Posts Tagged ‘love’
Again
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Again
the heart is broken
in thousands pieces, she says
and this time
there is no turning back
this is no hole, she sighs, to fill up
this is a big crack.
Again
across the window
I see things that glow
angels flying down to take me, she says
I’m going away, farther than you can reach
time and again, I tried to repair
nothing touches me now, no love, no beseech.
Again
I sweep the floor
dirt and tears come along
I know what to do
get a box and fix it up with some glue
you can’t fix it, don’t you see,
she growls, you can’t un-rape me.
Lost and never found
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All that I am or I pretend
sullen dreams of bleak end
Lost and never found
fallen leaves on the ground
Truth is a lie in disguise
solemn words of a skewed voice
Flowers sprawled by the riverbed
roots entangled into the mud
I seek love and love seeks a clown
run away before you’re drowned
Like a thunder in a rainy night
Like a thunder in a rainy night,
Who doesn’t know, what t’show, what’hide.
You seem to be asking every moment,
Baby, you wanna stop, or take’ride.
You never open the door by my side,
Never step out to say, goodbye.
Never see a drop when I cry,
How could it go when you always keep me so dry…
I know I am gonna miss you
And it’s going to hurt…but I am sure to do
I’m gonna teach myself how to fly
And catch a cloud to drift away
O baby don’t pretend,
You wouldn’t die
The pain will pass through…
Pull over here and bid me adieu.
wo lamhe
I am borrowing ideas these days; nothing left with of my own. It’s a translation of a Hindi song I am listening to for almost all the time these days.
Let’ go home, my love!
Let’ go home, my love!
Let’s walk to a lonesome place,
empty of city’s rush,
of these thousands of people, and their pace.
For a while, you, take me away,
Let’ go home, my love!
Let’ go home, my love!Come close, close to me,
Bridge the distance, whatever may it be.
Hold me; diffuse inside.
Hug me; unto our hearts.
Drown me, into your love endless,
End the tortures of lone nights.
Break the chains, and their rules,
Come close to me, into me.
Let’ go home, my love!
Let’ go home, my love!
Original Lyrics:
na jaha bheed ho.
na jahan bhar ke log.
na shaher mein base lakhon logon ka shor.
chand lamhe tu inse mujhe durr kar.
chal chale apne ghar, hummsafarduriyan de mita, jo bhi hai darmiyan.
aaj kuch aise mil, ek ho jaye jaan.
bhar mujhe baahon mein. le duba chahaon mein..
pyar kar tu bepanah…khatam bechain raaton ke ho silsile..
yun laga le aaj apne gale..
thod har bandishein, aaj mujh me utar.
make me free…!
Make me free
Make me fly
high high high
high in the
sky!
Angels Angels
take me away
with you
far far far
far-beyond the blue
sky!
My throat is chocked
My things are done.
I am in the queue
waiting my turn.
I look,
now
past my past,
and find the brightest
of my moment
bidding me, and
cry!
Choose me.
Choose me.
Don’t leave me,
dry!
No pain
No joy
and not a certainty
of life or love
there I will
die!
Dreams chase me here,
Hopes cage me here
and I fall short of breathe
gasping,
I utter my finality
slowly, closing my
eye!
I hesitated
I hesitated
the first time,
I took you in my arm,
And the first bow
I hit
At your green charm.
I fumbled in the dark
Around you,
the first time
I entered you.
I hesitated
in believing
what was true,
in the light far
far-inside you.
And when I came out,
I couldn’t un-enter you.
indeed I could not.
Living inside-out
or altogether in?
it’s only you
wherever I’ve been.
The strings
you tied the first time,
time when I hesitated
hangs around
telling tales-of-your-love,
Your light
brightens up my day,
outliving the sun
shines my way,
in little sparks, in its play.
I hesitated then,
to accept it.
I hesitate now,
to acknowledge it.
My hesitation is my proof
of my naivety.
Your acceptation of me,
of your nicety.
Love is not in making it believe,
Love is in believing in it to conceive.
“I love you” I say
“Me too love you” I receive.
That’s a big thing to say,
b’cos love is not an easy play.
surprise…surprise…’I Love you’
“I love you.” He said, “I mean I love talking to you.” oh! But things were conveyed, said, and the mask was discarded.
Surprise…yes…else how would you lose your heart beats; how would you find yourself flummoxed over a relation that is only a few days, or rather few hours – can I say, old yet few lifetimes seem engulfed in it; how would you lose your control to control your thoughts, feelings, rationalities, and all your expedient plans for your life, your future and end up falling in love with a person you barely know, except of some kind of illusionary connection, attachment screaming: you-are-made-for-each-other. This is how miracles happen. This is how you are taken by surprise and thrown up, upbeat, buoyant, among those sparkling, blissful stars. And you realize – yes! – this is what you were waiting for so long, for all your life, passing through so many mundane day-today-ness that you had almost forgotten about it. So, a miracle was needed. A surprise was needed.
“Life is made of crisscross squares. And every cross has its own rule.” When you cover a long distance in just few hours, blink-now-at-moon-blink-again-back-on-earth, as if some infinitely powerful gadget has ordered time to stop, or as if you are made less aware of time as it passes by, whatever may it be, you lose the sense of time-and-space when you travel such an expeditious journey and finally in the end, you see things your eyes wouldn’t believe in, you feel feelings your heart wouldn’t give in, and the world would turn hazy, its eyes drooping, limping upon you, as though it hasn’t slept for nights awaiting your arrival. This is a strange thing to happen. But what else would you call a miracle then? Her world had roads, infinite roads, never ending, from one stop to another, all brief and straight, and today, after her long journey, she, anticipating yet another road to cross hers, grew little weary about losing grip over her own life. She had to make a decision, and making a decision is dangerous. She continued, “You have not seen me, do you realize it?” Why so many strange things were happening to him today? What realization could he achieve, had he seen her? How did she look, or how did she walk, or how did she dress up? Realization is a strange concept. Ah! “You haven’t understood me yet.” What else could he have replied?
Love, where it spawns, scatters a vague delusion around it. You wouldn’t understand what’s going on with you, so to ease you, love projects a special melodramatic show and you fall into its trap: make-believe trap. Besotted as they were, now for the making of love was on, they had to collaborate. The tongues were to slip, the covers were to unveil, the desires were to fly – the forbidden was to set free. Now there was no escape. Things started to swoop down on them, and they were dragged along. And words, those enchanting but interdicted words, came out, in shed, hidden behind a mask. And after a while when all covers matured redundant: “I love you.” He said, “I mean I love talking to you.” oh! But things were conveyed, said, and the mask was discarded.
It took her a while, however, to divulge the sudden spurt of her heart beating. And by the time, normalcy reigned again, she was in love. In spite of never having seen him, or talked to him, or heard his voice, or known his disposition, or read his past, present, in spite of everything that should have been done, as rules say, as the love-tomes say, as those deified lovers say, in spite of un-normalcy, of breach in traditions, she was in love. Love doesn’t ask what-where-how-why-who-when, it just takes you over and things are set. Just like that. Straight and simple! Until then silence prevailed above the fogged suddenness.
And after a brief pause, soundlessness, because a great many words, puissant words, efficacious words, capable of altering the course of stars as they fix their path with other stars, potent to make a life, were imminent, she replied, “I love you too.”
Surprise…was it a surprise?
“When did it start?”
“The day I read your poem for the first time, there was something terribly appealing, and I wished they were written for me.” It was now safe for her to travel back on time, and watch her past unveiling before her, telling tales of that turmoil she was in few days ago, revealing that feeling, that moment of utter confusion, that longing, that desire, that hope to herself, and find peace in the newly found love of her life. “I prayed it to come true.”
“And it did na?”
“Oh! I can’t express it, this is wonderful.”
And a story spawned from the there….
Though they say, everything is preplanned, peremptorily written, still, life doesn’t come to us like in a play a scene comes to an actor performing on stage, life has different rules; it takes us by surprise. That’s why life is alive. For so many years. And love too.