Sunday, December 2, 2012

In my own world, on my own...

A new beginning... or a new end,
you tell me, but I forget,
when words don't flow, I prefer silence,
in my own world, on my own.

I look around, and everything is bland,
everything is cold, everything is sad,
when messages can't be conveyed, I prefer hints,
in my own world, on my own.

I question myself, what's the hidden meaning?
What's the reason, there has to be something,
when questions aren't answered, I prefer not asking,
in my own world, on my own.

So sudden this transformation, where nothing else matters,
the earth spins round, but the soul inside shatters,
when the effects don't want to be noticed, I prefer hiding,
in my own world, on my own.

But the world's moving forward, how fast it is,
but I'm stationary, like glue stuck to my feet,
when nothing makes sense, I prefer not writing,
in my own world, on my own.

And yet here I am, trying to pen a part of me,
for an angel somewhere, under the same sky we exist,
when I thought my inspiration was lost, my preference was refreshed,
and so I write this poem here,
in my own world, on my own...

P.S.: I realised it later, the date below reads 12/02/2012. 1202 2012!

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Bankster - Blogadda Book Review




‘The Bankster’ is the first and the only book by Ravi Subramanian that I’ve read and I must say that the book impressed me to the point that I might consider it apt even for the international audiences (P.S. that’s a huge thing for me to say given the fact that I’m not easily impressed!). I read the synopsis on BlogAdda and I thought to myself, okay so this is a financial thriller. Thrillers are thrilling if they have a thrilling plot and if executed thrillingly. And I wanted to see how thrilling this thriller would be!

So, starting with the cover, while the colour tones are justly used, the ‘bankster’ does not really prove a very smart point. He looks more like an African-meets-Jat-lost-his-way-and-wound-up-in-the-drugs-cartel-business-who’s-planted-in-a-bank and the bank now appears to be a Mecca of all things drugs instead of banking. Plus the gloss on everything but the sky would have otherwise proved to be a good combo but on this cover, the gloss is just too glaring! It probably would have looked better had everything been matte with the current glossy bits embossed in matte. So you get my point, right? Not a big fan of the cover.

Moving on, when I started reading the book, the interest was slowly piling on. It was unexpected and I was glad the turn of events in the book, however strong in bits and stretched at some points, was managing to keep me glued on to read further.

The book showcases two parallel stories essentially but the foundation was laid with an entirely separate story (which obviously had to be connected somehow in the end). On one hand we have an international bank – Greater Boston Global Bank (GB2) and the mysterious things going on in and around its Mumbai HQ; affecting the lives of various key employees – like taking their lives! On the other hand, we have a senior citizen in Devikulam, protesting against the Trikakulam Nuclear Power Plant on behalf of the public whose lives were at stake. Mid-way of the book, there sprung the protagonist Karan Panjabi, a press reporter and an ex-GB2 banker, who acts as a link between the two stories, puts his investigative mind to work, cracks the case of the killings and in-turn brings both the stories to a conclusive end.

Now, the stories reveal a lot of short events, one after the other, from one chapter to another. Some of them are really interesting and important too, but some are just not required. One can easily relate to the internal workings of the bank if one’s got a commerce background or has worked on projects for similar banks. Since I belong to both the categories, I could easily understand and relate well with everything and that kept me further interested. While the suspense is efficiently built page-by-page (and there were moments when I wanted to know what happens next), the climax didn’t pop-up in your face in as surprising and shocking a manner as it should have. Some of the justifications given by some of the characters to support their conclusions (which are the right ones) by way of dialogues are just too irritating at times. I mean would you just come to the direct point?! It felt as if the whole explanation’s going round and round, yes, a merry-go-round!

The language is simple for easy read. But there sure are a lot of typos and mistakes. I guess proofreading is a common problem in all the publications. Apart from that, this book exceeds most of the books that I’ve read by Indian authors in all these years. A book you can carry anywhere and read anytime.




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Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The 'writer's' 'words'...

A message was waiting for me,
I, like always, couldn't wait to read it,
if there was an imaginary horse, I was on it,
on my way to see what the message was about.

I read, and read, and read till the end,
realising every bit along the way its meaning,
the words, the silence, they were mine to keep,
they were mine, solely mine.

There was pain, a lot of pain,
and strength, a lot of it,
that the words carried all throughout,
but it was an attempt to instil hope in me.

I was touched, very deeply so,
the message became special to me,
one that I will keep close to my heart,
one that the world can keep conjecturing,
but one that only I know why so close.

I can't do what the words ask me to do,
it's something that just cannot be done,
those brave words must have required so much courage,
for them to be written like that.

If the 'words' and the 'writer' are meant to be together,
why is it so that we draw them apart?
why this separation, why this turmoil?
If the 'words' and the 'writer' are meant to be one.

To feel the 'words' again, the 'writer' awaits,
the world can shatter, but faith wants to stay,
and if the message were a person, we would be in an embrace,
for the emotions were so lovely, painful in bits, but special till the end.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Losing reality...

A dried pool, words don't flow,
The one who inspires, is not in sight,
She gave up on words, but here she is,
No where else to go, in such a time.

The world's narrowing down,
She barely feels the air,
What are these days?
She's never felt such before.

The dominos are continuing to fall,
She wonders what will be good?
For the dominos to keep falling perennially or for them to reach the end quickly,
In both the cases, damage and pain is all she can give and receive.

She writes what few words she can frame,
For she no longer is inclined to write,
But this last resort she was compelled to use,
And hopes to comprehend her spot.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

The Krishna Key - Blogadda Book Review


The Krishna Key. A yet another intriguing title from Ashwin Sanghi with a complementing colour scheme on the cover page gets your imagination working right away.

The plot revolves around Ravi Mohan Saini (the protagonist), a historian and Taarak Vakil, a serial killer and Mataji (the antagonists). Where the former is involved in searching for the five most important pieces of history and solving the mystery of if Krishna left some magical (read scientific) piece of the past that exists still today; the latter has some similar intentions, only a bit more violent. Through linking the story of the Mahabharata and Krishna’s role in the same with the present archaeological finds and places of the past, the protagonists and antagonists are shown linking every piece of the puzzle together, deducing the undecipherable, travelling to places of historical value to get answers while being continuously on the run from the police inspector Radhika, only to unravel some interesting twists.

The quest for finding the four seals (termed as the passport required to enter Krishna’s Dwarka in the ancient times) and the baseplate for the seals as left by Anil Varshney with his four friends (one of them being Ravi Mohan Saini) before his death in order to unlock the ultimate location of Krishna’s ‘most prized possession’ takes Ravi Saini on a journey of a lifetime from Somnath to Mount Kailash.

While the book can definitely be considered as a work of extensive research and careful descriptions, sadly it can only be termed that; the most important reason being one character of the past linked to another and another and so on and so forth till you reach a full circle and the end of the book. TMI (In case you are wondering what that is, Too Much Information)! Somewhere I could not see the marriage of the rich historical notes and the current storyline. Every character seems to have too much knowledge of everything related to the Krishna Key. This, for me, brought all the characters on par with each other and every character lost its importance altogether. They all definitely appeared to be fighting for the limelight! Interaction between the characters became more of a lecture series throughout the book and with so much information on a continuous roll being imparted, you tend to lose significant interest. That does not mean that the strings of history have not been appropriately utilized at all! The way the protagonist solves the clues and decodes the inscriptions and codes are interesting but there’s just too much of that in the book! At some places it appeared less of a fiction novel and more like Chariots of the Gods’ type.

A nice touch to the book was the usage of pictorial depictions in-between to aid a better comprehension of what the clues are talking about. With that said, the climax is a disappointment. More so because the entire book has been making so many references to historical people like Ghazni and places like Mohenjodaro, and Vedas and books and what not, that the ultimate answer lost all its importance. This book has been in-line with the previous style of the book i.e. Chanakya’s Chant as far as the back and forth movement of mythology and contemporary period is concerned. Having liked Chanakya’s Chant (and impressed by it too!), the expectations from The Krishna Key were on similar lines, but I guess Ashwin delved way too much in his research. Overall, I think people will anyways go ahead and read the book because one cannot miss out on an Ashwin Sanghi book even though he’s just three books old.

This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Fractured Legend - Blogadda Book Review



‘Fractured Legend' is a loosely woven novel consisting of three short stories tied together with three female protagonists in each of the stories. The first story titled ‘Slave’ is a story of Priyambada, an immortal temple slave who is a rock by day and a girl in flesh and bones by night, along with other temple slaves. They reside in dilapidated temples and aren’t the only set of such rock-turning-flesh people alive. Priyambada renounces this life of immortality and monotonous slavery for a life in flesh. The second story titled ‘Manuscript’ revolves around an assassin called Nandhini who’s been hired to retrieve a manuscript. Not only that, but the story also talks about her life and hardships that she has endured till date. The final story ‘A Very Long Letter’ talks about Pravalli, a daughter, who is writing a very long letter (indeed) to her mother (who’s alive probably but not around) about a few things she’s angry about regarding her mother; a few things she did not understand over the years until the ultimate moment.

The book fairs somewhat averagely. While the plots were somewhat interesting, they were pretty much on a one-track road. Kranthi Askani, the writer, has used more similes and metaphors than one would imagine to use in an entire lifetime! While the language was moderately good (with a few words like deliquesce, vamoose, crepuscular, etc being repeated way too much) – barring a few grammatical errors and missing words (being a proof-reader it’s hard for me to not get my attention towards things like these), the descriptions would take forever to complete! The focus somehow appeared to have been shifted from the main flow of the story to describing things (that, in such short stories or a novel of this size, is required  to help the readers be able to imagine the scenes and the characters - but in minimum proportions) that take on for eternity without providing much support to the important story. Quite honestly, I couldn't understand why some things were described at all?! They weren't bringing any substance to the stories.

The second half of every story lost its charm and drifted more towards profound wanderings of the mind. All this looks good on a blog or in a psychology book (this latter is meant to be a compliment), but when you have a novel of just 190 pages, one needs to focus more on the stories to make it more interesting rather than give a psychology lecture in the form of three protagonists; even though that might be the intent. As far as a guy writing on behalf of a girl (in this case – girls) is concerned, it’s considered to be a difficult task as it is. I’ve read books written by men with female protagonists, and let me tell you that this book could not fulfill its aim. It did not appear as if a girl was telling her tale in the first story, however, as and how it moved on to the final story, it appeared a tad believable if not at all.

In short, Fractured Legend really is fractured in bits and parts. The concept was good but it would have been better had the thin thread that tied all the three stories together be given more importance or limelight and if there was more of supplementing and parallel stories instead of just things and people being described.


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Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Zomato Restaurant Guide 2012 - Blogadda Book review

‘Zomato Restaurant Guide 2012’ is a restaurant guide based on categorical segmentation. The first-ever restaurant guide by Zomato (website: www.zomato.com) is an easy-to-use reference guide.
Divided into 22 categories; some of them being  Asian & Oriental, Best Wine List, Casual Dining, Girls’ Night Out, Late Nighters, Italian & European, Pure Vegetarian, Sea Facing, Desserts & Bakes, Notables, Romantic Dinner, Dining with kids, etc; the guide entails a smooth navigation throughout the pages. The guide starts with an introductory page about Zomato and the need for this guide. One very interesting and helpful page is the ‘Using the Guide’ page. It explains the different parameters which every short listing exhibits along with the different sections for the detailed listing of the same restaurants. The short listing enables you to take a quick glance over a restaurant with the Restaurant Name, Page No. for Restaurant Details, Typical Cost, Icons (Pure Veg or Non-Veg, Dine-in, Delivery, Bar, Credit Card), Category it belongs to and its Location. A more detailed listing gives you the Restaurant Name, its Phone Number, its Address, Description (that talks about the type of Cuisine it serves, the Typical Cost and the Restaurant Timings). It also has a QR code for those who want a quick look at the restaurant menu on-the-go on their smartphones. Since Zomato has a tie-up with Citibank, the Citibank customers can avail of additional discounts on various restaurants and the same has been mentioned in the listings wherever eligible. The listing also has a Reviews snippet which displays an excerpted review from the website. And the final feature of the listing is a ‘Special Features’ box which lists out dishes that one shouldn’t miss out on while there.
You can find casual and notable restaurants like Moshe’s, Flamboyante, Pizza by the Bay, IceQube, Gadda Da Vida, Quattro, The Blue Frog, Frangipani, Café Mondegar, Haagen Dazs and the likes. At the end before the ‘end’, you have a one-page listing on ‘Restaurants You Just Cannot Miss’ which lists food joints like Birdy’s, McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Barista Lavazza Espresso Bar, Natural Ice Cream and the ilk. And finally you have the Index giving you an alphabetical-order-wise listings of all the restaurants featured in the guide for an easy reference; followed by eligible restaurants for Citibank Discounts.
So on and all, it appears to be a quick-to-look-at guide. One of the nicest features of the book is a few blank pages at the end for Notes which actually is quite helpful. The only two dislikes in the guide is: one – the graphical restaurants ads at the beginning, the end and somewhere in between which lend an almost tacky feel to the entire guide – but then hey, ads get revenue, right? The other thing that Zomato could improve upon is the Special Features box i.e. the Don’t Miss box. Instead of listing just the best dishes from a restaurant (which mostly is non-veg), they can add a few dishes for the vegetarians as well and provide a clear demarcation for the same (because a lot of vegetarians do visit non-veg restaurants too given the high standard of living now). Apart from that, a good job by Zomato.


This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

The struggle of every stone!




Amongst the million faces that we see everyday, how many do we actually recognise? 
Every single person, hiding a tale, every single person withstanding some pain. You can understand only what a stranger wants you to understand. Masking the burden with a true smile, a simple cover to hide the true identity of their pain. 

And yet, every single shadow is different. Every person has a different pain. A pain more or less exclusive to that person. A pain people need to endure and rise up from. A pain that no matter what you do, will be healed only when the person is truly ready to face and overcome it. And no one knows how long will that take... a month, a year, a decade? And it's so amazing that no matter what the materialistic world offers on the outside, your heart knows what it's holding on to - just like a jewellery box - all the precious jewels and ornaments kept safely inside to save them from the outside damages; but what about the damage caused when two jewellery pieces of distinct nature rub against each other in that same jewellery box? Our heart is like a jewellery box too. It does the same! Keeping precious memories and feelings inside it, safe from the outside world that doesn't understand it and always having two different memories brush against each other. But how long can you hold on? Until it's time to let go. Until it's always a time to let go. 

But the things that no one can take away from you - the memories that you created, the memories that were given to you, your feelings, your emotions, your sentiments attached - will always surround you - outside and inside your heart - governing your behaviour psychologically. How much of it do we actually realise? Caught up in the busy world, if only people would stop and think about it...

I talk about those that don't fall in the common category of easy living and smooth-sailing life. It's all about the people to whom life means something and living means a little more than something. Every stone endures the changing season, the rough path, the company of hostile companions, the demeaning treatment received by strangers and kins alike - a stone. Always in search of a destination. Always settings examples. All you need to do is look. Look at the story of every pebble, rock, stone. And then look at your own story. Nothing will be the same. Every stone has a different story to share, all it requires is someone to hear it out! Can you relate?

Thursday, May 31, 2012

The cloak of a cloche!


Ashes strewn around,
embers falling off,
plastic flowers around,
losing their scent again.

Halo splits up,
trident goes underground,
water fists around,
livid gaze stares.

Coagulated in time,
keeping my blinders on,
thoughts get wet,
running in a loop.

Evading haphazardly,
only to fall down,
open fists, open invisibility,
a tornado spins around.

Uncontrollable fire,
burning from within,
chortling with pain,
falling with a din.

Worry, numbness, scattered spark,
racing ahead, racing to leave time,
darkness enters, bland walks,
all under the cloak of a cloche!

Monday, May 21, 2012

One last time-part 2

 Read 'One last time' - Part 1



This familiar city, this sweet tantalising fragrance, this cool breeze, these talking waters... Been 5 years now... and nothing had changed. Everything was just as she had left it... except...

      Seated on the bench watching the hustle and bustle of the water, listening to the soothing music of the breaking waves and sitting amidst a grey ambiance with strangers everywhere, she was loving the rainy environment. Reminiscing on the past, trying to let go things off her hands, she still had a smile on her face... smiling just to be back home.

     Having derived enough pleasure on her first day of being back, she got up, took a deep breath of gratitude and decided to leave. Little did she know what or rather who would welcome her back, she turned and bumped into someone... a familiar stranger.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said without looking at who it was.

"But I'm not," came a cocky reply.

"Excuse me," she said in alien amazement and looked up.

That familiar face, that familiar tone, that warm smile, that mysterious glint in his eyes, that kid always jumping somewhere inside of him... it is him... after all these years... it's him.

"Excused...not...not this time," he said mockingly and hugged her tightly.

"Whoa. Daniel? Uhm how are you?" she asked, her eyes fixed at him as if no one else existed around them.

"I have been good, you tell me. It's been quite some years... you haven't changed a bit. How's your uhm better half?" he asked with a visible hesitancy.

"Yeah well, change is not always visible," she replied with a lost grin, "and he's... he's doing... good, yeah, how is your girlfriend doing?" she indicated looking at the girl standing next to him talking on the phone.

He was so lost in gazing at her that he had almost forgotten who he was standing with.

"Oh hey, this is... this is my... girlfriend, Jenna.. who is obviously on a call right now," he added when Jenna gave him a stern look while on call.

Wow, hah so he finally has a girlfriend. Well great, so we weren't meant for each other after all... thought Emma. Meanwhile, Jenna got off the phone and greeted Emma in an I-don't-know-what-went-on-here kind of manner. Feeling awkward herself, Emma thought of leaving his sight as soon as possible to avoid any more interrogation by him about her past five years.

"So I guess I should be leaving now, it's getting late and the weather looks pretty angry," she said.

"Yeah I guess the weather understands the situation too," he said sarcastically while hinting on the emotion they had last left on before she got... married.

Jenna unable to comprehend what was going on, tried to handle the situation and interrupted in between by wishing Emma goodbuhbye.

"So where should I call you now? You know, just to catch up and all?" he kind of called out to Emma when she started to leave.

"Uhm I still haven't taken a number. So why don't you give me your number and I'll contact you. How 'bout that?" she said.

He agreed and took a card out from his jacket and handed to her. Their fingers touched, cold, soft, warm... A tingling sensation ran through both of their bodies. It felt magical, mysterious... something felt different and yet something ignited the feelings that were lost in their hearts.

"Your girlfriend :@?!" said Jenna while spanking Daniel on his head when Emma was gone.

"I'm your cousin r-e-m-e-m-b-e-r," she said in sheer amusement. But all Daniel could manage was a smile in front of Jenna; trying to get a hold of his racing heart.

Emma reached home but couldn't stop thinking about him... Daniel... he's... he's... grown... and he looks mature :S?! she couldn't help but smile. She looked at his card on the bed, but she didn't want to call him. She felt uncomfortable, an alien in his territory. It's not like the old days any more, times have changed, status of their relation has changed too, she thought.


 Read 'One last time' - Part 1

Friday, May 11, 2012

The Devotion of Suspect X - Blogadda Book review



The title sounds like a total mis-match. I mean one would think what the hell is ‘Suspect X’? And what’s ‘Devotion’ got to do with the story and the title. And you wouldn’t really be able to fathom the true meaning of the title until you are a little more than half way through the book. I think that’s the beauty of an interesting book.


‘The Devotion of Suspect X’ was actually written in 2005 in Japanese by Keigo Higashino, but it was translated and printed in English in 2011. The main characters are Yasuko Hanaoka – the female protagonist, Misato Hanaoka – Yasuko’s daughter, Shinji Togashi – Yasuko’s abusive ex-husband, Tetsuya Ishigami – Yasuko’s neighbour, a brilliant mathematician and ardently in love with Yasuko, Manabu Yukawa – a physicist (more like a Japanese version of Sherlock Holmes) and an ex-classmate and long-lost friend of Ishigami, Shunpei Kusanagi – a detective (a Japanese version where Watson-meets-Lestrade) and Yukawa’s friend; and of course Kudo – Yasuko’s love interest in the book. I know the names have a funny sound to them (but hey it’s Japanese!!! What do you expect?!) and they prove more like a tongue twister than anything else.


Anyways, so the story starts with Yasuko and Ishigami shown living their routine lives, doing their routine chores when suddenly one day Togashi finds out where Yasuko is. He comes back in her life and in an attempt of a desperate freedom from Togashi, Misato and Yasuko end up killing Togashi. Ishigami – their next door neighbour deduces all of this through noises and conjecture and offers to help the mother and daughter with the murder and the body. This might appear as any other murder-mystery novel but that’s when it gets better. Every crumble of clue left in the path leading to Togashi’s murder, sends Yukawa and Kusanagi into a spiraling confusion as to who did kill Togashi. Ishigami’s character is shown using his brilliance, his logical and analytical mathematician brain and his intelligence to not only hide the murder and keep the Hanaokas’ clear of Togashi’s murder, but also plants and plans the entire sequence of investigation in such a manner so as to let the detectives and the physicist think and believe only what Ishigami wanted them to think and believe. The anti-climax was very predictable but it was the climax that was the brûlée on the crème! The murder-mystery was solved – all thanks to Japanese Sherlock Holmes – Mr. Yukawa!


So on and all, it was a nice read. Interesting on the whole and very intense and gloomy. The devotion of suspect X was aptly brought out in the book. I’m glad it wasn’t a kiddish and yet-another investigative-mystery book with no strong plot and no gripping supportive clues and misleading paths. But every book has its cons. The story in between felt like a drag, a bore and felt as if it was being stretched again and again like noodle dough being twisted and turned incessantly to make noodles. I almost, as if talking to the book, said ‘Just come to the point, will you?’ I think since this book was meant to be so intelligently intense towards the end, a fleeting humour here and there would’ve helped to hold on to the book a bit better. And the cover of the book – please, if you are depicting your female protagonist to be beautiful, admirer-gatherer and timid – the least you could do is create a cover and get a model that fits the bill!

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Monday, May 7, 2012

A dour abyss...

 
You think you might know,
but you are proved wrong,
you think you might believe,
but your sanity is long gone.

You think you might yell,
but you stop your own self,
you think you might fall,
but you have nothing more to lose.

You think you might wallow,
but you are already rolling,
you think you might dissipate,
but you are already fragmented from within.

You think you might drown,
but you are already, in your tears,
you think you might burst,
but you have collisions every day.

You think you might swallow,
but your pain resides in you,
you think you might trip,
but you are waiting for it.

You think you might surrender,
but you still stand tall,
you think you might leave,
but you are held by something small.

You can think and think and think and think,
but you can't do a thing,
because you are stuck in a puddle of black,
where redeeming is only resulting in drowning.

And the threads will break one day,
the force will reclaim its hand,
the safety net will be reduced to tatters,
the leash will be sent back to hell.

And you will appear to have moved on,
when you think all of it has happened,
but the remnants will stay in the quick sand,
where the threads, the force, the safety net and the leash will still exist.

Living with something that will never happen,
is a hill, a grey cloud, a pain unbearable,
living without something that will never happen any more,
is a chasm, a mountain, a dormant thunderstorm, an agony.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Fading again...


 
And so my thought gets firmer by the day,
I shouldn't have been born, it gets harder everyday,
the disappointment, the sadness, the bitterness that stares,
right into my eyes, and tears fall down.

But now the sour water doesn't even matter,
they're a habit, a natural reflex,
when the pain has no other outlet,
and no other can even be a solution.

I feel restless, I can't do a thing,
I run helter-skelter in my mind, only to find something,
an answer, a solution, a happiness perhaps,
to set things right, that I could never accomplish at all.

And I feel angry, but the love is more stronger,
I feel weak, like a zombie when attacked,
no strength to comprehend, what goes wrong all the time,
when happiness is replaced by pain, I'm only to be blamed.

I can't go there, and I can't stay here,
I can't fight any more, and I can't surrender either,
though my ego I have killed, and my feelings I have supported,
and my brain I have abandoned, and my heart I have encouraged.

And it's a chaos inside of me, that no one can fathom,
if only my words wouldn't have left me, I could have described,
the blow on my soul, that I experience,
on the quest to make you happy, but I can't do even that.

You are my support, my happiness is with you,
the words that you say, you don't realise how much they hurt,
it feels like my soul gets slapped, and falls sick,
when all we want is, to be happy together.

Coz you matter to me, more than any one can ever imagine,
and you love me so much more than any one can even guess,
our bond is weird, the connection even strange,
and time is of constraint here, it's not a luxury for us,
but why all this? Am I so pathetic?

And here I'm alone, my thoughts to myself,
trying to cope up, with these nuances of life,
transfixed and unable to talk, and just want to crawl up,
and go into hiding forever.

Coz I can't explain, my plight as such,
I only wish today again, that I wasn't born ever,
a living disappointment that is incomprehensible,
lifeless again, but it doesn't even matter.