Ieshan M's Diary

And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music........

She will kiss you till your lips bleed ink.
she did and now not just my lips but heart, mind, eyes, everything in and around me bleeds in ink. As sit at my table, I keep wondering, what happened to me.Meanwhile my hands writing some gibberish on the paper...

Mom left today, after almost a month, and I'm still thinking how easy it is to get used to someone... and also realized by the stark contrast that I've been living alone since long now but was totally oblivious of it...

Though temperatures are still high and summer showers are still pouring here and there, but through silent evenings and along slow breeze, one could savour the fragrance of unhurriedly arriving Autumn; in my heart too... And I no longer write but just talk to myself in poetry and fiction...

Some things're meant to happen just once. Like first meeting: you falling for me while I was thinking, "Damn! she's out of my league"
And then nothing ever happened, we aren't lovers, we aren't friends; we just two ppl who know each other's name and recognize each other's face, were very comfortable with each other, whenever and wherever we met but actually we didn't know each other neither we tried to...

About those mornings when an idealIst realizes his physical limitations; his impotence against the destiny and the incomprehensible feeling that there nothing you could do but just to be here and see it going against you yet again

He would be holding you, kissing you, hugging you, gazing at your face, watching your eyes filled with love... And I sitting over hear a few thousand miles away from you, thinking of you, some what lost and found, looking around at every resembling face intently, passing by these empty days and night vehemently, head wounded by your memories.
Everything hurts, the spectacles I see, air that I breath, words I speak, paths that I walk on, music that just goes on and on and on...

So once again travelling aimlessly, I somehow ended spending the evening on the banks of SURU River (which is also known as INDUS). As the sun sinks beyond the mountains on the other side and as the evening slowly blossoms, the shores start turning lonely, winds starts to turn dry and bitter, it feels as if the shore on the other side is calling this shore, whispering across the shimmery black-golden, noisy water in silent sighs, like the two lovers eternally stuck on the two different shores of the river named life...

When she first left, in years after that I realised even though I was all the time in love with her but never seem to comprehend the feeling in that way, I mean so much was going around at that time that I just didn’t had even a single moment to introspect like I do these days. Anyways when she left, times following after that became too unbearable. I realised that I was not careless because I didn’t care or was inconsiderate of stuff but it was because of her presence. So I decided that if at all I got a chance to meet her back in this life again [the chances of which were way too meagre as I was leaving the city and she was shifting to her new house, consequently the address of which I wouldn’t know and as there were no mobiles back then so at that time standing there on that very last hour of our last day it very much felt like the last deliberate meeting, and the next one would totally be dependent on the fate.] so I decided though not very instantly but after a thorough contemplation of everything and every little memory to its obvious detail, just to be sure of myself, that if fate willing, when we meet I won’t just stand there just looking at her as she again goes away.

Consider that you have a four-year old child, a boy perhaps. He has just had his fourth birthday party and is tired and cranky, doesn't want his supper because he is full of candy and cake. He frets through his bath and throws a temper tantrum when he has to be tucked into bed. "I hate you, Daddy," he strikes out with a fist and narrowly misses your jaw.

"Never mind," you tell him. "I still love you. Now go to sleep." And you turn off the light as you leave, gently closing his door. His sobs follow you downstairs.

Now, picture this same scene two years later, same party, same fretful child. However, he is six years old now and a great deal has happened in the last two years. He fusses through his bath and gets increasingly angry as bedtime approaches. When you tuck him in, he says, "You hate me, Daddy." and he turns on his side away from your attempted embrace and goodnight kiss.

What has happened?

Saturday I'm running wild
And all the lights are changing red to green
Moving through the crowd I'm pushing
Chemicals all rushing through my bloodstream
Only wish that you were here
You know I'm seeing it so clear
I've been afraid
To tell you how I really feel
Admit to some of those bad mistakes I've made

Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now...

In an effort to get people to look into each other's eyes more, and also to appease the mutes, the government has decided to allot each person exactly one hundred and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear without saying hello. In the restaurant I point at the chicken noodle soup. I'm adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance love, proudly say I only used fifty nine today

When she doesn't respond, I know she's used up all her words, so I slowly whisper "I love you" hundred and an eighth times. After that, we just sit on the line and listen to each others breathe

how strange it is to be able to see anything at all!!
never stop wondering, never stop wandering!!

Hu kus Be kus Teli wan Su kus
(Who are you and who am I then tell us who is he the
creator that permeates through both you and I)
Moh Batuk Logum Deg
(each Day I feed my senses/body with the food of
worldly attachment and material love)
Shwas khich khich wang-mayam
(For when the breath that I take in reaches the point
of complete purification)
Bhruman daras poyun chokum
(it feels like my mind is bathing in the water of divine
love)
Tekis Takya bane tyuk
(Then I know I am like that sandalwood which is
pasted for divine fragrance symbolic of universal
divinity. I realize that I am,indeed,divine)

PS:For those who have seen that ICICI add with little children
this is what they are singing at the background and its translation, I hope I've done justice to it

After years, for a night, no longer restless in passion,
With no fear of regret.
I have reached that age when one visits the heart merely as a courtesy.

I, the grotesque visage of irrevocably melancholic power, the illogical rationale of devastating obliteration stand here watched by inestimable nothingness. I, the voyager of dimensional, un-dimensional and inter-dimensional space, encircled by startling atypical and uncommon physical and metaphysical laws of subsistence and extinction, governing sentient and insentient, animate and in animate. I, the forlorn bystander, the desolate onlooker of this multitudinous, multivariate yet obscurely secluded cosmos which is nothing but an atrocious epitome of self avowed incongruity which evidently flaunts itself in the occurrences, on the consequential pretext of which, even though I’m one of not very many who understand the irrelevancy, enjoy the dispensation from and have a dominion over time, yet subsequently feel an overwhelming and an irrepressible urge which is equally a longing and a craving to further orate in a dialect relative to mortals who are delimited within the circles of time. I address to none in this void existence but self, I’ve been in motion from the time unmemorable, measured the entire space, voyaged every galaxy, took a trip through every star-system ever existed before myself came in to existence, trekked the surface of every star, every super nebula, every white dwarf, every black hole, every planet dead and alive, studied every life form organic, in organic, macroscopic and microscopic, civilised, uncivilized, rational, irrational. Have observed and understood occurrences so frequent yet so rare to any perception and also which would never occur again of which I’m the sole witness.
And now at this instantaneous moment of conclusion,
all I see is grey,
All I taste is chaff,
All I hear is a din,
All I smell is stench,
All I breathe is smoke,
All I speak is chocked,
All I touch is cold,
All I walk over is yard of graves,
Death is all for which I crave.

For so long I've been sitting on the shores of this silent sea, sometimes immersed and engulfed in useless thoughts and some other times completely bare and blank. Looking, at this silent sea, which actually is nothing but the manifestation of soundless or rather noiseless backdrop of my own self...

So many times have I thought of just leaping in to it and dive in completely, without caring of the world, so that I would be free, even from my own self.

How would it feel to just drown down in that quality less bliss, devoid of any pleasure or pain; that indifferent solace; that ultimate peace within??

I know, for sure that it is there in me. I've had the taste of it, though just for a few slipping moments. For a few instances it has risen in me; that pure empty conscious, that shapeless, boundless awareness that beholds all but is itself untouched by all.

On many occasions it had come like a lightening strike and had faded it as quickly. But every time, had left me with an ecstatic trance of which, words are incompetent or rather impotent to explain...

But For now I'm once again sitting on the same shores of this silent sea, gazing at the empty infinite nothingness of my self, waiting for my time to come...

We run after lollipops, we pretend to do science, and make rackets, when, in fact, we run from death, we hind behind spies, and we grin forcebly because, let it be said, we have nothing better to do. We are monkeys who got their hands on tools and this because we got bored, we wished to be as brave as the lion or the tiger, and we craved for flight and birds. It was not evolution that raised the stakes, yet boredom, the need to take yourself out of arms, from the softness with which we had stigmatized ourselves at birth, by the weakness with which we have endowed ourselves as soon as we have been thrown on earth.
We search for meanings and we look casually at any happening, as if each situation contains a knot worth untying. Some things are made to exist in themselves, without us worrying about them. The problem is that most of the times we try to catch that which cannot be touched. The ineluctable derives not from our superficial need to unweave everything with the illusion that we may know everything, yet from our inability to know ourselves. If we do not know ourselves, how could we reach the essence of any essence? How can we dig out worlds that are dead?

Somebody asked me, “how was your life there”? So I thought of life there. I think everywhere I have been, every city I have lived in was like a bubble which I was never able to break in, a world within itself but I never got to get in. Everywhere I've been, all my life I felt alienated. No place could ever claim an ownership on me. Then I guess I was a born misfit and I have never been able to think of any place where I really want or wanted to be…