In bed with my senses shot to dust… The bottles empty and the smoke blowing away with the morning breeze.. The ‘Surreal Calm’ that everyone talks about.. Pink Floyd taking you away to another plane.. another dimension.. Then reality sets in…The house feels so empty after an insane party.. The adrenalin levels suddenly coming down to normal. You running on afterburners after that crazy high.. and you let Pink Floyd recreate that aura again…

Pink Floyd takes me to my own paradise.. the perfect place.. without the attached worries, the omnipresent pain… It’s like a journey back in time for me.. The innocent days of a toddler, the schooldays.. shouting ‘We don’t Need no Education’ on stage… dreaming bout the future, listening to ‘Time’ only to watch those dreams broken by reality… Taking up ‘Money’ as a theme during the renaissance.. Now sitting here listening to ‘Sorrow’… It’s an amazing song.. reminds me of what I’ve gained and the innocence lost.. those glory days, those unforgettable moments, those irreversible decisions and those unmistakable opportunities.. Nick Mason bringing the sorrow to an end and Gilmour starts the rehabilitation.. Now I’m ‘Coming back to life’…. It’s inexplicable how you can put your whole life in version of the Pink Floyd sound…..

Drifter..

Amidst the fury, between the heights and depths, we drift thro' life..... Prey for aimless days and sterile memories, like wandering shadows!! Hostile to the past, impatient to the present and cheated of a future - Obstinately mute.... We feed our despondency with fleeting imitations, messeges as disconceting as flight of shallows. Like a dew drop at sundown, or those queer glints the sun sometimes dapples on empty streets. Escape... escape to the outside world, and cherish the all too real phantoms of lethal imagination. An imagination conjuring pictures of a land where a special play of light, two or three hills, a favourate tree, a woman's smile... composes a world nothing can ever replace and no one can ever reach... Seasons come and go in glad or saddening pageant, from sunrise to sunset the day shifts from gold to shadow... The soul oscillates from the cool breeze of spring to the langaurous summer afternoons... A walk on autumn leaves and the dew drenched grass in winter.... Nature in her swiftness and the soul in unrest... racing in an eternal rally.

Scribble !!!

The Art of Writing is inexplicably interwoven with fantasy, imagination and hope. A story, or an article, however big or small, reflects your perception of life. No matter what the topic, your description of it will depend a lot on the way you see it, feel about it and relate to it in real life. Relating to a subject is as important as your vocabulary to explain it..

I may not be a writer, not by a long stretch. But I relate to writing. It gives me a reprieve to vent my feelings. About the way I see or feel about life that was, or could've been.. I dont know what it is about writing that captivates me so. Try as I may, I've never been able to write fiction.. Or non fiction for that matter. But just penning down my thoughts is enough to satisfy that urge, the urge to convert thoughts into action. Till that urge is alive, I'll keep filling up these pages. Maybe just satisfy the most captivating urge of all.. Creativity... Till then, I'll do what do I best.. Scribble!!!

The Helping Hand..

This is the day of realization. Each one of us came to a point where we realized what we wanted, what we had, what we lost and what the future looked like.
Today we all reached a point where we could understand what the other was going through. We got a little disillusioned about our own problems and got involved with theirs. Surprisingly, we had a better understanding of their problems then our own. We all were hurting. We knew the answers or thought we knew them, but we just needed to hear it from someone else. Maybe it was just the pain, or the responsibility of our own choices. Maybe we just needed a little reaffirmation in our faiths, our beliefs. Maybe that's the way we lived our lives.
That's the way friendship works, i guess. We hear out each other's problems, try and solve a few, and maybe, just maybe we fix some of our own this way....

The Long Hard Road...

Isnt it amazing?? You get labeled for living your dreams, fighting for your beliefs and following your heart..No offence meant to anyone!! Just stating what I've felt throught these years of scrapping and clawing at my dreams.. Why is he labeled inconsiderate and insensitive for running after his career?? Its not his fault that he cant afford to lose time getting to a place where he is ready to handle a family!! Ask any parent.. their first criteria for their son in law would be a sound platform... OK... I m drifting towards a direction where I dont wanna go.....

When friends with past relationships meet after a long time, We get talking over a couple of beers.. 'bout love, 'bout life.... A lotta questions arise.. some answers I could'nt give.. No one can!! Love is something no one has a solution for... Its as fragile as a dream... You cant wake up.. You've got to sleep through it... You wake up to your needs and wants and that dream will vanish!!!

Coming back to relations, does everyone really think that we take women for granted?? That we think only for ourselves?? Have you ever thought bout the obvious question.. WHY??? Why do we run after an unattainable dream? Why do we reach for the stars? Why dont we have time for you or ourselves?? Who are we trying to please?? The answer is as obvious as the question... YOU!!!

Ego Check!!

What is an Ego?? How do you measure it? What context or importance does it have in real life? How is it born? With the knowledge that you are superior than the rest... or better control of life?? Or just plain self indulgence and selfishness??

A man, with a 'huge ego', never really understands the real meaning or the realms of his own ego. Maybe he doesn't want to.. He lives and dies by it, never really going into the depths of its purpose. He doesn't care for anyone who's against him, thus compromising on a lotta small pleasures in life. But there are still things that trouble him. Thoughts of a better life, I suppose.. But then, Ego can be just a thought too, cant it? A feeling, an emotion. Sometimes, small things, small truths or incidents can change the very course of our life or the world we live in.. Just as easily as an uncontrolled ego can..

We build a wall around ourselves to protect us from the hurt and the pain.. maybe the reality and the truth too.. sometimes we get trapped within those very walls we built.. Our ego drives us.. for better or for worse?? It's up to us to decide... Control is the key. But can you control something that you cannot define?? Can you at all??

The Sound of Music

Waking up to the sound of music has been a constant in my life ever since I knew what music was. Not that I play anything, nor do I sing. My love for music is limited to listening and loving the aura it creates. In my schooldays, I used to fall asleep to the tunes of my father's Phillips tape recorder. It didnt have auto side change, only auto rewind. And it was too much for me to listen to just 7 - 8 songs over and over again. So I recorded a few of my absolute favs on a blank tape and like I said, the tradition of sleeping and waking up to music began. It was easier when the CD era came in, more so with the MP3s. 150 plus songs is enough to get you thro' your toughest day or your longest night. Now its all 'bout PCs and Laptops. Unending playlists and unchartered territory.

But I still love my Dad's old recorder. Somehow I can't identify with the digital sound the way I did with the tapes. Well, people say the closest to live music is the LP era. I didnt get a chance to hear too many of them. But I guess the tapes come a close second. At least for me. I still miss listening to my my tapes now that CD's and DVD's have taken over. I guess at heart, I am still an analog player in a digital world. I have moved on with time though. Stowed away my collection of tapes and replaced them with CDs. My laptop has over 2000 songs, my PC has even more. So I guess I've kept up the tradition I started around 12 yrs ago. The devices have changes, the medium has changed, the music has too, so have my choices. But I still love waking up to the Sound of Music!!

Making Music

Damn these song writers are good!! Making music is a tough job..Specially the love songs. I mean, how do they capture such pain and helplessness in just a few simple words? Where do they get this inspiration? I dont think everyone of them has gone thro' such times or experienced such heartaches. Like say pain from a broken relation, or love not reciprocated. Take "Paint me a Birmingham" for instance. I dont think he really met that painter and asked him to paint that. I dont think anyone in Pearl Jam lost someone to a car accident. I may be wrong, of course. I dont know the facts. Just plain speculation. But its something to think about. I just had a heartbreak. Still trying to recover from it. But I am sitting here listening to songs written by these great artists, instead of trying to write a song myself. Thats why everyone loves them and treat them as Gods and the only people who are gonna read what I write are my friends and a few more if they happen to unknowingly land on this page..
You know whats more amazing? Whenever you are going thro' a tough phase in life, whenever you are down and depressed, all you need to do is put on some music. There'll inadvertently be one or two songs which match your situation, your emotions. How you take it is up to you. Get more depressed and lonely or sing along and laugh it up. I tried both. Believe me, both work. Or lets say both dont. Though it does lightens the mood, you get back to where you started after sometime.. Thats when a switchover comes in handy. I get back to Rock. Mark Knopfler crooning to his guitar tunes or a lil' psychedelic with Floyd. They really blow your mind. Life on its destructive row, time, money, sorrow, music, movies, the whole walk of life. It really gives you a different perspective in life. Two different genres, two different outlooks, two different meanings. The same class, the same magic. Damn these writers are good!!

The Rise of the Phoenix

The rise of the proverbial Phoenix from the ashes, has been the core of my imagination for the last couple of years. At first, it was just a catchy phrase, heard from an over imaginative and overtly intelligent friend. The idea of the phoenix and the flames was very 'cool' for a guy like me at a stage where I still wanted to belong. little did I understand the concept behind her obsession with it.

They say, and I believe them, that you need a jumpstart in life to get going on something you have been planning for ages but never seem to find the time or determination to actually start with. Maybe its intentional. Maybe we just don't have the courage to start on a new track after we've been derailed by life. I got my jumpstart a couple of days back and it feels wonderful to finally get cracking on that 'half a page of scribbled lines' as Floyd calls it. Getting back on track after a stint in the wilderness, after missing the 'Last local' does feel amazing. Now I'm getting a grasp on the concept of the proverbial phoenix, rising from the ashes, to claim its rightful dominance of the skies. To keep fighting, to get up each time you fall, rising from the ashes, rejuvenated and ready to fight again, thats what life's all 'bout. Thats the Phoenix way...

Goodmorning Beautiful..

The clock strikes 9 and 'The Eye of the Tiger' penetrates thro' my dreams in a heartbeat. Searching for the phone to switch off the alarm, I topple the ashtray by the bed.. I dont care bout the mess, I dont care what time it is and what schedule I have for the day.. At that point of time I just wanna get back to sleep, get back to my dreams, maybe for just that 10 mins that the snooze allows before filling the room with images of Rocky pumping iron..

This has been the story ever since I left school. I've always been a slow clot when it comes to waking up in the morning. No, I dont mean I wake up late.. I mean I take time to wake up. I can wake up at 6 in the morning but I've to start trying from 5. It gets worse during winters. The cold breeze outside and the fuzzy warm feeling inside the blanket, the darkness still prevailing outside with the fog blocking out any warmth the morning sun is sending our way.. well, its just perfect... to stay in bed for another 10 mins, then another and then some..

I got talking with a friend of mine a couple of days back.. We are real close. We kind of share the same thoughts and habits.. He gave me a very valid and believable explanation. He said our conscious mind wakes up but our sub conscious mind doesn't.. It got me thinking.. There've been a lot of times when I've woken up before the alarm when I knew I had to wake up early for something. And there have been times when all the alarm did was rock me into a deeper sleep.. Maybe he's right.. or maybe there's no rational reason for our morning behavior except our own will and determination.. whatever the case is, I do miss the beautiful morning sunshine more often than not.. No matter when I sleep, I would like to make it a point to wake up early and enjoy the mornings at a more regular basis.. Even if that means breaking my dates with the moon once in a while...