Victim of time

(OK .... people I know I have been a lazy bumbitch.... and frankly speaking I wasn't even busy.....well…..I was a little bit ...planning a trip though.... So I already posted this poem on my poetry blog, but still I am posting it here: Hopefully I should be back in a week’s time unless some pilot decides to take a nap in the cockpit. Million other things can happen to a plane... but then I get scared anyways....always.....)

I think dying in a plane crash is really the worst kindda death….. but I think I am going to quote the closing monologue of American Beauty:

I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches forever, like an ocean of time....for me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout Camp, watching falling stars...and yellow leaves, from the maple trees that lined our street...Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper...and the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird. And Janie...and Janie. ..And…..Carolyn…. I guess I could be really pissed off about what happened to me...but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst...and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... You will someday.

How it passes

And what it does

To people

Once kids

Then boys and girls

Then men and women

The core

And the shell,

Question?

And silently answer, repel

Run and cry

Vision and then the eyes

It is named time

A futile power

A living dead

And a deceitful truth

They say

No point in holding on to it

Repeat and memorize

Daily once, twice, thrice

But Oh! The beauty

That passed by

Still blinks in my wet eyes

People named friends

Those days and trends

That garden and those benches

Still….. still….

A few certificates

Remind me of my victory

And their defeat

Prize money is all spent

That time is dead

Not even a year old

In this new world

Everybody inquires

Of my past life

And secretly laugh

When I turn my eyes

These photographs

Are deep

An ocean of time

Like two Samosa’s

Dipped in coconut chutney

Or a bottle of soft drink

That passed till last sip

See them

A lot more

Is beneath them

A tranquil layer of vodka,

Lime, ice and a pinch of salt,

The froth of beer,

Aroma of the coffee,

In million card houses.

Sound of music,

Debates on feminism,

Chains of smoke,

Libraries and their ambiance

Hugs and kisses,

Diary entries and dope,

Rushing to the college

To show what you wrote.

A car accident,

When we were broke.

Losing control, after 8 P.M

Sleeping in the girls’ room.

Rain in the desert,

Full moon in the bathtub,

The kurta with the shloks

The teachers who became friends,

That bonfire and the holy smoke

Ashes and dew drops

Think about them

So….. many

So many moments

Make these photographs

Always remember

It’s just me

Another victim of time

P.S: About the tags....I will do them once I am back....happy holidays to me ...so much tequila is waiting for me...