimes is just too long.
Having said that, belief is a way of life and I believe that a connection to life is not pre-established but is a continued effort made to further enhance the arrival and departure of considering a minute element of life - to all the people resting when I am expressing this opinion in another part of the world - Kudos - Job well done! Rest is important. But, when you wake up, give some credit to the people on this part of the world highlighting all the ensuing remembrances. We are on par with every insight that is communicated as part of the exhaustive rehearsals and also deliver when needed at the most important time.
Sparkle and sprinkle knowledge! Sparkle and sprinkle affection. Long live the planet Earth.
"A desire"
The re-utilization of an event that occurred in the past,
Where spot on, a re-iteration of a call was in a loop,
To eliminate the chase again and me not to stoop,
For a trade of mental peace tacitly in a period to last.
I remember the day to be quite normal,
As there was no need for us to be formal.
Most factors were working our way,
Unlike the others who were ready to pay.
The price one settles with, for a decent life,
Comes with consideration of a lot of strife,
And given, I insist on having a bit of peace,
There should be harmony, and we be at ease.
How life changes over reading a notification,
When we took measures to avoid an altercation,
And with amends made to alleviate the situation,
We reward ourselves with presence of appreciation.
As one puts it “I am in the loop”, forever long ago,
After misaligning with the call, a few times to go,
I realized “how quickly tables turn”, and for a purpose,
While I say this passionately to avoid a reason to dispose.
Say however much you want – “Yes, No, or May be”,
The closing of the period was imperfect for the times.
But I must give you credit for all that you have forsaken,
By that, you and me, like a few others, can’t be unforgiven.
It took me a course of a decade or more to break the shell,
To re-ignite a spark or a ray of hope – not to misspell –
In my life, again, the reason being “You”,
And the right occasion, definitely being not out of the blue.
I don’t consider it to be case of misfortune,
Or, in me, an inefficiency or being inopportune.
I thought with you in sight, leading and setting a pace,
A time will come to rekindle the moment from the phase.
The time is set, and I am making an obvious effort,
To reconnect with the times lost and may be fortify,
An era gone by in remembering you for comfort,
And placed into a capsule swallowed, so that we can fructify.
One aspect of it all can be made obsolete,
Of words in lost worlds and its people replete.
I say this with highest respect for you in dignity,
That is consistent with calling it your “Integrity”.
Whatever happened, gave me unimaginable times,
With a multitude of cases of bitterness and struggle.
You know I followed a route to the heart that chimes,
Like a bell, when sang as a wiggle, jiggle, and I giggle.
To convince you, will be beyond me, when you mistrust!
It will be no longer a worry of “Who did what!”,
I must engage with you like a pie to its crust,
And ‘You’ becoming my oversized brainy ‘Hat’.
I will wear it like a ‘Crown’, and I see it no less,
With all the devotion and merrily I guess -
The experience with you, in taste of my jocularity,
I cherish memories and subject them to muscularity.
A simple exercise of “What is to be learnt”,
Brings me closer to every occasion I ignore,
And while I sleep, I remembered I don’t snore,
Now that it is an expense that I just had spent!
You may have a feeling that I am digressing from a topic,
I can write about a great lot of positive aspects,
And of the efforts, in endurance and struggles of subjects,
Which will make me a devil attending with a casual stick!
Come morning, you will read this for sure,
And I am hoping there is no change in your reflection,
We must maintain status quo, and I ensure,
An accordance of a sign with “No interruption”.
There comes no need for a matter of compromise.
Yes, highs and lows reveal the strength of a promise,
And re-iterating the call of being in the past “in the loop” –
We could be Spaghetti, Chopsuey or Dangling Noodles!
I should probably point to another concern if I may –
It is that you are amid a ride of a roller coaster!
The speed conveniently thrills if you say –
“Excuse moi! Don’t flare up like burnt bread out of a toaster!”
Life is kicking into existence with a fanciful side,
Of glory in dreams, its estimations and approximations,
But for me, as an opportunity to engineer absolutions -
Makes me wonder about discredit I mustn’t take as a downside.
Exciting times lay ahead, as they call these times wondrous,
And the days among them, not just today are glorious.
I have been meaning to address a lot of my misgivings,
About what exactly happened without guilt in my innings.
I perennially acknowledged your method of time in lending –
I still deeply feel a meeting of ours is pending,
And questions were asked about the preparation for the same,
To set matters fair and square and discard becoming lame.
To alleviate the issue, I must tell you a joke –
A homeless person asked me on a street “What are you looking at?”
To which for great reason “Your situation” I said to poke
And he replied “With that dirty look? Where did you get it?”
A classic reply was as I said that “I was born with it”.
Now, I don’t feel embarrassed because of his silence,
As an aftermath, but I learnt from it in dissidence,
And it relates with a memory of mine with you as endeared,
When you appreciated my loss of words as imagined,
With a simple expression of being impressed,
Even on that occasion with pettiness of mine,
For what I had worked and achieved –
That which didn’t mean much in this world of being fine.
This is not a subject of sympathy delivered,
And in fact, it is what you are crowned for making me
Feel important of an underachievement set free,
As an event as well, to be special, in your view, as marked.
It may not have meant anything for yet another man,
But when I jumped to see if I could ask for your number,
And stay connected in standing of being human,
You gathered courage to respond in silence – what a bummer!
These are small things I have learnt in compassion,
Coming from a high dose in background of plunder,
In emotions and restless configurations of passion,
With that, I hope I am not the only one that didn’t surrender.
Having a timetable and following it sporadically,
Looking back now, seems cool, and I mean occasionally,
Makes me think of not being in ROBOTIC ROMANCE,
Extending life in periodicity and being a man of inheritance.
To understand where I am in poetic expression,
I communicate pointing at Terra-forma!
But when a freaking fly of a person questions “Where do I land?”,
I must straightforwardly respond with “On earth”.
This goes to show for some people “Life is ‘hell’”,
While for some others “Life is ‘heaven’”,
Neither you nor I, should it ring a bell,
Narrate a story as if it is even.
Considering the arrival of an instance,
For me to make a lot of noise by honking,
Me, unlike most irksome people’s stance,
Would say “It isn’t exactly annoying!”.
It is a position of being in tolerance,
Of a custom or a habit of a person,
Engaging with you to be in unison,
In body and in thought of issuance.
All of it may be on a level of an overload,
Because I see it as a major life changing story,
Surprisingly, me, not living like a toad,
And taking it as a man in an allegory!
Crazily enough, I may have to mention,
I have spent more than a decade,
Of my so-called fruitful existence in low-key estimation,
Making no qualms about rounding in with a cavalcade.
Considering a few years whispering secrets when free,
Of descending into a life with you, and me,
Waiting on, for progress with an accord,
While falling into a space unknown to set straight a record.
Speculatively, I had fallen, but it was a figment of imagination,
By a few running objectively, and popping out of seclusion,
Wetting hands into a life of understandable deviation,
Turning heads back, they now take steps with strong motivation,
Towards positivity in life and being inclusive –
I question – to heal, is it too early to be exclusive?
There goes “I” into another master tale telling of experience,
With head spinning at the latest reset of appearance,
Within the norms of being a “factory-man” who recommends to drive,
And in regular language of humans be somebody who can thrive.
No matter to that – what is said or done,
Or, what is preached or practiced,
The source as in these matters are prone,
Associating issues of progress that is unrelated.
In robotic terms or in human expression,
The summary to poetry is to evoke emotion,
And you arrive at that point of evocation,
When it relates to you and you feel passion.
In forays made into the arenas of the oblivious,
There comes a time to state the obvious –
A necessary effort is needed for exchange of prose,
And for me, it’s been types of layered terms for a rose.
To begin a discourse, work hard and in my endeavour,
In achieving a goal, I understand unapologetic fervour,
And in an ecstatic moment of joy,
I call out the linking terms – “Ships Ahoy!”
Talking about ‘Ships’, unrelated but there are ‘Chips’ too,
And also “Match Boxes”, and “Pomme de terre” that flew!
When I say, I choose to talk about “Las Manzanas” and why?
Because “The sky is high and you are my butterfly!”
Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
"Of your foot"
Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
A realization is in approval of a delivery,
For the scene in a melancholic melody,
Of being cynical at a rate of stolen ebony and ivory –
For wearing bright shoes in a cryptic parody.
At one of those times of the day, to say,
Light falls in shadowed grills on the floor,
From heavenly abode – to a sun’s place to pray,
I dare say you must open the door.
The test of times was undervalued humour,
And the phases in the audience’s choice,
Of applause and laughter, hit back in fervour,
Keeping a rush ongoing by pushing a voice.
And then, before the arrival of a frantic fall,
Upon the stone of mediated store,
The background image makes sudden call,
And demands to be seen as in an encore.
The vibe was definitely into a perfect set,
With a lesson learnt in tip toeing,
As one who is somebody willing to bet,
On dancing of slow moving foot stepping!
In a repetition of fully multiple motions,
When one step leads to another,
I suspect wee bits of uncommon emotions,
And I also predict a party like none other.
As all perfection has to have a climax,
I see the one with less common antidote,
You and me, aiming at an incredible quote,
While everything is in here for us to relax.
But, the sinful energy of indulgence,
As crazy it makes us in acceptance,
With decent organs such as our brains lay –
The greys, the magentas are for sure in a fabulous stay.
The tenderness of the event on the crease,
Without doubt, the word before it is said,
Comes to be of most deprived state as we please,
Once again, of the heart that is not afraid.
"Don't be a stranger"
“Holding onto a line” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
“Holding onto a line” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
“Holding onto a line” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
As summed up, we are all in for fun fare,
Whilst there is a line eliminated with care,
That puts us amidst words, at those we stare,
Indicating that we are a feet away from a scare.
The line in consideration if not funny business,
Comes at a cost for opposing a mind game,
Restricting a fall in positional awareness,
And by which we come to terms with blame.
The harsh words used in it are sort of,
To be blown out of proportion,
And are dysfunctional or a matter better off,
In being more at steadiness in debilitation.
The sensitivity being of importance,
And that, causing a sensation of calling out,
For days in summer, at a mediocre stance,
If not for being level without any doubt.
Come to think if it, a few words said,
And those being expressions of no interest,
At best, systematic to hear and left to aid,
In putting obstructive behaviour to rest.
In what is considered a typical extract,
For a longing spent unknown in act,
To the concerned, even without response,
Poses a questionable situation, to impose,
Establishing a steadfast connection as essential,
And put at a place of allusions
To recollection of being very much substantial,
In bitter and sweet imaginations.
Where, in order to take hint of cessations,
From which as well a thread of joy arises,
That a response in all categorizations,
Makes for being content and aims at fancy prizes.
Well, the line that should be addressed is of fear,
As flowers can point to a situational swing,
But, not for lack of being present, or being dear,
For all, as one could wish for – it not to sting!
“Imposing discord” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
“Holding onto a line” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
“Holding onto a line” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
The purpose of sighting,
Imaginably thought of as creative,
And put into words, generates a zing,
That would be an adaptive method.
At the middle of an invigorating episode –
A spell of moments spread,
In a manner of piercing light and dark,
Alternative slots, that which the eye,
Captures, and that which the memory,
Retains, converge at a point in future,
Suggesting accuracy in an image.
And then, one realizes,
Of what is taken as a day-to-day
Interference from the ordinary,
Has had an impact as significant,
And as measurable, in worth,
Of the relentless unseen.
The process of back and forth,
Gets to construct a thought as solid,
And becomes of it with human touch,
From being a robot – springs life,
Into action and all is left at bay.
That eliminates any doubt,
Arising from speculation,
And we are not to be at,
A juncture of deciding,
Against what we are as one!
At this state of rudimental
Questioning of those processes
That come by as bizarre
And as pariah, we are to be
In discord of the narrative.
Call it?
Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
While reluctant in my attempt to be forlorn,
My habits keep me distant but not alone,
For I pulsate and to your tunes, I dance,
No doubt, in all of so called – trance.
There, at a race of a curiously held heart,
Picture me at an inadequacy of being smart,
Falling for a feeling so aptly in title –
My math fails at logic in your presence.
My incorrect guess based on a suggestion –
There is no real math in hell;
For which I engage in conversation,
And prove myself put away from talk and tell.
Please forgive me for my pettiness that I mock,
But to add as short as I have in time to June,
A plan is laid out for a sighting by work of a clock,
With a permit pending while not totally out of tune.
I, so elatedly put out a poster “Coming soon”,
And as enquired when, I suggest end of summer;
Now, a positive approach should prove to be a boon –
With the beat “You give me hope” on a drummer.
As with a blessed philosophical flashback,
Expectations went up and down my life stack,
And, as and when it comes to you, I fail to be intact,
Leaving me at an aid to rely on a bit of tact.
It may not be possible to understand the depth,
Of words that remain unspoken and I admit,
It doesn’t have to be uttered with every breathe,
As my heart skipped a beat once, while I did submit,
To a fanciful occasion of an elevating dream’s arrival,
When all it took was a moment to pass at that time,
With me left remaining in shatters and a worth at disposal,
Along with an accusation of being part of a crime.
Hopefully, this time around, I relive, not an exposed desire,
And have with you a lasting positive impression,
At a place where the sun shines in an attire,
Of a memory and a moment in association.
"Square one"
Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
I saw a thousand clocks in a room,
And saw no relevance in telling time.
Such is my song in life I croon,
That the beat is missed by its value.
A cold found only in extreme,
And the heat that doesn’t exist,
I keep at running in anticipation,
Of being and reaching paradise.
Who says? There isn’t the unreal!
For everybody, who is touched,
And is in for a ride of a lifetime,
I say, you better believe it!
And then, when it gets dangerous,
You can be even more scandalous,
In song and dance, and I believe, you
Are a reason for a detail so abstruse!
You drive and you are on a highway –
The wheels have no control,
And the speed is unreasonable,
C’est la vie! And we search to break.
I see the highway turning and exit into streets,
With crookedness and the dead-ends!
That’s when I jump and adore the thought –
It is that time in my life – excuse moi!
Time pauses, and there is your smile,
On a face so bright, and that which reveals,
A hidden dream at a juncture,
That kindness is shaped into a green shirt.
Time flies, I become a thread in a garment,
I see on you –
As the same green shirt of envy,
That which you wear to become locomotive!
Days and nights, I desire come, at last,
Becoming my extensive reality –
I climb the steps to center stage,
When I deliver a sensational speech.
The wording come in to be brief,
Owing to the occasion at a point of theft,
And is suggestive and stupendous –
You have to believe me, so incredulous!
My pitch surrenders to silence,
And mixes with the background,
When an impending ovation,
Comes into a second of course.
Applause to a life so spectacular,
At a time as relevant that I shed,
A pearl born in an ocean, now part,
Of my ornament and wants to never perish.
A bird flies in, supposedly as in my dream,
Into an obscure imagery of life,
Sits on my sturdy shoulder,
And chirps to convey a message.
The message is to frown and be a clown,
In this part of the town,
Where I begin to wear a gown,
To decide if it is a joke I want to disown.
And I did, with a recollection in times,
Of cruelty when there was no smile,
Of yours, that which is a cure so effective –
I begin to glow with its impact.
Everywhere, in the presence of your tangible smile,
Making people happy in times,
When a home was built –
I assume even this planet was smiling with us!
I wage a war with myself again –
If I want to be with you even more,
Now that I have seen you at a phase,
Of a dip, and followed by a rise.
At that position, you would confess,
I fall into a place of scholarly reason,
That teases me for my lack of control,
In becoming a stooge, so damn huge.
I stress, I don’t wish to be wise anymore,
For where ever I see I am in a fool’s paradise,
With a solid belief in redundant argument,
Of being correct and right, with even more intent!
That is the exact reason for me to follow you,
In a state of active and amazed realization –
A fool is either richer by experience,
To be consistently dumb or called so to be dear.
It is a languish in exercise of thought,
Where time has less relevance,
Even if you are in a room with,
A thousand clocks, and I am back to square one.
“The life of PIE” Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
The construction in the world of pies is formulaic. It follows a mathematical approach and that leads me to a self-declaration – when I eat pie, I feel as if it is part of me.
We know,
Pie without the letter ‘e’ (Pi) is subjected to a math,
And I am not to face the wrath. So, please introduce me as PIE -Pretty In Everything!
Mister PIE. Unlike, Mister PI, who is a mathematical delight to meet!
Please remember, it is an original sin, overeating pies as if it is the last meal – so be it, hinting at the indulgence of the devil, who clearly loves pie. We should make of it as a smooth transition away from a world of pies in peril while I must admit I am a pious pie when the devil is at it.
On the other side, not random guys and gals, but many people haven’t eaten a delicious pie for a long time, that includes the piece of pie that I am, and I am not the one who is skulking! The predicate affirms the presence of ingredients in a pie that are evidently fabulous and succulent. The best of visionaries are at the comfort of doing, sometimes the opposite of emancipation and in addition, give in to the temptation albeit a calm addiction of pressurized consumption of savouring the best of pies. The devil smiles, when the proof is evident – it is to point at the rate at which the pie is devoured from the very beginning to the place of ending! The fizz in spirit touches the roof and the memory of it remains unparelled. And then, a very stoic feeling towards life is in order – such a sensational epoch of time.
It is altogether, another one of the sins – we are to understand the betrayal in owning a recipe to a particular pie and not share it within the world of pies! But, we realize, when we do share, we feel completely exonerated from the depths of incredible commitment to the beauty of sophisticated and cultured titillation of the palate tips.
Munch, and take a break. Munch on it, again!
A bar of soap and its inadequacy, in being applied on the used dishes that are now looking to be crystal clear and shining best, is an aftermath of delivering a performance as peaked in feasting as much as it is a comfort in satisfaction of considering a familiar pleasant time from the past where the intake was unambiguously on par with the present only making us realize that the extravagance and luxuriousness of intake was not a cause to burnt bridges but is in a dissimilar region of verisimilitude indicating at a token of victory. It all came at the cost of unintended whistles and elated applause for that person’s reputation of whose recipe it is, not only to an extent of being slayed for the brilliance but also at a brink of being merited for the arrogance! Indeed, mind blowing and mind boggling!
And then, it was time for the peels of oranges laid down on the plate, to be viewed at in awe – orange juice consumed as an accompaniment with the pie. A sad combination as served.
On a day, when I felt like a pie – the shape of pie was trapezium and its glory sounded like one of the songs that came to mind
“If you say what you say you are, a superstar, then have no fear”
A modern miracle almost came to the edge of tomorrow – a marvel at best, if I am allowed to say so! A voice is heard and there were claps. But, that voice was not abruptly interrupted by another voice corroborating the fact that the pie no longer exists and that the bellies are full.
It implies that life is full of pies and we are choosing the pie best for us!
We can safely call it ‘the life of PIE’ in the world of pies. It is not a number and we definitely shouldn’t call it 'PI' at least for today. Hence, proved.
Now, I can take a leak.
“Calibration" Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
When the musical charmer is at his best,
The audience syncs in, with an audacity at test,
As they realize it is an act on behest,
Of their modesty, imposing the snake to rest.
The tune catches almost piece by piece,
In a hypnotic intervention to tease,
All that is kept open to in a set to appease,
The snake of a slight groove in its crease.
It is manifested in all that is progressive,
A channel as seen is comprehensive,
Between the snake and a charmer, as extensive,
And seen in swing, a sober move in act yet aggressive.
A look at this scene is no short of a miracle –
A venomous snake presents its endearing spectacle,
Of a sweet surrender to an inaudible tune as musical,
Of the charmer as eye meets eye in an optical.
The engagement reveals an intensity in all its glory,
Of submission, association and a comfort, narrating a story,
Of two units in sync with their swing, as if an apothecary,
Had an influence in their manner, so elementary!
Then, comes one clap followed by another,
Of everybody mesmerized and they turn hither-tither,
As they witness, in a world now, as if in ether,
At a moment of an underestimated glance to tether.
# Courtesy: Manas Vallabh
# is a label
# is almost a number
# has got the word hash in it
# is still a tag
# looks like a track