Sunday, September 23, 2012

Chasms to be Crossed

And one more love song, just one more hit
And after that I will be sick -
Falling Down in a pile
I think I am burning like a Pyre -
Of all the things that I mistook
I forgot you were a crook -
Walking talking, like a liar
I hope to make a great big fire -
And all my friend and all my lore
They seem so lost upon the shore -
And In my thoughts, I am just lost
There are still chasms to be crossed


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Friday, September 14, 2012


You know how some songs have vocals that entice you and enchant you. And then there are songs that need no vocals, the instruments alone are enough to enchant us. Instrumentals they are called in western music. I do not know what they are called in the eastern musical schools, neither do I want to find out. I find these more beautiful. The eastern musicians figured out the beauty of instruments long ago and they even invented an instrument to remove the human vocals all together. They invented the Sarangi. A beautiful instrument that can mimic the human voice under the impressions of a master. But this is a topic for some other time, right now I want to focus on instrumentals. They have a beauty of their own. They are universal because they are not bound by language. You can understand them, nay you can feel them deep within you stirring in the heart. Resonating with the body, creating a rhythm. But they fall short of the soul; All instruments do, But instrumentals do not. Nature has instrumentals too, I used to hear them. I miss those sounds that the silence of the night had. I do not mean this in poetic terms, no. There actually were sounds in the silence of the night. Searing through it, tearing at it, trying to push it away. Then there would be a sound that did not do that. That sound, it merged with the night, it touched the soul. That sound, that one sound, it rhymed with the soul and made music unheard, unseen. Those instrumentals I want to hear now as an adult. I heard them when I was a child, I guess all children heard them. But Now, I would appreciate it even more. They are sounds of the ether itself, merging with us and making us feel. Emotions and feelings that have long since been buried, things that we hid but must face in order to grow. That is the beauty of Instrumentals, they feed us and we grow.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012


Embrace it, grace it; it graces us. It is a truth from which you think you can run. It has wings and you just legs. It is a truth which you vehemently deny. You deem it a lie, a weakness. It completes us and gives us purpose and drives us. How boring would be a world where nothing ever died. Beauty would cease to be and pleasure would wane. Such an existence is pointless. Whenever I write about death, I lose my objectivity. Things blur but it may not be normal. But normal is boring and it is over rated. It is just a way to prevent us from appreciating the truth like death. It is not a phenomena that occurs like scientists say. It is not a god, oh no it is too simple to be a god. It is death plain and simple. But it is not boring. Oh no, By no means is it boring rather it is intriguing, it is alluring, it is callous, it is cunning, it is vivid, it is detailed. It is so much more than just an idea, it is a perfect idea. It is not death that we fear, we fear its beauty the overwhelming truth. We all see it and we all try to ignore it but no good comes from it. People think they won't die, now that is just provocative. Death is beauty, it is sentient, and It will punish you for not acknowledging its beauty. More so if you think you can best it, in the end death wins. It has till eternity so it will be beautiful till the end. We, we fade and rush towards death. It will embrace you, you just have to wait for it and it will embrace you. try to run from it and it will hunt you. Even in its cruelty death is so beautiful. It is horrifying, barbaric, monstrous; but then again it has a grace, a poetry of its own. Embrace it, grace it; It is death.