tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33708546073219987412024-02-29T05:13:51.387+05:30Dare to know the TruthThis blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes...Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.comBlogger188125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-52711502794509709832016-09-20T17:32:00.000+05:302016-09-20T17:32:19.909+05:30Rain Messenger's Diary 19...Letter to Annie 7<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Dear Annie,<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It has been ages since I last wrote to you. Every day when I
look around, there seems to be so many things to speak of or discuss but the
daily grind drains the wish out of me by the time I manage to get some time to
do so. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Nevertheless, I have managed to shed my lethargy and finally
write to you as I have been deeply disturbed over the past few weeks (months?).
Every day when I glance through the newspaper while sipping on my morning cup
of Darjeeling, I get depressed. Kashmir and more recently the Uri incidents
have left me feeling really empty. You know some random rioter in a so-called
urban posh Indian city actually felt he was better than “some random Kashmiri
stone-pelter” because he unlike the Kashmiri was “Indian”. Anyway, sorry I digress.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As usual, I wanted to offload my burden to you as who else
would have the patience to hear my ramble. The heightened rhetoric of
patriotism is really scary. We have alienated a large section of the populace
in Kashmir and now with the Uri incident the so-called enlightened internet
warriors are baying for blood. Cries for war and bombing our neighbouring state
fills my news feed and the posts are full of vitriol. Reading these leave me cold
every time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Annie, do we realise that this is not that simple or
desirable or in any way sensible? What do we really want – the death of hundreds
/ thousands of sons, daughters, brothers, husbands or wives guarding our
borders to avenge the 17? Am damn well sure none of the people who spew hatred
from the comfort of their homes using their top-notch smartphones / laptops
will go to sacrifice their precious lives. So we are happy to let others die
for us while we claim the baton of patriotism. How exactly are we better than
those who send suicide bombers in that case??<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I know, by now you must be itching to interrupt my rant to
tell me, so what do we do? Do we not avenge those who were killed? Do we not
make them pay? The answer unfortunately is also yes. It is high time that we do
take a tough stance but that stance is not through direct confrontation with a
nation that has highly unstable and unscrupulous government with access to
nuclear weapons. The modern warfare is perhaps won via economics and not guns.
Let us be prudent and let us be strong and let us try to prevent more deaths
rather than inciting for more. The government seems to have reacted on these
lines only which is heartening and I sincerely hope we find it in ourselves to
truly be strong and stop this cycle of hatred via the internet – YOU ARE NOT
HELPING.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I will stop now and hope once again you find it in you to be
patient enough to calm my agitated mind. When I write again maybe I will be
more positive<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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With all my best wishes,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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Rain Messenger<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-82286716957218630692014-08-17T13:49:00.003+05:302014-08-17T13:53:21.288+05:30Shadows and Memories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOCZCwbGfNS3hrCyTTSO7xmjcwbdx0nlQzde_qqLPGeF_ep-wjDqsfS6miRHuc4WFJr4Tu_6RW-GRvbM04YRAXUbKAtCUR1ptSanXU09lj36v21c9BLoddamXI12EoqgR3A2HoOkeeQHr/s1600/shadows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOCZCwbGfNS3hrCyTTSO7xmjcwbdx0nlQzde_qqLPGeF_ep-wjDqsfS6miRHuc4WFJr4Tu_6RW-GRvbM04YRAXUbKAtCUR1ptSanXU09lj36v21c9BLoddamXI12EoqgR3A2HoOkeeQHr/s1600/shadows.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
When the
pain is old and the pen rusty…<o:p></o:p></div>
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The skies
overcast…and a rhythmic rain…<o:p></o:p></div>
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I look for
my forgotten friend…<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the
attics of time<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I look for
that feeling…<o:p></o:p></div>
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But, the pen
is rusty and the scar hidden<o:p></o:p></div>
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And, the
relentless call of life…<o:p></o:p></div>
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And the
burden of happily ever after…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The curse of
finding what you are looking for<o:p></o:p></div>
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And letting
it go…because you can’t stop<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the rain…the
smoke of cigarette all around<o:p></o:p></div>
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I search and
not find…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Yet, I search…<o:p></o:p></div>
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My redemption
in the rusty pen…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Coaxing
words…when all is quiet<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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For silence
is my sword….silence my eternal sleep<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-8982900665103862972013-07-16T14:27:00.002+05:302013-07-16T16:35:14.337+05:30Insanity and Us<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDBoLSeCS1qcD6Ev2O736NJjVxURS9bsWF_pVkup44HQ23G3NRmBEVaZgJcAyvT5_42XWnWxn0TrAJhjFHsus1FMO5Q2DN0HNlJq5tdmdVO8C93NQokW0nQNW9yyYkntgLvCw1Y5PHS9tf/s1600/Fire_by_Tortured_Raven_Stock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDBoLSeCS1qcD6Ev2O736NJjVxURS9bsWF_pVkup44HQ23G3NRmBEVaZgJcAyvT5_42XWnWxn0TrAJhjFHsus1FMO5Q2DN0HNlJq5tdmdVO8C93NQokW0nQNW9yyYkntgLvCw1Y5PHS9tf/s320/Fire_by_Tortured_Raven_Stock.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The clouds roll in…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Steady…Calm…Dark…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, we burn<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Like the world around us…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Bringing insanity to the fore…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Indulging in the dance of
madness…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, we embrace…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The mad rush…in the flow of
life…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">We seek each other…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">To create…to think…to say…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">So much that needs to be said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">But, remains ensconced in
silence…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, we scream<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Loud…Uninhibited…Unafraid…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Pushing boundaries…to find our
place<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">To accept the fire…we are
rushing towards<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Yet, you and I feel safe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Left alone…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">We find solace…as the world
burns…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">We helplessly watch…waiting for
our turn</span></div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-20409266676072930002013-06-02T22:59:00.001+05:302013-07-16T14:57:37.465+05:30The Dreamer and his Memories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJguiguTpQLu6jOj0SMIpE0arl2HygziQhj3U5n5EXFUqQOtbl0xDLIdodyLW_TFvWbILpIbgNmigGeL5OFWPJWU1UFA3F7xXv_s0IlFl1RIw1uRZ-eyT54kzQ5QuXPOs9O1mg9G2nSxKx/s1600/The_Dreamer_by_Bolshevixen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJguiguTpQLu6jOj0SMIpE0arl2HygziQhj3U5n5EXFUqQOtbl0xDLIdodyLW_TFvWbILpIbgNmigGeL5OFWPJWU1UFA3F7xXv_s0IlFl1RIw1uRZ-eyT54kzQ5QuXPOs9O1mg9G2nSxKx/s320/The_Dreamer_by_Bolshevixen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">You came from the
shadows…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Unencumbered…free…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">You dreamed…you
spoke…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, showed us
pictures…that seeped deep within<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">You refused the road
oft taken<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Fought, bloody wars…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, then danced in
the rapture of creation…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Because, only you
could<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Each frame a story…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Each idea a
rebellion…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">You carried
difference with elegance<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, now you’re gone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">So here’s to the
lonely verandah…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Here’s to the
untouched coffee & half-burnt cigarettes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">You were a dreamer…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">But, you were not
alone…</span></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-48811880610463745752012-12-24T15:13:00.002+05:302013-07-16T15:38:19.819+05:30For Nirbhaya & Those Who Languish in Darkness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">Her
cries were drowned in laughter…</span><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">Her pain was buried in
lust…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">As, animals tore her apart<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">We watched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">We have been silent…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">We will always
be…scared…hiding…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">And, she will continue to
be brutalized<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">As, we watch<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">She fights…they laugh…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">We sermonize…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">We react…safe in the
anonymity of the numbers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">We actually enjoy…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">Animals, we are…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">Watching them tear her
apart…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">Slowly…painfully<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">And, still we choose to
watch<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">Let’s stand
up…once…together<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">And, make them afraid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">For once…for what is
right…unafraid & free<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;">And,
then maybe my sister will find peace.</span><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-47872877657066666602012-12-18T10:47:00.002+05:302012-12-18T10:52:55.128+05:30The Awakening of the Pen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9yBtUKAJPASNvOFwYiZSWXRqv2_j9rTT4jWmz_dsG2aHuiJCkArZgNy3mDB4hECxrjKq33FcIAEfaheXjupZxjBVqNPpj75VKZ-soGnAy9LK8nfVmExecOfaJuGAK3YI7Erc4HsF16WX/s1600/pen2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9yBtUKAJPASNvOFwYiZSWXRqv2_j9rTT4jWmz_dsG2aHuiJCkArZgNy3mDB4hECxrjKq33FcIAEfaheXjupZxjBVqNPpj75VKZ-soGnAy9LK8nfVmExecOfaJuGAK3YI7Erc4HsF16WX/s320/pen2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, the night sky rumbles…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, winter draws near<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">I huddle in the cold…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Filled with a new fervor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Sometimes, the cobwebs need
dusting…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Sometimes, a weary soul needs a
smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Or, maybe just a coffee, a
cigarette<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">A short acknowledgement that
you are mine…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">But, it’s ok…all is well…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, it rains<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Cold…dreary…December rain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, all pain is frozen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">While, my pen awakens<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Perhaps, in desperate search…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Search for an answer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Or…A desperate attempt to cling
on to its identity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-4952869830775621172012-10-01T16:16:00.002+05:302012-10-01T16:16:47.395+05:30Of Flying Kites and Freedom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Of all things silent…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Of friends and forgotten stairways...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Of flying kites and being free<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">And, standing still<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">The lonely piece of sky…from the lonely window<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Sighs, as she clings to the railing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">The last of the tears…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Have dried in her throat<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">She searches…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">For a kite…for a colourful spark…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">In the grey heavens…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Something else from what is…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Her shackles have fallen silent…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Her battered soul numb<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Seeking not freedom…but assurance…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">That not everything is a lonely body in the lonely
streets<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">Yet, the sky is empty…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">The music silent…the guitar unstrung…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">She turns back to darkness<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;">The grey sky stays quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-89364211232376413192012-08-20T23:45:00.003+05:302012-08-20T23:45:54.672+05:30Of Rains and Afternoons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The
naughty rain…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And,
lazy afternoon silently watch…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As,
you breathe gently on my neck…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And,
we ride on dawn’s chariot…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Unbridled…free…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">While,
the world stops around us…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And,
we move as one<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Afraid…Happy…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As,
waves of emotions wash over us<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And,
rain falls…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">While
we soak in it…drink it up<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, if
there is no tomorrow<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And,
we hold each other…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Afraid
to let go…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The
old, lazy afternoon…just smiles<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-2859863194111772492012-08-10T11:37:00.001+05:302012-08-10T11:37:16.792+05:30Dusk<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">Changing with time… slowly
morphing…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, my flesh gets ripped off on
barbed wires<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">I move forward…bleeding and
bones…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">While troubled waters keep
flowing under the bridge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The pen refuses to move…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, too many words block its
path<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">The blinding pain…giving way to
cold numbness<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">While, I close my eyes…and let
sleep embrace me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">But, in my waking dreams and
lonely sojourns<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">I have searched for solace in
your arms…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">As, the sands and winds have
left their marks…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">I stand
unrecognizable…battered, but strong<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">I have picked up my pen again…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">To dance, with my rain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">And, feel coffee’s bitter kiss<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif";">With the forgotten half-burnt
cigarette on my lips<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-13696882408829194592012-04-25T00:32:00.001+05:302012-04-25T00:32:24.472+05:30Rain Messenger's Diary 18....25th April, 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have almost forgotten when I last picked up my pen to
write something, or in this case typed something in Word. But, a long hiatus from penning my ramblings
is not what perplexes me, what astonishes me is I didn’t really get the insatiable
urge to write. The search of a livelihood and the whole deal of growing up
perhaps steals a bit of you from you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suman has sung some of my favourite lines, one such being “E
Sahar janey amar prothom shob kichu, palate chai joto shey ashe amar pichu
pichu”. It has always intrigued me how we keep trying to run away and avoid our
past yet the more we try to forget, the harder it gets to do so. I do not know
whether am running away or just don’t have the time to stroll down memory
lane…but I do miss my madness when it rains. I miss, being able to simply walk
out and greet the rain with open arms and closed eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a daze, I walk on doing things that are expected of me, a
non-descript life of a non-descript human-being….one among teeming millions whose
absence or presence is equivalent. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I truly have lost the touch…I seem to have lost my words…I
guess sometimes we do lose our lives in search of our livelihoods</div>
</div>Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-60633637466803545522012-02-17T15:01:00.002+05:302012-02-17T15:01:38.010+05:30Winter’s EmbraceThe winter crept up stealthily behind…<br />
Like an old friend…<br />
And, embraced my weary soul<br />
Embalming my wounds in its chilly blanket<br />
<br />
I have wondered about this winter…<br />
In my waking dreams<br />
I have wrestled with shadows<br />
Wondering about my being…<br />
<br />
I have questioned relevance of life…<br />
I have run for miles…just to feel tired…<br />
And, I have waited for this winter…<br />
Enigmatic…cold…inevitable…<br />
<br />
Torn apart with questions<br />
I have sought solace in unlikely corners…<br />
I have traversed lonely boulevards of my mind…<br />
In circles<br />
<br />
Elusive peace and elusive answers<br />
And, an elaborate sham of civilization<br />
I have been a part yet apart…<br />
But, now finally I surrender…savoring the winter’s embrace<br />Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-83458679847638806332012-02-17T15:00:00.003+05:302012-02-17T15:00:47.729+05:30AgeThe curtains part…<br />
Making way for dawn’s silent footsteps<br />
Sentinel of a new day…<br />
Testimony of another day’s end<br />
<br />
And, life walks on…<br />
Chained by contradictions…and misunderstood fears<br />
Just some wrinkles, mute witnesses…<br />
Of passing time<br />
<br />
She looks up at her slice of sky<br />
From her verandah…in her lonely apartment<br />
And, watches the vast unknown<br />
With a half drunk coffee by her side<br />
<br />
She watches the fog roll by…<br />
Hiding her familiar view…<br />
By her loved window…she closes her eyes…<br />
And smiles…It doesn’t matter even if its time…<br />Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-39254063921683860212011-11-21T16:20:00.001+05:302011-11-21T16:20:56.860+05:30Of Journeys and DestinationsI stand filled with restless thoughts<br />
Like the wandering wind…<br />
Looking for a place to stop…<br />
<br />
Watching the rain from a speeding car…<br />
Hurtling towards inevitability<br />
With a half burnt cigarette in my lips…<br />
<br />
Stripped of all illusions of control…<br />
I stand quiet…Staring blankly outside the window…<br />
The coffee…untouched…cold…dark…<br />
<br />
As, I wonder about purpose…<br />
I feel a familiar hand in mine…<br />
I close my eyes…maybe, it’s worth it all<br />Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-67228821762059963222011-10-31T16:36:00.002+05:302011-11-01T11:24:35.195+05:30What have I got to say?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLeEe1idH0oePFp06gJi99bb_0oo3iZ3jwHy7J9hLXc-RtC8DqhraiGLtdVeJZbKih5NjIbp0YHZ426xPgE3aHgn7F1E95RwF0LoLwkPlFDf8mQMlxK_z7JWGPgwns1gUD5sYIv8T6orU/s1600/Futility_by_Empty_Can.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLeEe1idH0oePFp06gJi99bb_0oo3iZ3jwHy7J9hLXc-RtC8DqhraiGLtdVeJZbKih5NjIbp0YHZ426xPgE3aHgn7F1E95RwF0LoLwkPlFDf8mQMlxK_z7JWGPgwns1gUD5sYIv8T6orU/s320/Futility_by_Empty_Can.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">What have I got to say...<br />
Is it simple…or perhaps, convoluted<br />
Is it worth a thousand words…<br />
Or, a silent smile…<br />
<br />
Will someone hear it…<br />
Amongst the din of people dying<br />
Amongst agony…hunger…lust…life…<br />
Should I be heard?<br />
<br />
What is it that I am saying…<br />
That hasn’t been felt before…<br />
Insignificant words…for an indifferent multitude<br />
Who cares…<br />
<br />
Yet, I fill these pages<br />
Waiting…to find that word…<br />
That stirs the water under the bridge…<br />
And, reminds you of rain on a dark night<br />
<br />
Like a blind traveller…<br />
In the boulevard of words<br />
I feel each word with awe…and pen down a few…<br />
Someday…someone…will find a meaning…I just keep writing</div>Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-71676191883499361872011-10-19T15:58:00.002+05:302011-10-19T15:59:06.404+05:30Of Change and ConstancyIn the faraway horizon<br />
Where, the sky melts into the ocean<br />
Somber...Silent…<br />
I stand with you…ensconced in solitude<br />
<br />
Tired of the constant battering…<br />
Of joys and sorrows<br />
Beyond boundaries and bonds…<br />
Where, it’s just You and I…and us…<br />
<br />
In one cataclysmic dance…<br />
I have left the world behind<br />
In the manic, suicidal desire<br />
To love…to be loved<br />
<br />
As, the words come to the lips<br />
Yet, are spoken by the eyes… I stand with you in my arms…<br />
As seasons change…lives change…<br />
But, the sky keeps melting into the ocean<br />Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-41841842258544653242011-09-26T12:55:00.000+05:302011-09-28T14:25:07.072+05:30Anguish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7mtEGOKWU5C_g_3KHcjqSlYICIFAL_3N0PxNora8-toX8zAChxpAsfkyptS9aqvjL1L-Y8UikNI71tntv3aitsAS1nx3n_xY9O9Kgk4quaBHw0H360rJMbQ4BWJbBtIoq2VYFIxpNewn/s1600/The_Process_of_Anguish_by_theflickerees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7mtEGOKWU5C_g_3KHcjqSlYICIFAL_3N0PxNora8-toX8zAChxpAsfkyptS9aqvjL1L-Y8UikNI71tntv3aitsAS1nx3n_xY9O9Kgk4quaBHw0H360rJMbQ4BWJbBtIoq2VYFIxpNewn/s320/The_Process_of_Anguish_by_theflickerees.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I watch the sea of life…<br />
Break on the shores of eternity<br />
And, I watch the endless parade…<br />
Of lives without meaning<br />
<br />
And, I cry…<br />
Waiting, for the tears to be heard<br />
While, I search for words<br />
In the sunshine-less streets of the world<br />
<br />
Somewhere, there is a saga<br />
Of memories…and quicksand<br />
Of forgotten words in dusty bylanes<br />
Of stories untold<br />
<br />
I bid adieu…I lose myself<br />
To join the crowd, yet not be a part<br />
To be torn apart…just to be whole again<br />
Time it is…for being heard<br />
<br />
I sing…the unsung songs<br />
Carrying the voice of unheard throngs<br />
I fly and fall…I flow and ebb…<br />
With the hungry tides eating my soul</div>Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-4994072482572279612011-09-08T11:10:00.004+05:302011-09-08T11:14:38.377+05:30The Falling of a Star<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHeI1ZmqE84jPUbp3bu138RdGa3KLNmaqjhQ3Umu1pyVHdW5Q3KvBKnhIMpQheOY8AJnCN7qi5-OhKSk6t6JUI8dD4Yhlx7rA5q_RekP9Tpg27nc5iVXSnBg6Yzttxvn4faKQ8zTmRlf6E/s1600/Falling_Star_by_ahmARtell15.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHeI1ZmqE84jPUbp3bu138RdGa3KLNmaqjhQ3Umu1pyVHdW5Q3KvBKnhIMpQheOY8AJnCN7qi5-OhKSk6t6JUI8dD4Yhlx7rA5q_RekP9Tpg27nc5iVXSnBg6Yzttxvn4faKQ8zTmRlf6E/s320/Falling_Star_by_ahmARtell15.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649860547909230114" /></a><br />The sleepless river beckons…<br />As, I watch from the sidelines<br />Her dark liaisons…<br />And, the scars of countless lovers<br /><br />She stands bereft of the spotlight…<br />In the shadows…after an eternity<br />And, even in my arms…<br />She yearns to e free…<br /><br />The lonely street lamps stand witness<br />To whispered secrets…behind the veil<br />To forgotten tears…<br />And, unknown streets<br /><br />Adorned with the weight of time…<br />Practiced smile hiding the usual pain<br />Greeting the thousands waiting for her…she turns to me…<br />She has never been more lonelyRitayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-82757761045434253502011-08-04T22:35:00.002+05:302011-08-10T23:05:56.813+05:30To A Journey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYY0Vj5_7k8sQ_J8sgkYbp-cCdtO5-_SzkaKRyyO_JYwNXbZsoED9_7aYQ7d8kK8S0pbpkCqw1sHYzeETLrREfybUNEHHsvh6J12JZKj7_e5JXJDSrQdYue0t_pc0aQPvn-6sTzPBZOy5/s1600/The_Journey_by_gilad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYY0Vj5_7k8sQ_J8sgkYbp-cCdtO5-_SzkaKRyyO_JYwNXbZsoED9_7aYQ7d8kK8S0pbpkCqw1sHYzeETLrREfybUNEHHsvh6J12JZKj7_e5JXJDSrQdYue0t_pc0aQPvn-6sTzPBZOy5/s320/The_Journey_by_gilad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637055495101691730" /></a>
<br />Trembling lips…
<br />She stands bereft of social trappings…
<br />Beyond pretensions…and forced smiles…
<br />She stands numb…
<br />
<br />In the end, it counts to nothing…
<br />A whole lot of mistakes and a few lies
<br />Forgotten wildflowers…and, left behind ties
<br />All, she has is life…
<br />
<br />Heavy drops on silent nights…
<br />Quietly encroach upon her senses…
<br />Taking her in…
<br />Like the man who rode the storm
<br />
<br />She waits…
<br />A stained coffee cup in her hand
<br />Civilization roaring beneath her…
<br />While, she is on pause in her balcony
<br />
<br />She watches the evening birds
<br />And, the rising sun slowly setting…
<br />Caught in the labyrinth of life
<br />She closes her eyes…
<br />
<br />Maybe, its time…
<br />To end this sojourn…
<br />To hit the unknown road again
<br />Bid adieu to an un-understood city…loved and hated…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-12495256949675000842011-07-23T22:00:00.002+05:302011-07-23T22:11:33.898+05:30La Guitara<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylm_f0iTeZoHFel-Xy0mSysgUtabFzO_93cyy6n0Tz1AZpakewKSjXoHsgYqRKM1xllhksuXPxxqm6zpH0m6jqoJ3Yv23cWUT1O9iQYrHr3SJuPNPuoPTxVv1pg9UZROCjtbuoZ3dyEMZ/s1600/Guitar_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylm_f0iTeZoHFel-Xy0mSysgUtabFzO_93cyy6n0Tz1AZpakewKSjXoHsgYqRKM1xllhksuXPxxqm6zpH0m6jqoJ3Yv23cWUT1O9iQYrHr3SJuPNPuoPTxVv1pg9UZROCjtbuoZ3dyEMZ/s320/Guitar_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632588850559098338" /></a><br />It lies forgotten…<br />Covered with dust…in a lonely corner<br />With music lost in its depth…<br />My guitar…<br /><br />I stumbled on it…<br />As, you tend to find un-looked for things…<br />Wondering, how I had left it behind…<br />How with time, I had ceased to care<br /><br />Unstrung…covered with sands of time<br />It flooded me…<br />Like an old memory<br />Bittersweet…happily painful…<br /><br />I slowly looked out…<br />Far away in the distance<br />A blank stare…a desperate search…<br />A search for my guitar…and a forgotten me…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-63800554628387911382011-07-09T23:40:00.001+05:302011-07-09T23:54:36.569+05:30Rain Dance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KQeDRC2opVQSGtYo_JPHymf305Wmmho7JCubsRne-5sEh06MdEDGeEhLknBe1QO-lZ0ID4OAEyUdPUkRQqwJOIy6ciB5lnXro0lSHLhSDiNNGilfyotV3C-A15oTcXhHCg3M2FTidKSC/s1600/Dance_by_FirestarterVC.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KQeDRC2opVQSGtYo_JPHymf305Wmmho7JCubsRne-5sEh06MdEDGeEhLknBe1QO-lZ0ID4OAEyUdPUkRQqwJOIy6ciB5lnXro0lSHLhSDiNNGilfyotV3C-A15oTcXhHCg3M2FTidKSC/s320/Dance_by_FirestarterVC.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627420146398217922" /></a><br />I look at you, this stormy evening…<br />While you are lost in your dance<br />I watch as your rhythm beckon the drunk winds…<br />And, you slowly draw me in…<br /><br />The dangerously beautiful beats…<br />Ring out solitary and true…<br />And, I let the dance of madness carry on around me…<br />While I seek peace in you<br /><br />You brought my life to a stop…<br />In a moment’s notice<br />Almost, mocking my presumptions of control…<br />Yet somehow, making me feel free…<br /><br />I watch…<br />The rolling clouds in the distance<br />Silent as a distant memory…<br />Buried yet remembered…in my solitary sojourns<br /><br />Tender…bittersweet…thy impressions<br />My failures…the darkness…<br />That I could not take away from your eyes…<br />Let them be drowned…as you dance and I lose myself…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-90240165880223237082011-05-26T23:20:00.001+05:302011-06-05T13:57:42.742+05:30Cloudy In May<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0CIERqgX_nMpy-qnIyCmiMFyMpGtLhk-dsE2-nBUEEo7z7quwMB38llnDj0bjOGYXWZ3Iv48U-PafHEb9BIQBP7v36EQwDPbc4EjZQ56Wo-fBraEUXi0Txp3h-OWCTdkHv2aF5v_BuWE/s1600/Cloudy_brushes_by_Scully7491.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0CIERqgX_nMpy-qnIyCmiMFyMpGtLhk-dsE2-nBUEEo7z7quwMB38llnDj0bjOGYXWZ3Iv48U-PafHEb9BIQBP7v36EQwDPbc4EjZQ56Wo-fBraEUXi0Txp3h-OWCTdkHv2aF5v_BuWE/s320/Cloudy_brushes_by_Scully7491.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614649155070094114" /></a><br />It is the quiet of the clouded sky…<br />The silent rustle of awakened leaves…<br />And, the trumpet sound of eternal greydom…<br />In its awesome glory…melancholy beauty<br /><br />The urgent patter on plastic keys<br />Fall silent…<br />One by one, everyone looks out…<br />The magnificent is getting ready to dance…<br /><br />All present feels the music…<br />Slow…Steady…Rising to a zenith<br />Wild…Passionate…Beautiful…<br />As, the light streaks across the sky<br /><br />For a moment, all is quiet…<br />As, if the walls have dissolved<br />And, we want to be washed by its freshness<br />Then, we turn back…the patter starts again…civilization calls…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-47902122493214053622011-05-22T22:59:00.001+05:302011-05-22T23:25:10.601+05:30Wait<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyIs-55VO11NTnFB0HFjeNmp1Zz7LTkhQVrXAniQIpWey0LLwI61rydmjhkl2TWojivkg9RQWrTxWO7rEFw8KBPa_a0HigpijckYdPNchNPf8-jIb7pMwoTR9DvieJsADPo13_lj34kmEl/s1600/wait_by_arayo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyIs-55VO11NTnFB0HFjeNmp1Zz7LTkhQVrXAniQIpWey0LLwI61rydmjhkl2TWojivkg9RQWrTxWO7rEFw8KBPa_a0HigpijckYdPNchNPf8-jIb7pMwoTR9DvieJsADPo13_lj34kmEl/s320/wait_by_arayo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609600141043344274" /></a><br />The rains are back…<br />She feels before the first drops hit her face…<br />She closes her eyes…<br />His smile is all she can see<br /><br />Distance…and situations…<br />She waits in silence…<br />Looking at the ring on a lonely finger<br />While, salty tears flow with the rain<br /><br />The unbearable mornings…<br />As, she remembers every moment<br />The desperate desire…<br />To be lost in time with him<br /><br />Slow music and intimate hugs…<br />The feel of his lips…<br />His arms around her…<br />She remembers…she yearns for…<br /><br />The agony…the anguish<br />She would walk miles…<br />Just for a moment with him<br />But, he is too far away…and for now it’s an unending wait…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-8377479394611004442011-05-21T22:24:00.001+05:302011-05-21T22:51:03.914+05:30Lost Pages<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi36kndahLKW4KryzrG6oJDYfXR2G30RL6Vv31Fm81fXsPeWQktgpN1MInkvAQnwLpwVg6yTvEtJv5P3dQHxEtQHl6ItMI-NI2alvdVIefYKrttJozJEzV17qH0aQYhdtUkImFZVt6aEdUD/s1600/Lost_Pages_by_omgizzle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi36kndahLKW4KryzrG6oJDYfXR2G30RL6Vv31Fm81fXsPeWQktgpN1MInkvAQnwLpwVg6yTvEtJv5P3dQHxEtQHl6ItMI-NI2alvdVIefYKrttJozJEzV17qH0aQYhdtUkImFZVt6aEdUD/s320/Lost_Pages_by_omgizzle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609220296594271090" /></a><br />Suddenly I feel lost…<br />Having lost those pages full of words…<br />The stolen emotions…<br />The forgotten smiles and tears…lost…<br /><br />That first gift…<br />To a companion<br />Pages full of cobwebs and light…<br />Pain…Relief…a new high…lost<br /><br />Moments blank out before me…<br />As, those lost words scream out<br />The rain…the deafening silence…<br />The lost music…my lost thoughts…<br /><br />I forget who I loved…<br />Or what you demanded of me…<br />Those quiet afternoon and haunting nights…<br />I had lost you once…I lost you again…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-974850548329339682011-04-19T20:56:00.002+05:302011-04-19T21:24:31.531+05:30Cobwebs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfav-nyCdy4CGUM710Lc-JUqWU7V6PysZnOuOYTQz_i9kMm-5sA3R6LMubFewY_G8Pn4B7RoKK8DEBfgVOUwvBJFwo3tlKFC3hS51lr9Yl6nE5rMm4ZMayOeWm5wcHYn60oocN2aKPNmY1/s1600/cobwebs_by_ForTheMemories.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfav-nyCdy4CGUM710Lc-JUqWU7V6PysZnOuOYTQz_i9kMm-5sA3R6LMubFewY_G8Pn4B7RoKK8DEBfgVOUwvBJFwo3tlKFC3hS51lr9Yl6nE5rMm4ZMayOeWm5wcHYn60oocN2aKPNmY1/s320/cobwebs_by_ForTheMemories.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597323600056165282" /></a><br />The cobwebs revealed themselves…<br />In the farthest and darkest of corners<br />As, the accumulated weight was removed<br />And, the shelves lay barren…bereft of its wealth…<br /><br />The sun caught the intricate patterns…<br />Dazzling in its devilish trickery…<br />The window watched.<br />Quietly<br /><br />I walked up to the edge…<br />And, watched the grey clouds roll in<br />Its time…<br />It’s about to rain again<br /><br />But, I am drawn back<br />By those empty shelves<br />Dust…Hollow…<br />And, cobwebs…<br /><br />At, the end of it all<br />Alone behind the scenes, I wonder…<br />How many tears have I buried?<br />For every smile to be possible<br /><br />And, I seek her hand…<br />To push the cobwebs away…<br />Push them away…into light<br />From the farthest and darkest corners of my mind<br /><br />I had gotten rid of all I had…<br />But, not what was stored inside<br />Maybe, that brought the rain…<br />To help wash the debris away<br /><br />The words flow like an aimless stream…<br />A steady patter on the windowpane<br />The crazy breeze threatening to ruin everything…<br />Dust. Cobwebs. Sleep…Ritayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3370854607321998741.post-32003558699219393732011-04-19T20:54:00.000+05:302011-04-19T20:56:41.067+05:30Rain Messenger's Diary 17...Letter to Annie 6Dear Annie,<br /><br />It really has been a long time since I last wrote to you. Somehow, I had not lifted the pen for a long time, words seemed to have frozen and I was going on in a trance. <br /><br />I know you must be a bit worried by now or wondering whether I am in the clutches of one of my bouts of depression. Let me allay your fears – it is not so. Not all trances are necessarily bad and this definitely aint.<br /><br />Annie, we have had several conversations over the years, when I have felt your responses in the gentle night breeze or the embrace of the early morning sun. you have inspired me to hold on to perhaps something abstract or even just a notion that better things will come. The eternal sceptic, doubted you. Today, perhaps the wait is over. <br /><br />Annie, I am drenched again. After all these years of blinding agony, it’s raining again. The fragrance of the night stars and steady assurance of the river seems to be intoxicating me. Each shared laugh or innocent moment of love seems to be a gift.<br /><br />Sometimes, life makes us feel glad that it is uncertain. Such moments are rare, but this is one such moment when am at peace with the world. I know you must be giving one of your indulgent smiles now, thinking these are the words of a man who is high on life…well I am.<br /><br />Is that a bad thing???<br /><br />With all my best wishes,<br />Rain MessengerRitayanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02726810523349962872noreply@blogger.com3