Friday, 12 December 2014

Dreams of a benevolent master

as the slave girl danced,

she danced with all her heart, 
she danced to the thunder of the whip,
she danced on shards of her broken wings,

as the slave girl danced,

she danced on molten fire,
she danced on the demise of her inner desires,
she danced on the shame of her love, 

as the slave girl cried,

she cried on the funeral of her hopes,
she cried on the mockery of her soul,
she cried on the betrayal of her core,

as the slave girl cried,

she cried on the loss of her innocence,
she cried on the loss of her faith,
she cried on her inhumane fate,

as the slave girl raged, 

she raged for her cruel fortune,
she raged for her revenge,
she raged for her master, 

as the slave girl prayed,

she prayed for the turning of her fortune,
she prayed for her saviour,
she prayed for her captor, 

as the slave girl hoped, 

she hoped for respite, 
she hoped for redemption,
she hoped for a benevolent master......

Monday, 1 December 2014

1st september, 1999 - Diary of a little girl

when i was a little girl , all i wanted was dolls to play with. i used to sit by the side of the play ground, looking at other little girls , playing with their dolls, playing like girls, having everything they ever wanted , with no care in the world. 

Even as a little child i had so much pride , i could not ask my parents to buy me things. whatever i had, was what somebody assumed i needed or wanted and bought me, but i could never tell them what i truly wanted. in order to play with dolls, me and my sister , we used to make dolls of paper , we would make their clothes with paper too and would colour them the way we wanted. i was happy with that. 

i always looked at other girls doll houses and tea sets. they were so beautiful and colourful. every little girls dream of her own house starts with that little doll house, be it made of wood , or plastic, but that is when the fantasy begins.  
i didnt have fancy tea sets or doll houses , but i had couch cushions and cardboard boxes which i used to make my doll houses , suffice it to say , they fit perfectly for the paper dolls. 

i used to collect coins , when i had enough , i would go and buy tea sets made out of mud. they were cheap , but they served their purpose and made me happy. it was a good life , but for an 8 year old, it was a life of burdens. burden of pride. today i realise, an 8 year old should not have pride , an 8 year old should have toys , or if it not toys, atleast should have something to play with. 

as i write this diary , i realise i am no longer a little girl , but today at 50, and countless mistakes later , i have come to realise , i need to write about my mistakes , about my shortcomings , not to generate sympathy , but maybe , in some dark corner , someone may find this , and learn something ...... but maybe, because i believe , writing about my life , may , make it interesting.....

                          

Monday, 24 November 2014

The clock goes tick tock.......

Ticking of the clock is always a reminder of the falling sand that washes through our hands and flies off with the wind. 
Time itself is meaningless. 
But time in its totality is all there is. 
Every time we think about our past, all we see are pages of our memory that our lost forever.
Every time we wonder about our future, all we see are shadows of what could be, something we can never touch. 
Our past will always be something that eluded us, left us and no matter what we try , it will be like burnt ashes , scattered and lost.
Our future, will always be within arms length but we will never be able to touch it, hold it, feel it.
In reality all we truly have is the second that we live in.
The moment in which we live is all there is to our life. 
Everything else is like waves of the ocean that crash and fall and wash away , never coming back. 
Time is all there is and all there never was.
It could also be, that everything there is, every second it becomes the past. 



Sunday, 23 November 2014

sins of sanity


As the universe questions my sanity, 
I see shadows of evils vanity,

As the devil surrenders to tomorrow, 
I see hopes and ashes of sorrow,

As the greedy hoard their treasures, 
I see lucifers cage and it's pleasures,

As the nymphs prepare for their dances, 
I see hungry eyes prancing, 

As pride spreads it's wings, 
I see blood hounds unleash their wrathful swings,

As I sign away my sanity, 
I see victory in my nemesis insanity ....


Saturday, 22 November 2014

the inherent enigma of "what if" and "why me"


i believe that even in the darkest hours of our lives, there is always that little ray of hope, that helps guide us. the thing that defines our character is how we approach that little ray of hope. either we treat it like the appearance of an oasis in the middle of a dry desert or the ever promising guide to a better tomorrow! a better tomorrow is never really set in stone, but good things do come to those who wait. who hope. 

i have spent a good part of my life wondering about all the what ifs and whys of my life. i have had through walk through my own personal pits of darkness to find the light at the end of the tunnel. but today i stand on top of a cliff , not looking at the ever horrifying depth that lies beneath but the vast ocean of stars that line the sky signalling the promise that even the darknest nights do hold something beautiful. 

hardships in our life are inevitable. but how we deal with those hardships define our character and who we truly are as people. sometimes it feels so difficult to stand through an angry ocean of calamities but we often forget that the deepest darkest oceans hold the most vast treasures. treasures of hope, of success , of happiness , and of love. 

most people argue that why do we live if we have to face so much trouble just to get through and make it through the night when the next day is yet another struggle. my argument is always, why not. there are billions of people in the world who live through so much hell and yet they find a reason to smile, to live. the stress is on "find". "finding" is a struggle, it means when there is pain, you look for the good in life. you look for a simple piece of your existence that makes you happy, even if its just for a little while, its something.

When we are handed a hardship we always say "why me" , but we never really look around and actually see that every single person in this world has troubles. no matter how glamourous , how charming , how comfortable their life looks from afar, whenever you step close, you always see the little cracks in the perfect glass house which are only visible on deep inspection. every being that has lived, has had their own world filled with their own kind of imperfections. 

than why do we always look at those who from our standards have it better than us? why dont we look at those who have it worse? most people say why shouldnt i look at the better ones, but my argument is always reliant on the fact that in our hand only lies actions, results of our actions are never in our hands. than why not find contentment in our own little house , our own broken car, our own torn clothes rather than feeling contempt for those who we think have it better than us. why not? 

Thursday, 20 November 2014

binding chains of life....

as i look around my life, 
i see cages incarnate, 

obligations and trust wrapped around,
my hopes and dreams, making them rust,

chains of responsibility, 
suffocate my sensibilities, 

fantasies of what could be, 
shattered by what must be,

i look around and see people,
people, with bigger chains, harsher pains,

i pick up the pieces of my dreams, 
hoping to stitch them with new seams, 

i thread back my hopes, 
dreaming for freedom anew,  

silent tears fall for my fate, 
silent pain throbs for my cages gate, 

i must be, what i must be, 
maybe someday, I will be, what i wish to be......

if someday we meet.....

someday when i will meet you i will tell you my story 

i will tell you about the time i got wings and flew towards the clouds 
i will tell you about the time i went mad and broke everything made of fire
i will tell you about the time i was happy and painted everything black
i will tell you about the time i realized im amazing and cried the whole night
i will tell you about the time i found you , and didnt know a thing about u 
i will telll you about the time i was sad and went crazy laughing
i will tell you about the time i was so heart broken , i couldnt breath 
i will tell you about the time i saw the most beautiful sunset and felt so alone
i will tell you about the time i realized there is magic all around me and i just have to move closer and see it 

but then again ... maybe someday , when i'll fall in love with you 

i will show you the magic in a simple drop of rain 
i will show you the magic in a simple snow flake
i will show you the magic in that simple smlie
i will show you the magic in a single petal of rose
i will show you the magic in that single moment in the night
i will show you the magic in sitting alone and listening to just mere silence

but maybe someday ....if we meet .... i'll show you what life is all about .... 

The devil within .....

As I look out the window of my broken dreams 
I see dark shadows and ripped seams

As I sit on my chair and look into my soul 
I see darkness and demons that are born

As i contemplate the ruthlessness of my destiny
I am burdened by the malevolence of my testimony 

As I hold my pen to fill my journal 
I am struck by the intensity of my evil 

As the curtain of my fate falls
I realize the cruelty of my intentions 

As I look back and wonder where my innocence has gone
I realize the fire of my sins dissolved it all ....


Wednesday, 19 November 2014

broken memories.....

as i look at the ashes of my memories,
i stand and see a raging fire,

the broken promises, the lost dreams,
the embers of hope,
and my bellowing screams,

what i had envisioned, 
and what manifested,

the crumbled , shattered illusions, 
the tall towering scraps of delusions, 

what once was a promising journey,
was now a cage of despondence, 

what once was filled with miracles,
was now but a pit of despair, 


Tuesday, 18 November 2014

my purgatory, my fate...

as i dream of her beauty,
my heart breaks,

as i look back at my life,
my senses evade,

as i dream of what could be,
my heart breaks,

as i wake up to reality,
my soul evades,

as i see my empty hands,
my heart breaks,

as i envision those beautiful eyes,
my reality deteriorates,

i am the man i am, 
she made me who i am,

i was a dried up quill,
she filled my heart with her loves ink,

i was a lost soul,
she found me and held me close,

i was a ruthless assasin,
she forgave me and cleansed my sins,

i was forever condemned,
she was my redemption,

i pray to God,
to give her back,

he laughs at me,
and my worlds crack,

i was lost in my purgatory,
and now it welcomes me back.....