Om! vibes on the water lip - Love, Life &, well, err...laugh!
Welcome to my ‘Jam Pad’ – the only place where chock-a-blocks are appreciated!

Not that I create music here; but I shall try all I can to jazz you up; pop a couple of novice, jest-for-pun words to rock you out of your sanity; scratch the blues out of the mind, kicking to life the RIP rust lying there to bend you in the middle, one way or the other; and rap my invisible pen’s madcap toe in a desperate attempt to somehow touch a chord or two. All, in a hip hop with the tide of words that sometimes seeps on to the shore of my mind and sometimes in its grand elusiveness, flows back to its haven. Nevertheless, i shall go on relentlessly like the waves, inspired by the echoes of Om that mirrors Oneness.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Resolution of the 'Late' Mr.X with mistaken identity

3WW - Apology, Consider, Distant

He got off his bike and dashed to the facade of his work-house;
House, yes, he spent most of his time there keeping at
carving a place for himself in the corporate history,
to be known, to be seen, even from the moon...

His jog stance hardly matched his striking black formal suit
Otherwise a sucker for class, he could not thwart
the rather clumsy verb he was then indulged in
With only about five minutes to get to his office swipe point
style or even a drift that way seemed

He ignored the elevator and hopped up the stairs
Zipped past the receptionist, not forgetting to flash a smile
It was his way of expressing thanks to the silent,
amused one-man audience of his everyday nick-of-time drama

He skid to a stop at the door, knowing as he swiped
that all the tussle had been in vain, a speculator that he was,
by profession and now, out of a recessive kip,
late. By a cascaded minute; ‘Damn!!!!’ he whined, stopping abruptly
as if he would continue tomorrow..

He walked in, anyway; actually, that being the only way
With his feet not on the ground, almost
He got to his workstation in inconspicuous strides
a couple of minutes to settle in, to boot
For the next long minute he considered how his toil for identity
despite his versatility, people person-ness et al
was sidestepped by this period of effortless foot dragging.

He raised his bottle like a ritual and gulped down the water ,
feeling it slide down his throat, wetting the dryness
caused by a moisture less apology that was strewn by guilt
flushing down the vice that won today, again
in the race seeking to win the identity crisis;
the go-getter in him was NOT going to be known as the latecomer.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Dedicated to my 'body doubles', a.k.a., duos-in-perfect-positive-correlation

Prompt: A poem based on 'ode to the body'

Loyal couples on my body
So near, yet so far
from each other; even so
growing or getting smaller in happy duets
with nothing to choose between them
their sync keeps me ‘poised’ too!

* I am so glad that our hands, legs...get bigger or smaller in exactly similar proportions. Dare to imagine otherwise?! :)

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Am like a bird...

Monday Mural - Birds & Monday Poetry Train

I love to see the birds fly;
the family unions, the solitary soars
I shut my eyes, my imagination flying riot
and there I was, on cloud nine... literally

I bathed in the glory of infinite independence
It gave me a high; higher than any other
With no laid ways and no destination, I flew, on a mysteriously invisible path
that revealed itself up as I flew, for no one to follow

I flew a peacefully smooth, sweeping flight
with nothing to hold except my light self
I expected nothing too
and that nothingness was fulfilling, addictive...

Then they came - The clan.
Invites are not expressed in this world above the world
I joined them, aligning with their rhythm;
their peace and poise well preserved.

As we soared high like one family, we were so full
of easy, language-less harmony;
The world, with all its pain and glory, was under our feet
and was nothing much.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Smooth as silk

Sunday Scribblings - Sleep

Retiring after a hard day’s work, I glided on to the satin sheets of my bed
sleep craved, yet swirling and curling on the smooth covers of
the solo strife-less delight in my life
I felt dizzy; the lullaby of the velvety peace drowned
by the emotional turbulent ride I had had that day

I wondered how even a royal smoothness was not enough
to pamper me to slip into a state of blissful ignorance, a melting unconsciousness
And how even when in the thick of indulgence
I felt naked and exposed to the darkness;
the overpowering obscurity that scared me when I was awake

I was tired, mentally and physically; usually, getting to such a brink would do
The fall would occur by itself, as though some invisible guardian hands
gave me a soft nudge; where is my guardian today? Where are those motherly hands?
Oh, maybe those invisible hands haven’t recognised me yet
I was veiled, by the thoughts that disturbed my undisturbed fantasy

I undressed; stripping off the burdening veil with some difficulty
the estrangement disseminated into the darkness, losing its form
And there they were; those reassuring, motherly hands of hope
tenderly caressing my back, shaming my sleepless yearning

I silently and happily slid away from the spiny reality
falling into a deep, deep air of serenity;
Whispering a soft, slumbered thanks;
I drifted into a light nothingness, cocooned in the silky indulgence of hope for a brand new dawn..

* On teeth - an earlier post, courtesy the Sunday Scribblings 'Fridge Space' prompt (following the 'Too Late' post) - A Forthright Mock

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Stroke of Luck

Friday 5 - Skew, Foreign, Wailing, Travel, Arithmetic
Theme: Someone moves the end

The skew occurs every time
in her economics, with not one flattening twist
Still, the start recurs, religiously regular;
her travel to the casino covertly planned out
and all the moves-arithmetic flawlessly worked out
by our gullible beauty; and the hungry beasts
yet, again this time, devoured in a not-so-foreign fashion
Until her last wailing penny
And our lady as usual, felt that kick in the teeth
As though someone, from nowhere, moved the end;

Those flashy machines had taken her for a ride
one more time; but our lady is no dark horse
and she will not end her affair
with luck; she still strokes with fiscal feathers
those that glitters, those that will give her gold
play on, she will, until she gets too old..

* i do not gamble; i have only seen a casino when on a tour schedule! :) This is a totally imaginative poem; to give the readers a light, enjoyable read..hopefully that is!

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

My mind seems blank now...

Girlfriend? Well, I’ll try................ All that my mind sees now is a blinding whiteness, a blank that is crystal clear. No, I am not renouncing today’s prompt yet. I will persist my hunting for some connected image, verse, events – something, anything - even if suspended well over me, I will reach out; I am sure I can do better – but no, not a slight blurb, not even a silent fizz. I try seeking and the words dunk in the ether. Getting visibly invisible. Not that girlfriends are alien to me or that I have an alien for a girlfriend and THAT is a classified affair; but today, my psyche (that I always imagined I had) seems vague, pokerfaced & detached. Could it be because a lizard fell on me a couple of minutes back? Of all days, today(!!), when i am already dumbstruck by the elusive dream that I have been pursuing for years now; the dream that has so far remained only a dream... I shuddered for a moment before I could gather myself again and carry on to take a shot at today's 3WW prompt... (Ugh!!Damn it!! I HATE reptiles!)

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Unconscious Mutterings....not totally unconscious though

I say... and you think...? Week 262

  1. Score :: What's my blog score? Well, ok, let me not jump the gun... I shall wait until you are through with the whole wordy simulated footage. This ain’t even a teaser.
  2. Luxurious
    :: Right now, the distance between me & my man getting to a ruling zilch is more luxurious than the getting together of all luxuries in the world into one sugary swirl and it is the one luxury I ever, would ever want. With that in place, I do not mind if the other luxurious thingies in the world share a roof with me; I am generally a very generous soul.
  3. Party
    :: My sexy party bag, which I haven’t had a chance to use since I got it six months back... Moral of the story? Well, i just haven’t had the chance to make any waves! Blankness in the Page 3 of my life’s journal right now is the scoop & THAT is not even a typo!
  4. Limited edition
    :: Sheer class! Indulging exclusivity is my style preference. Strict NO to clones!! And hey, I am a glad ritzy limited edition too! (5’3’’ ONLY in this whole wide world & over!!)
  5. Security
    :: Made me rake my brain so much, this word...yet i feel totally blank...i can’t be bothered more.
  6. Betty
    :: One of my two best friends from college – beautiful Betty. One strong woman; stronger than she thinks she is. We live thousands of miles apart; yet whenever we meet it seems like a happy routine. Lovely wife, doting mom and to me...she’s a mind reader, propeller, my ego...She sort of seems to home a multiple personality disorder (!) only to whip me softly back to order. The possibilities of personality are endless & she never ceases to try. I love her for what she is. And yeah, the Management guy – how can i forget him, her romantic extension who’s turned this apparently hard-nut-to-crack rough chic a little bit slushy; kudos to him. He’s definitely come through as a most successful CEO. Yet, at home, it's not him at the top most rung neither it is Betty; their adorable chief keeps them on their toes - Rhea!
    The story is not complete without the soft, subtly sassy and sweet Gayu, the second best friend; second only in number & not in order. She & her man with a rehearsed, final cut smile, have recently brought this new package of a sweeter-than-sweet version of Gayu into this world – I am now a very happy friend; God bless them!
    Betty, Gayu & I - Someone once said, we were like Charlie’s Angels (ok, i admit, i said that!) – Betty playing the voluptuous Drew, Gayu playing Lucy Liu (it’s not only the rhyme in name, but the rhyme in the slender suaveness too!) & I would play Diaz, for no better reason than that it was the only possibility left out! I am from no angle whatsoever, comparable to Diaz or Diaz to me! (Remember the 'Limited Edition' secret?!!)
  7. Under construction
    :: My Love. For my family – present & future. Having the instinctive, inherent kit of beat & pulse, for laying a strong foundation, I will go on to leave no stone unturned in getting this concrete high, higher & higher & higher... My love is vastly spacious, accommodative, serviced, well ventilated, lush and lifts to a sky scraping high, perhaps even past the windows of Zeus.
  8. Pest
    :: Mosquitoes, dead & bloody on my skin – I killed them in a slap. Earlier, I used to feel very sorry not wanting to hit them; but now I have evolved & my survival instincts have taken over me. These rascals of suckers have pricked my peace out of me! Invaded my privacy, my flow of thoughts, don’t let me sleep or even lounge in peace, causing pain with no corresponding visible / even invisible gain & seem to be f***ing multiplying (pun intended!) by the nano second in our city – enough motive for a murderer! Is the mayor flipping (euphemism, you see...) anaemic or something? Or perhaps, an alien!
  9. Director :: I have got ten subjects on my cards. Atleast I thought so until I carefully watched myself typing (sometimes multi-tasking eludes me). It seems that only about half of the ten fingers are acting protagonists in my direction. (Well, it’s definitely better than before when I managed to direct only my middle fingers (for typing, that is!) and two other extras). Hope the resulting ‘simulated footage’ turns out a smash hit. Or am I being too ambitious here?
  10. Express :: Well, how (else) on earth do I express my love for my man to my family; for them to see it the way I do, as the best thing that has ever happened to me & earn their long awaited, much deserved approval?

Okay, IT'S A WRAP!

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Too Late

Sunday Scribblings - Fridge Space

I stood there glaring at the vacuum of separation, my vision dissolving in the icy sheets of void curled up into a closed resolute silo. Its nucleus, now heartless, seemed like a fridge space, chilling up to an unbearable seep of frozen air, taking marriage oaths with cold isolation. My body was filled up every cell with emptiness that seemed to have taken a peaceful slumber refuge in me. Time was lucently frozen, kind enough only to let me see through my broken past; the stormy turn when the sixth doctor confirmed that we could not have a baby. I had then got myself drowned in work, letting our punctured dream of a happy family, float above & not get anywhere near me. I went to almost insane lows of an escaping mirage; riding the cold waves of life with blinkers; unaware of our swerving paths. You perhaps yearned for love then, the love that had naturally mingled in you, pulsating life every inch of time. I let that love flow out of you slowly, swept by ignorant solitude. And when the last drop of promise quietly flowed out, you would have breathed your last. I seem dry now; I cannot cry. I pulled myself from the blank outside, turning inwards desperately searching for you. Thoughts sharper than the sharpest sword gouged through layers of my ashen flesh; the pain seemed a soothing friend, pouring unto my barren heart, a belated reminiscence of the love offspring that we had parented... She was there, right there with us, our baby; gurgling softly, playing & cuddling up joyously in the warm womb of our married hearts and I had unconsciously & inconsiderately swerved, hiding not be sought by surreal reality and in the haggle, ignorantly abandoned our baby in the deserted streets of oblivion. I had separated you from our family. And now, you have gone away in a pure embrace of unconsciousness to mother that oblivion, after years of devotedly & silently caring for me, leaving only a blinding white void for me to care for...

Ok, now, i hate to write sad, serious stuff. So, this silly re-take was irresistible - i HAD to make up ...

A Forthright Mock

My pearly white gates had a gap in between, with the taller pivotal twins in the centre literally being the cynosure. I liked their independent nature though - a resolute pair indeed; if they set themselves on something, you could definitely say they set their teeth on it! Quite inspiring, at times. They knew that I owned them; I could knock them off if they didn’t behave or annoyed me too much. Yet they would go on, unabashed, with their drools & scraping wordy endeavours. They always played good doubles – serving, scraping, biting & rabbitting on! Their attempts were sometimes complying & sometimes amusing, that is, if I am not in the bite-me-not mood. Today, these assertive iconoclasts seemd to be in their lazy best as they spun my words to the assistant architect - “we need to visit the bridge space before uploading stuff on to the site, lest that it gets overloaded”, to a mock feat; my lippy bunny teeth sounded out “we need to visit the fffridge spface fefore upfloading stuff on to the site, lest that it gets overloaded” and joined an amused assistant in looking ‘down’ on my arrogant paunch in silent giggles...

Thursday, February 7, 2008

The Mute Witness

3WW - Bridge, Disturbed, Still

Glittery, enlivener
Witnessing, understanding, uplifting
the bridge-walkers; sometimes disturbed yet