Accepting Denial

It’s been three months now, that I fell a hundred feet from a jet diving into water, but this is not about that.

Since the accident, time has literally “flown” and I believe in it now. Having tried and failed repeatedly at “getting back” to some sane routine has proven tougher than it used to be. On numerous occasions i have tried and succeeded quite comfortably at changing my routine and daily habits towards the better. This has only reinforced my self belief and confidence in having some sort of order and control over my life.

Having said that, I find it tremendously tough now to do the same. In what manner, is hard to comprehend. I have positively tried to comprehend and understand the situation, tried getting back to reading, pushing myself a little to not get distracted, or rather diverted from the task at hand, and zoning out into a comfortable abyss of nothingness, which happens to consume a lot of my daily hours. I have tried to focus on a certain activity, but probably the restless identity I associate myself with has only gotten worse and taken undue advantage of the susceptible state of my mind.

I do not relate to psychological weakness, though I do not completely disregard it. I have been informed of things like PTSD and factors that come along. I believe and strongly wish to be true, that a balanced and focussed mind can overcome any situation, however harsh it maybe. It has been one of my life’s guidelines, to preach and practice. Self doubt however sometimes consumes oneself. Is this denial, waiting and growing up inside of me, to later come and bite me where it hurts, or is it a subconscious manner of dealing with troubles. Probably does not make much sense, but it’s my own theory to live and try.

All of us handle stress in different manners, positive and negative. Throwing oneself into a drunken stupor to grab a few hours of worry-free sleep hasn’t been much of a mental help, but a physical means to avoid heavy painkillers and further ruin my health. Choosing one of the two evils, I’d say. Being positive has always been my tool to handle things. What’s yours?

Probably expressing ones worries and weaknesses to a near or dear one helps, but what if you do not wish to indulge anyone in your insecurities, however close they might be to you, or you think they are. Hard to accept kind of truth.

A very confused and erratic flow of thoughts, however perhaps, this is one of the manners one gets out their rhyme to reason. I’d rather let my jumbled thoughts be out their in the world than inside me. Let’s see how that goes.

Talking of denial. Yes or no. probably time will tell. Its hard to accept facts, harder to live with them. Extremely hard to face them. And even harder to tell yourself it’s not your fault. Not in denial that I have been affected by a sequence of events. Life changing ones. However, yes am in denial that it is alright. Doesn’t really feel that it’s alright. Perhaps I’ll share this out with the unknowing ear, with the unknowing heart, across town and seas, and find another mind that says the same.

Dil Betaab

Sab paa kar bhi
Kuch khone ka
Kaisa ye ajeeb
Ehsaas hai
Sab mil kar bhi
Na mil paane par
Mann majboor
Dil betaab hai

Chand lamho
Ki mulaqat
Teri Khushboo
Phir mere saath hai
Beete barso ke baad
Phir teri yaad me
Dil yoon betaab hai

Yoon hui mulaqat
Kayi arso ke baad
Jhoothi muskaano
Me chupi
Do dilon ki
Tapt awaaz hai
Khamosh hai labz
Dil yoon jo betaab hai

Why We Do What We Do

Why we do what we do

Identity. I believe whatever we do is for an identity. What identity one may ask. Right from the time we are born, we strive or are made to understand to strive in the rat-race of existence. Is it a self-generated consciousness or an inherited thought, that is to an individual decision.

Right from the time we set foot into kindergarten, and wish to draw a straighter line than our peers and draw a better house and a tree, more profound and colorful and exact than anyone else to be acknowledged and appreciated. It is not inheritance, it is an innate human trait, to be recognized, to be given an identity. As I grew older, I’d like to run faster, or jump longer, or hold my breath longer than the other person, to be identified as the boy who did it better. I would attempt on doing whatever I could do better, not for the sake of recognition but for the fact that if I did it better, it became my identity. It never was or is envy. It was and will always be synonymous with ego and attitude.
But does it always work. I don’t think its possible to be perfect all the time and not err. That is why from being a 90 percenter to a 70 and back to a 80 was a normal thing. From being the best student in class, to being a back bencher, and ultimately being at another strata, it has been more than a sin curve and already hitting a few crests and troughs in less than three decades, only tells me that its only has just begun.

Getting back to identity. What I do, what I strive to do is in my mortal life is to set an identity for my existence. We know all the great minds of the world for the identity they left behind. A famous revolutionary, a great scientist, the great adventurer or the super athlete, may not be remembered for their background, their qualification, their theories or hard work, but their name will survive the tyranny of time, just because they achieved their “identity”.

Moving around a lot of schools every now and then, making new friends at the blink of an eye, losing them sooner than was expected, life has been a run, an interesting, exhilaration, learning run. The few pauses and breaks should only be taken as breathers and procrastinated decisions. Hitting college was a low, as it was not what I wanted, but how does anyone know what they want when they’re barely out of puberty and teenage love. I would not generalize for I have known some fantastic people who did know what they wanted to be and have stuck to it and become exceptional at their skills. But I was not one of them. I was the one, who bought a ticket at the theatre counter depending on what life had to offer.
Fast forward a little through the “grown-up” part of life and I am here today, writing my thoughts on what we do and why we do it. This thought struck me as I watched a rendition of Neil Armstrong spiralling down to earth in a X-15 from an altitude of 145000 feet. Did he do it for the extra pay, did he do it for his country, did he do it for an identity. What is that makes us, us. Perseverant personalities, individuals who push themselves to do, what others might consider foolhardy.

I aspired to be a fighter pilot, and have achieved some level of it and wish to go through the rest. Does it come at a cost? Yes it does. It comes at a cost of living each day one at a time, comes at the cost of losing friends, family and more. Hitting the apex might be tough, staying there is tougher. Knowing what not will befall you the next morning but voluntarily forgetting the rest of your life every time you climb that ladder and not for a fraction of a second thinking whether you’ll be climbing back down at the end of the day. Locking up the worse of your fears in one corner of your mind and pushing every ounce of confidence and courage into ever limb, muscle and mind, to achieve that one mission.

Some experiences, become friendly banter, the rest you lock up inside and never wish to face again. It becomes a part of us, and stays that way. It is personal, it is precious. Living one day, at a time. And probably the whole concept of having an identity in this myriad crowd of minds and faces, will justify this self-generated risk-fraught recklessness, as my parents would term it.

Why do I do what I do. Cause I can. And if I didn’t who will.

I Have A Picture

I have a picture of you
While you smile
In stranger streets
At random things
Buzzing on wines
Making memories past 9
Twisting and twirling
Across drunken pubs
Noisy clubs
Strutting your way
Barefoot across the street
Onto sands
Of a moonlit beach
Laughing for no reason
Emotions being the season
As you turn again
And look me in the eye
Drag them to watch the stars
Make shapes and dreams
Of them all
Of clouds and fairy tales
Of strangers in the night
I have a picture of you
In the corners of my mind
From sneaked moments
From fleeting nights
Stolen sparkles
From the corners
Of our eyes
Twisted laughter
Molded with time
…I have a picture
Maybe it never was
Or maybe it is right..


when i can’t finish
the songs in my head
the tunes in my heart
this dark dread
when i can feel
no pain in pain
no sense of grief
when tears fail to fall
and the hurt
is all i can keep
how do we find closure
when i can’t smell
your hair in my face
when i can’t
even forget your face
how can i give away
the treasures of my heart
the corners of my mind
the depths of my soul
how do we find closure
when the paths
never seem to end
and go about
in circles infinite
like the ache
i feel in my heart
when it rains at night
when am cold in summer
aching your embrace
when i don’t find
your soul in another
like all the living
were dead
maybe its me
whose dead inside
searching for the unknown
searching for myself
searching for the close
to our closure

It’s blaring din and noise

In the club tonight

There are people by my side

But feels am alone somehow

Is the music solace

Or something to drown my mind

Why do I feel the tears run down

Even though I smile all this while

Why does my mind rewind

To times I wish to hide

Why does the spirit fail me

What’s with the fading high

Time heals time forgets

I hear this all the time

Everyone says it’s the truth

I have felt, it’s a lie

Everytime I see someone turn

Thats the shadow I run behind

The taste of your perfume

Fills my air all this while

Why do I run away

From pursed lips

Do I fear

They won’t taste just right

Or is it the shade of your mascara

I’d miss tonight

Jaane kya dhoondta hai

Madhosh mehki fizaoo me

Teri dheemi dheemi aahon me

Hasti machalti nigahon me

Dhoop me behte baadlo si

Teri zulfo ki chaon me

Jaane kya dhoondta hai

Bikhri purani hawao me

Tude purane iraado me

Jhutkare un waadon me

Kare jo sang meri baahon me

Jaane kya dhoondta hai

Badsalook ishq ki wafaao me

Chalte bichadte un raho me

Bhool gaye jo hum anjaano me

Zabardasti ki in adaon me

Jaane kya dhoondta hai

Anjaan chehro me

Tera apna pan

Kisi aur ki aagosh me

Tera bheega badan

Jaane kya dhoondta hai.

The feelings between

Your memories are a guise

Take me by surprise

They stop me where I am

What I am doing

Make me realise

I remember all the agony

And the agitation

All the tightness in the chest

Oh the suffocation

‘was maddening to say the least

My mind’d want you to go away

Oh please!

Beneath all this pain and pinch

My heart ached for you

Every inch

‘was screaming

Don’t let go

What you did, maybe right

What I did, I’d never figure

Till the day I die

All done and said

It’s a mighty pain

Like the loner on a highway

In incessant rain

Like the orphan whose lost

More than he had

The tree from the Oasis

Never passed

I still stop

Look out and smile

For between the agony and pain

Deep inside I hide

The smell to your skin

The texture of your lips

The warmth of your breath

The feeling inside my chest

When you’d lay a hand

Across my mind a mess

I smile at the silliness

Of you

I laugh when am alone

Thinking of you

You’re the whisper in my ears

In a windy storm

The creases in my heart

When everyone else is gone

You’re the universe to my existence

The elixir to my pain

The one i hide along

Inside my dismayed brain

I hold on to my agony

It helps me live

But what about my heart

That feels you still

Give it time

It was love

Or more we figured

She’d lose herself into me

I’d lose my mind over her

in my arms she wasn’t an insomniac anymore

Between hers I was me much more

She’d fly to be wherever I’d be

I’d hate to see her go

She was my crazy

I was her sanity

It was love we thought

It sure was much more

She was my muse

I her sorrow

We wanted to hold on

And still let go

She poisoned her heart

I, my mind

And all was forgotten

Over all this time

So we thought….