The Keeper of The Dreams

She dragged herself to the corner of the room; today she was a little shy.

 Her fire was true as sun; there wasn’t a speck of lie. 

But today, today she will not smile, neither will she cry.

The ardor has slowly been annihilated and her throat too dry.

The moon went up and down it came,

And between those were the countless moments of near pyrophoricity.

Betwixt changing her sides she missed the home,

Being, longings and belongingness, that were her own.

Frights, some she carried and others were wishes.

To see the snow caps, the river and rainbow fishes. 

To walk down the galleries of halls now so old,

Where the flora thrives and the tales are told. 

She would plunge into books and run through reams.

And you ask me what do I want to do?

 I want to be keeper of her dreams. 

February 20th, 2011.

Miss you Kurt
Happy belated one. It just slipped out of my mind.
So how is life in heaven ? 
The word out here is that Amy is finding it too hard to kick her bucket at 27. And I heard that you get 72 virgins in heaven. Is it true ? 
We got this whole recession mumbo jumbo where even your senators are finding it hard to pay their bills. And even India is suffering from chaos. 
There is considerable amount of crap going down here on earth and I wish I never grow 40 or for the matter even 30 to see myself amidst this crisis and anarchy.
I remember it. To burn out than fade away.
Things are bit slow with me. But I will catch up.
Yours affectionately ,
You know who.

A Page From the Diary of Gregor Samsa

The biggest problem is when something that was the reason for the happiness and joy, the reason for the smile after a long and tiring day and hours of silent mental fights and gloomy hours of loneliness becomes the reason of doubt and restlessness. Whatever it is. A result of too much expectations or an unresponsive end of the the rope that creates anxiety. Slow, slow, slow deep breathing as I write. All of the tens of arms and legs devoid of power and fervour as I write. No muscle wants to move as my gut sinks endlessly. All these days I have been locked up in my room. Every effort to make others habitual of my horrifying spatial contours of not only my physical appearance but also the emotional wreck inside of me. But she is the only one who seems to be trying. Even the upside perspective that pumped some extra litres of blood into the head has become ineffective. The apple is still stuck on the my back. It is the reason for sickness I believe . I am disinterested as ever now. Everything is alright. Just alright. No reservations for anything in my mind. Slightest tickle to the heaviest blow. I am dead inside.

Mad, are you ?

Macavity: I want to be officially mad.
Makenzie: But why?
Macavity: So that no one questions me about my madness .

An Evening At The Bar

Amorousness and adulation lasts a moment, most of which is the talking of eyes,

You touch-feel, chit-chat and shake a leg and hold each other tight.

''Go get me some wine and I'll tell you about this girl from the shire .''

Neither is it about her nor is it about the shire to which she belonged.

But the sparkling wine which took decades to be wise and velvet.

Touch of the moonlight, caress of the cordiality and sweetness when

'' We kissed and held fondly on the stairs''

Silence, its habit that it broke, was captivating.

The words don't pierce the air anymore.

The wine is in the blood and I don't want to talk.

''Fill my glass again and I shall tell you more''

Said the young lad as he passed out on the cozy futon.

Deeper Inside

In the spell of perspiration, rot and bleak.
Should abide with premonition to see.
Perpetuated musing on motility I deem.
Dissimilation, all desired by this being it seems.

Believe it Or not !

          Facebook: A website that has almost become synonymous to social networking. Started as simple project by Mark Zuckerberg in 2003 at Harvard University, it has now 1,110 Million registered users (As per the Facebook's Results for First Quarter 2013). With this exponential growth in it's users as well as the number of ways it can be used, the number of pages also grew.The pages ranging from the ones providing jokes and good humor and the ones giving you fitness tips and promoting business to those which seem to have a thing for cute little kittens. 
          I am no different from others in terms of regular habit of shambling through these pages and while one of those regular shuffling I came across a couple of pages which surely had a lot of democracy and love for freedom oozing out of them. As I went through these pages, I got a very new perspective of the potential of social media sites. Social media not only helps people connect, it even provides a platform to bring out the rebel, resistance or the visionary in them. The pages like Freethinkers Club and The Idealist, just to name a few, do the similar job.But as I spent time thinking about it and going deeper and deeper, I encountered a very grave question. 

          I am not talking about any terrorist group or any group planning a coup. I am talking about the person responsible for these.
It is an extremely serious issue that despite of such a huge following there is no one to check the authenticity. A single post on these pages are seen by such a wide number of audience that it is bound to leave an impact on some or other mind and this gets worse when the information is misleading or wrong. Like the quotations by the people who have not even said that and most amusing is the one asking you to thank your father as the pain of being hit in the nuts is equivalent to "160 child births".
          The need is to check what you follow and not believing till the you are sure of the credibility and reliability of the source no matter how big a freedom enthusiast or Guy Fawkes lover you are.

          Who is the authority behind these pages ?