Tag Archive | "Feelings"

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The Firmament of my Feeling

Posted on 06 February 2012 by Tea Server

I might just know what I want to research upon. Okay, not really. I am just ranting. I need some sort of data-storing medium in my brain that registers the spontaneous phases that I spew out in the middle of an emotional crisis, and I do not have a pencil/pen/computer at hand. Cuz, now, after an hour or two since the storm has subsided, I feel numb.
Side-note: It’s also pathetic to realize that I become numb and emotion-less so quickly. And will that change? I don’t think so.

Bordering on the edge of insanity and dream-like illusions, we place our bets and our beliefs are strengthened. Rather our faith, is given a head-shot. A place in the materialistic realm of hard-hitting scientifically proven facts. Fidgeting and grudging, our desires and wishes. Forwarding glances, and mystified gazes. Surreal and Real. Blinding lights and darkening alliances. Gnawing innards and syphoning intellectually draining neurosis to the world outside.

The Firmament of my Feeling

Dumb and with a neurotic twist
To the tales of the Divine
And to the tales of your worldly design
Of little specks of insurmountable pain and malaise

I am forever circling this green labyrinth of rose bushes
A hearty clench on a beastly beauty
Beastly, because you lie underneath
A weight, a stone-like resistance to fate

Toreador noises, some music in places unknown
Grasping vivid images, and eloquent phrases
Implying ingenuity, archaic simplicity
In Heavens, I have seen, your footsteps abound

Hailing from the mountains above
From white fairies and angels’ love
Fresh from the firmament aura
In this day, and time, the demons might come

To vanquish sins, in retaliation 
To construe white from the red
I need a hand and a promise
A story and an end

With your tears rolling down into oblivion
And with my worry and emotions hitting boulders
Lobbying sides, and gut-wrenching feelings
To your aid, I come and clean the bones

Your feast is over
Your scene is done

My turn to look over
My feelings to burn

Let the dream be over
Let reality take run.

(6th February, 2012)
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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I feel you through me

Posted on 04 February 2012 by Tea Server

In trying to get rid of that phase when you are without any feeling, I discovered something that was obvious but just so. Places, people and situations change, but some people are there. Constant. You need to thank them, throughout. For even if they lose their significance and forget their duties, and hurt you, you should know, they just do not mean it. It’s given, they do not.

-I should be more grateful.

-I need to act fast.
-I can do this, and I shall.
-In my own way, yes. No one is going to change that. I may be forgiving and diplomatic, but my dreams govern me. I will not let other things waylay me. No.

I feel you through me

Sitting on the edge of time
Thinking of symphonies played and loved
Beloved memories, and scented hair
Flowing through a waft of a windy sentence

Of lovers and their promises of eternity
Of fathers and their daughters
And their vow of a life untouched
From sorrow and pain, shame and defeat

Living in this conundrum of nascent thoughts
Nothing gives, nothing bends
Evil eyes, and their hungry desire
Pieces of you and me.

Voices of all sorts
Powerful, and seductive
From dark to dawn, from light to that black shadow
Of contempt and hate, constrained apprehensions

I feel you

In beautiful castles, waiting to be rescued.

I feel you

In dinghy prisons, with consumed body and soul.

I feel you

In clouds above the atmosphere, in dreams of the Divine.

I feel you

In belief of the One above, in resilience and strong will

I feel you

For each moment of inspiration, for each word
That you said, that you meant
A ghastly reminder of who you are
In all those places that you mattered

I felt you

Today, when I look ahead
Looking on stairs leading up to Destiny
With love garnered in little bubbly hearts
And flowers picked from fresh orchards of the young mind

I still feel you.

(4th February, 2012)
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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The sense of belonging…

Posted on 26 January 2012 by Tea Server

-

Not always, what we dream of, comes along with a sense of belonging. And many a times, what we just get, comes with that sense of belonging, ONLY we don’t want to belong there. We want to feel, that sense of belonging, for the dream castle, we have been building for years. But we can’t. We, inadvertently, feel belonged in that shelter, right behind us. But desires don’t concede. Desires want the castle, to live and to surpass all the bystanders. But feelings keep going back to the shelter, to feel the belonging. This mutiny in the realm of heart, is as much horrendous as it sounds chic, in theory. You wish, you could void any of the two contracts, except that you end up breaching both of them.

Your heart yearns for the castle. The castle you fancy throughout your childhood, while playing with your imaginary friends. The castle you envisage during your teenage, when making big plans with your pals. The castle you think about, at night, in your bed and keep thinking about, until you fall in the trap of beauty sleep. The castle, about which you expound in front of others, jestingly but mean it the most secretly. The very castle, where your would-be life is all ha-ha he-he and more awesome than Barney Stinson’s.

And at the same time, heart finds it hard to betray the shelter. That shelter protects you when it starts pouring, and you have no where to lodge because the castle is still under construction. That shelter has always been a source of solace when you get exhausted. That shelter that is the place to unwind yourself when hopes are dashing on the opposite direction. That shelter you have always relied upon–You, subconsciously, believe that it’s-always-gonna-be-there. And you know very well, the treason against the shelter will seize you with a fit of self-odium. You don’t want that.

But you don’t want the shelter either. You want the castle. You just don’t feel you belong there. You think of leaving it unbuilt. But then again, you think perhaps, you will feel you belong there once the castle is built. And the feeling for the shelter, that was there through thick and thin, will erode itself.

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Sleep and Hope

Posted on 20 January 2012 by Tea Server

Sometimes even our darkest emotions and our deepest fears have to come to the surface. They haunt us, they scare us. I just hope it goes away soon.
Sleep and Hope
Fallen angels, withered wings
Her lonely grace, her paper dreams
Her husky voice, and subtle screams
In each second she breathed, she let herself flow to death
Little lights hanging upon her destiny’s way
Blinding flashes of gore and gray
Blood-thirsty monsters play
Head-strong vigilance, a prayer, lost in the fray
Barging through ice-cold water and metal shards of burnt emotions
Heading straight into a valley of seed-less growth
Like a flower, plucked for the thorns it has
Like a river, drained for the toxicity it has
Like her blood, taken for all the hope it had
And crushed into numbing pain, crashing dreams
Bellowing mumbles of resistance, but it means nothing
Her gardens of roses and marigold beds
Her wishes woven with love and little bubbles of hope and freedom
She would dance around a little, hold tiny pockets of Spring
Hold them close to her heart, close to her soul, for the time being
And then her ecstasied frolicking is depreciated
People, calling from their haunting throats
Singing deadly lullabies, putting her to Sleep
The Sleep she does not want
The Sleep that would crucify her emotions and dreams
A lip that whispers ‘Carry me away’
A tone that makes a grain of sense
A voice that drains drops of hope into suspense
A lock of hair, flying in the wind – carrying her message to the world
Muted peace
Bated breath
Closed eyes
And your loneliness strides on a piece of your flesh
Her numb senses, right down to the core
Her broken trust, right down to the last word
Her mistaken dream, right down to every detail
And her splintered fingers, right down to each muscle that aches
Make it happen, she wants to say
Make it true, she longs to believe
How?
Hope, is just the last leaf hanging down from the bare tree.
Hold on to it.
(19th January, 2012)
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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A tale that you hear

Posted on 03 January 2012 by Tea Server

Aaj koi chala hai saj ke piya nagarya re…
This, and so much more. In this land of clandestine emotions and traditions, we hold ourselves as guards to a secret, a tale – that only we want to hear, that only we want to be a part of. And I…I like that.
A tale that you hear
And the faces, a million faces
With the eagerness, and the hope
The sadness in their eyes
A million little jewels, each
A longing to make a pledge
A wish to blink and set it all right
A sand-castle, that was washed away
Like brides, dressed up, but in their eyes:
A momentary sliver of horrendous waiting
When they know, there will be an end
When they know, there will be water to wash it all away
But they still dance
They still frolic
Because in this peace, in this dance of ours
We see colours of red and yellow
Our clothes fly to cover our sorrows
We forget our worries, our little, nimble fingers
Move and erase
The scars in our hearts
The wounds in our minds
The soulful alaaps, they tend to vaporize
And bring out a being
Pure and brimming with nascent emotions
Emotions, like white birds, in the young Night
Ready to fly away and sleep when the Sun comes back
In this little conundrum or red, white and the blue skies
A little voice permeates the best of us
A sober, free call back to their senses
To hold onto dear life
To hold onto our human ties
Our spirits, awakened, set free
So long…
(3rd January, 2012)
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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Water to the slaves

Posted on 27 December 2011 by Tea Server

An idea stolen from a little spark I composed: a little thought, a little flash of inspiration and some good music to go with it. Like soldiers who come only to conquer, like the wind that comes only once and uproots everything, changing lives forever. Like love that happens only once in a lifetime, and never resurfaces again. That feeling, that push from the past, into the future. With no turning back, nothing from the past ensues, it is erased; gone. For places visited just for remembrance, but nothing to be gained out of it, nothing to be erased and nothing to be added. Those harsh survivals, those chords played in retrospect and then forgotten, let’s remember those once in a while.
Water to the slaves
With the thought that came
Came as an un-assuming sound
Like a mark-less hinge of thought
Took control, held drive of the voices we uttered.
Like swarms of flies that came once in a year
Like the Mexico in bloom from the Monarch butterflies
I breed this place like once in a year
Because often it hurts, stings to be here
So I come once in a while, and bring up a storm
To calm the rage
Within and without.
Hypnotized by the hazy dreams
The red-wine spills
And the turquoise coloured cloth hanging from the scratched walls
Those crumbling love-sounds
Dissolved in the acoustics of he world
Unsteady and stumbling.
Do I need to be here?
The memories are sweet,
The present, where is my sympathy?
Have I come here to be forgiven?
No, not now, not me.
Parched lips, looking for water
Blessings awaited, eyes look up
For when I came once, I pledged I would not be back again
Yet, we are here for more
Let’s light up this world,
Let’s colour it red, blue, orange and those colours you talked about
Let’s bring in the life, you talked about
Let’s shut the world outside, and build our own inside
This, this is not you
This, this is not us
This, this is not me.
And so we turn back
Our sympathies, gazing into the wine-spills
The cloth and its dismal fall accusing me of guilt, regrets
But I won’t go back on that road again
I won’t.
It ends; we have the world inside us
It lights up, it is enough to last me a lifetime.
It ends.
(27th December, 2011)
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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The road back

Posted on 24 December 2011 by Tea Server

I need time to come back, I need to be back.

-random musings at 10 o clock in the morning between General Chemistry BIO135 and Zoology I BIO101.
-looking around at people that surround me for now, wondering how they would shape me in the time to come.
-yes, that insignificant piece of bullshit. I know how to turn things around. B)
-presentations, assignments, lab reports, so much work. I kinda like it, you know. This is what I wanted. This is it. It’s here. :) Thank.you.God.
-but in all my gratefulness, there is that tiny spark of regret that comes flashing back. If, only if. Sigh.
-I shall not go down that road again, NO.
-Kia hota, jo mein khud se juda hota, kaash keh  maut mein apni jiya hota.
-I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free yeah!
-yes, that. Exactly that ^.
-Time is one fast thing, man. Like, sheeeeeet.
-And yes, I want some people to sit back and relax. Look at life in perspective and be grateful for everything that they have, and every person that matters to them, and who care for them. Thank the One above, yo.
-I.want.to.write. :’(
-And I want you to tell me each and everything. So that I know what to talk about, what to feel worried about, what to be happy about. It’s a shame, it really is, not knowing everything bothering you.
-a plethora of music, right, left, centre. Gotta thank Mr. Big Brother. :D
-and this. Sigh.
I know why I am here, I know it.
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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The Window in the Room

Posted on 13 December 2011 by Tea Server

Me: I love the window in my room.
K: Windows are lovely inventions. No kidding.
Me: Kia baat ki hai. :O
My window is so…interesting. All sorts of thoughts take place there. Happy thoughts, forgotten thoughts, depressing thoughts, intellectually stimulating thoughts, I-should-get-a-move-on thoughts, thoughts-that-put-a-silent-smile-on-your-face thoughts…
*pause*
I should stop.
K: I’d love for you to continue.
Me: Its just basically my blog’s second home. O.o
K: O.o
Me: Exactly.
I wonder if that does that to anyone who sits at that place. Try sitting there when you come next time.
K: Nahe na. It doesn’t work that way. That’s your ‘get-away’.

Oh get-away, let me get-away soon.
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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Charra Update [3]

Posted on 06 December 2011 by Tea Server

~ Rubies and pearls strewn across the sand dunes
Murky lakes. a drop of insecure love; warmth
I am the wind, I surround the skies
The eucalyptus trees, their leaves, cascading down
Down on me, down with those skies
Fidgeting for that peace.
That Peace.

‎~ A spark came crashing, a wave of belief
Through your white, I saw a black so haunting
In the rush of time, in the flood of days
You’ll stop to gaze, I know you’ll bend, all broke inside
I see a glimpse each day, each day, each day.

~ And then I let it go, because its not seeping in
I let it flow away, I let it disappear
I let it fly away, I let it desert me
It holds me not, nor does it captivate me
It is not the reason I am all blue
It was never the reason I am all gone.

~ The agony so gut-wrenching, pulling my inside away from me
Heaving stones and bullets through me
Like a storm crushing my system, into a million shards of desperation
Oh I am not me, this is not me
Will I ever feel, when I stopped deceiving us
And now I stand silently praying
This is not me. This is not me.

~ And I see them wasting their lives away
Grinding sand against the steel plates
Banging doors, and crashing windows
But oh, do you know?
There is no Me standing on the other side
I have left, long gone
Left you in a stimulated illusion of love.

~ Now that I know what seamless wind blow
Surprised apathy, unexpected wishes and feelings
Now known, now understood, now felt
Harmed through the layers of trust and mistrust
In keeping with the words uttered and smiles given
This is the end: the end of feeling you.

~ This is peace, this is truth
This is your ground, this is you
Drowning wishes, crashing dreams
Trashed words, people screaming
But peace, this is your world
You reign, you defy, you conquer
You open your eyes, this is you.

~ Symphonies created, sounds heard
Fed on the prevalence
And rolled onto figures
Figures of glory, hands of fame
But today, you’ll stop to say
And today you’ll speak a different voice
Because its you, because you’re you.

~ White hands, smoke and trancing silhouettes
Beaten heart, through crimson days
Truce, the silence
And I no longer answer you.

~ Here are the green windows, the red-painted doors
Caging thoughts, like a silent shot on my soul
The blue skies and the ruby line drawn to take away my sight
And my desire burns in an amber-glow
Until the black dawns on me again.

~ Voices penetrating my layers
And beneath those layers something stirs
Stirs to crush the sonic lashes on its soul
To block the outside, to keep the soul to itself.
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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Phir milay ya na milay

Posted on 24 November 2011 by Tea Server

Because I was sick of being so sad, empty and lonely for so long. I wanted to write, and write I did.

-thisisrandomshititypedat5inthemorning.

Phir milay ya na milay

Your reflection etched upon the stretchy canvas 
Pure white light streaming through a hole pricked into oblivion 
Radiance of the soul, emanating through hordes of blackened trees and boulders 
Shimmering light bulbs, switching off with the cast of the Sun, down 

How deep the ocean trudges down
How simple your words are to me 
I keep a watch, I keep a distance 
Rolling belief in the herein staggers me 

Like birds flocking together to tell their tales 
Tales of hunting down a prey, a game 
Words of threat, of words, words and words 
Like you, I melt, lost

(24th November, 2011)
Syndicated from: Amna’s Blog

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Inquisition

Posted on 17 November 2011 by Tea Server

every time i turn a new leaf… stains of life i do see… i hide not from the past bygone… escape from reality is all i seek… i try to overcome the will… of ending it all.. of trying to kill.. whatever remains alive within… they say life it does goes on… for better or [...]

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