Battle of Glass.

We wanted a war, but we called it peace. And we bombed each other's cities till nothing was left. Now, you've left me alone to take care of the wounded. The least you could have done was help me bury the dead.

In circles.

Our lives are like circles we revolve in. We believe we are behind all the time, no matter how many laps we take. The person you run with, is always 'ahead', regardless of how many times he goes around, regardless of how many times you overtake him, regardless of how many times you beat him. Regardless of how many times you outshine him. Because that's how you see it.

The corner offfice of my mind.

You can tell me that everything is rented. That even my time, is borrowed. Well, sir, at least my thoughts are my own.

The Children Of Time.

January has isues with his mother, February is always thinking about things he wants to do while March does them, April eats sweets and May pays for them. June is the oldest but not the wisest, and July has an opinion on everything. August never stops trying to do the right thing, even if he doesnt always know what it is. September once saw something so sad, she never stopped crying. October holds the lift for everyone, vice-presidents and street-sweepers alike(for his memory, not theirs) and November makes fun of him for this. December is tired, but hopeful. He has never stopped believing.

Monday's obviously a bastard, quite literally as dad can't remember what or who he was doing. Tuesday's temperamental but ok as long as you stay on her good side. Wednesday doesnt say much and Thursday sometimes hums just to break the silence. They're in love. Friday's always wasted and she and Saturday hold each other tightly until their delirium fades.

But Sunday, Sunday knows she's the end. But she closes her eyes, and she pretends with all her strength in her tiny heart that really, she's the dawn.

The city that forgot to paint the Sun.

From bright Yellow to singed Orange,

from singed Orange to hot Red,

from hot Red to dull Gray,

from dull Gray,

It died.

The fire in the smoke.

What I meant to say was, sometimes I stare at the cigarette in my hand and beg it to stop wasting my time and just kill me. But, I figured they didnt want to hear that.

The end bit, is animated.

We helped people when big things happen to them, when you see them getting hit by a car, when a brother or a sister or a father or a mother dies, we're there for them because we can see that death kills more than the person it takes. And yet, the people around us who die a little all the time, moment by moment, who require the least help, the smallest sacrifice, are the ones we ignore completely.

Look inside; look inside your tiny mind, and play a bit harder.

Right now, I'm just a silent back row spectator. What makes you think you're the smartest dog on the planet baby?

Yesterday, I slipped and fell backwards. Had a minor concussion which caused deja vus and amnesia at the same time. So forgetting and remembering at the same time was shit confusing. I got a little worried how I'd remember all the chemistry for my exams, but the I thought, 'What exams?' :/

Hidden meanings.

For some reason, a long time ago, we sat down and said that on this day, we would set aside everything and try to find some meaning in the chaos of the world around us.

So, in spite of the people who will fight around you, the family members who'll argue, the one's who'll tell you it's a waste of time and money, on your own or with someone else, you go out there and you find a moment. One serene beautiful moment when the world and everything in it makes sense. It's rare. And it doesn't get handed to you on a platter. Which is why you've got an entire day to look for it.

The Layers Unseen.

There is magic even here, in gridlock, in loneliness, in too much work, in late nights gone too long, in shopping trolleys with broken wheels, in boredom, in tax payments, the same magic that made a man write about a princess that slept until she was kissed, long golden hair draped over a balcony fingers pricked with needles. There is magic even here, in sewer-holes along a neat road, in not having the right change(you pat your pockets), arriving late and missing the school bus, the same magic that caused a woman in France to think that God spoke to her, that made another sit down at the front of the bus and refuse to move, that lead a man to think that maybe the world wasn't flat and the moon could be walked upon by human feet. There is magic. Even here. In a dim-lit, lonely room.

The catwalk in the sky.

And, it may look to you that I am just walking through your city with my head held high.

But in my head, I am not in your city.

Don't wait for a fullstop.

Okay so you're out the gates and in the race and you get an education a job and a wife and a kid and you drink and you eat and you consume things like your lover and a cigarette and a drink and a bite to eat before you sleep and then wake up and do it all over again because you can and you will and that's what's expected of you just like they expected it of your father and his father before him and one day they'll expect it from your kids too and then their kids will follow your over trodden footsteps into the office and get a cup of coffee and talk by the water cooler about what movies they saw last night.

You need to slow down. There is more than this.

Shades.

Our buildings. Your car. An iPod. These things don't make us feel special. They are no different from a peacock's feathers or a butterfly's wings. Civilization is just another colour on nature's pallet, and our lives are flashes of light across her canvas.

The Song.

Play the song loudly and hear it because you like it. Not because you want them to hear you liking it.

The Look.

See the windows. See the world. See the tiny blue dot. See the sun. See the moon. See the stars. See the rain. See the joy. See the children. See the lovers. See the night. See the dawn. See the now. See the then. See the always. See the falling. See the running. See the saving. See the goodbye. See the hello. See the fear. See the hope. See the me. See the you.

You need to open your eyes.

The Grass

You didn't walk up stairs when you were little. You skipped them, two at a time. You didn't go around the garden. You went straight through. You didn't avoid walls and fences. You hopped over them.

Life is too short not to walk on the grass.

The remembering.

Your life will be remembered. You will be reborn on the lips of storytellers. A whispering around a fire. A telling of a tale.

You will become a legend. Then, a myth. Then simply an idea.

Ask yourself "What do I want to be remembered for? What idea do I want to become?"

Then answer yourself. And do it.

The Missing Exclamation Marks

You're ok. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. It's ok. It's over now. You're ok. Wake up. Please wake up. Don't do this to me. Don't do this to me. Don't do this to me. Come back. It's over now. Wake up.

So you wrote words on the walls of the prison. Never noticing that the paragraph became cages. Each sentence, a bar. Each word, another lock.

Let's run around in the malls. Let's drive very fast. Let's turn up the volume to as loud as it can get. Let's put a couch on an island in the middle of the freeway, and wave at everyone on their way to work. Let's hug strangers in the parking lot. Let's hand out secret messages at traffic lights. Let's make lists of all the things that make us smile and tick them off, one at a time. The world will carry on with out us when we're gone.  Then, let it carry on without us, today

The best way to run into traffic.

It does not count if you believe in yourself when it's easy to believe in yourself. It does not count if you believe the world can be a better place when the future looks bright. It does not count if think you can make it when the finish line is right in front of you.

It counts when it's hard to believe in yourself, when it looks like the world's going to end and you've still a long way to go.

That's when it counts. That's when it matters the most.

The place where you get off.

Outside the station, she stands with her child on the side of the street, taking pictures of cars. You think she's insane. Until, one day, you notice that she's taking pictures of the license plates of the cars her child gets into.

Because you look. But, you do not see.

And she walks out the shop with bags full of cat food. You think she's some crazy cat lady until you find out, she has no cats.

Because you eat. But, you do not taste.

It's been a while since their last album but he assures you, he's doing just fine these days, white flecks on his nostrils. Then he asks you if he can spend the night on your couch, even though it stinks.

Because you sniff. But, you do not smell.

And they say "Just OK" when you ask them how school was. Then you wonder what they're hiding until you find their diary and the last entry reads "I wish you'd give me some privacy."

Because you listen. But, you do not hear.

And they've got a bruise over their eye and you run the tips of your fingers over it and how ask them how it happened. You believe them. Until it happens again.

Because you touch. But, you do not feel.

And they walk past you everyday, one million stories, each waiting to be told. Waiting for you to ask.

Because you live. But very few, care.

The person you are is better than the ghost you were.

If the type of person you wish existed, doesn't; then that is who you must become.

The Stranger In You

My parents gave me a book and it told me I was made of dirt and dust. But you, you were made of ash.

The Law of the little.

I happened to be around a couple of kids recently which brought back memories of childhood. As I have grown older, I have forgotten so many rules and regulations I once followed religiously, and I am sure you have too. I must say that I have learned more about laws and rules from these kids in the past few days than I have learned in years. Let me share some observations.

Once I got a chance to observe a heated conversation between my a seven-year old boy and his six-year old cousin. They were playing together. Things were going fine. The first happened to have a pocket full of candy. The other didn't. He asked him for a piece of that candy. He said no. The first tried again, and was refused, again. It was on the third try that the second made his threat.
"If you don't give me some candy, you are not my cousin anymore."
And there it was. I had forgotten one of the greatest aspects of childhood. It was pure, it was simple, and it was being enacted right before me.
The laws that govern the little.

As silly as 'you are not my cousin anymore' sounds to adults, to a six-year old, it's serious business. At six years old, you can have your cousinhood annulled verbally! It was a valid threat, and it worked! The other coughed up some candy real quick!

You can't help but admire the simplicity of the kiddie legal system. No lawyers, no paperwork. Just word. Yet, so many legal areas are covered.

Insurance was big back then, I remember.

You're playing cricket, and you've got a new ball that cost you twenty rupees. Before the game starts, you make an announcement.
"Jo Gumaye ga, woh bharega"
Bingo! You just bought insurance. Now, if someone loses that ball, hits it on the roof, throws it down the sewer, you're covered. That person is responsible for re-imbursing you.

"Dibs" on the other hand, was how you staked your claim to something that wasn't your's yet.
Dad's driving to get a job done. He asks if you and your sibling want to come along. Without wasting a precious second, you shout!
"Dibs on the front seat!"
Now you can take your sweet time getting to the car. You wanted a certain piece of real estate, and "dibs" was your down payment. But "dibs" could be tricky, like any legal contract, you had to be guarded against loopholes. At any moment, your sibling could shout:
"Dibs on the front seat.. on the way back!"

It was a simple system. But you had to know all the ins and outs, otherwise you could end up in the backseat until you had your own car.

If only we have the same system among the adults. Simple, pure and cheap. Of course, once you become an adult, you realize the necessity of our complicated legal system. Yes, it'd be nice to get rid of all the red tape, but think of how high the divorce rate would be if all it took was:

Husband: "You're not my wife anymore."
Wife: "Dibs on all your money."

;)

Man, of today, has always sought out pleasures and comfort. One would go to uncertain extents to get what he wants, to fulfil his needs. I don't blame anyone, it's the fault of the time we live in. Bribery, rascism, political instability, social injustice; the 'nearly negligible' issues. Things can be negligible in two ways: Either they are very small in number, or they are just too many to care about.

Sometimes I feel like a fist,
Sometimes I am the colour of air,
Sometimes I feel like the soul of a shadow,
Sometimes I am the tick of a clock,
Sometimes it's only afterwards,
I find that I'm not there.

But when the sun rises high, there's no place for you. You'll be gone away and you won't even leave a trace.

Just remember, you are just a shadow of the dark