And one day we will find
That it was all here
In the deepest cores of our heart
That love that seemed lost yesterday
Was only a kiss away

Tomorrow had other plans for us
That had to come today
Not a sunrise before
Not an hour late
It was only us that went away
In search of the horizon

In the darkest corner of the night

While the sun and stars crept up behind
And tapped on our shoulders –
Its time to come back
Into the world.
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Whoever coined the term “Life is a journey” made this world a lot more cliched than it already was, but the words could not be more true. Every passing moment is like a trip, every cab ride a bit different than the last, every bus journey feels off key than the last one, every stroll in the park throws up new people or new stories about known faces. Its like one giant wave that we all are surfing, co-passengers and destiny-sharers, running towards the same horizon.
A big part of this life-journey is a hop-skip-jump game that we all play at some point of time. As Mr. Tolkien (adapted) put it ages ago, “The road goes ever on and on, Down from the door where it began, Now far ahead the road has gone, And I must follow, if I can…”, we all move out of our homes – to a new block or to a new city altogether, mixed feelings following our every footstep. But no matter how it begins, as we settle down for the long haul, new corners open up in the new address, favourites develop along frequented paths, watering holes that we keep going back to, weather patterns that align with our moods and days that we look forward to for a merry pastime (can be just sleeping as well!)
Its been 6 years now that I have moved to Bangalore, moving from a 22 year umbilical relationship with my beloved hometown of Kolkata. And nowadays the messy 2BHK apartment feels like a second home to me more than ever, especially when the city’s grey skies keep putting out the summer sun heat. The needle has moved from “I hate this city” to “Hey, whatever it is, its kinda home”. Acceptance and peace.

Its one of those nights once more –
The dark outside seems like a thousand scorching suns;
The silent ceiling fan of last night
Seems like a rioting crowd;
And eyes, like a badly packed suitcase,
Keeps opening up.
There is no sleep,
For you keep running in –
Through doors long shut,
Windows barred twice,
Roads replaced with blocks of resolve;
Yet,
You keep flitting in,
And theres no sleep…

Boundless wires of the phone and infinite calls later
Thousands of words unspoken left and yet
We say only goodbye
Because someone knocked on your door
And I never could ring the bell again
For I was always the doorman
Always the generous host
Shelter in times of rain
The banyan tree by the river
Deified
But alone at night
When demons danced in firelight
Like the blurred bars of windows on a train
I keep forgetting that you were there
Like a rampaging bloodlust tiger on a hunt
I keep forgetting about someone beside me
Like a hurricane on wooden sheds of old
I keep forgetting that we meant something
Like a darwinian evolved human
I keep drinking to forget there was love and liking
Like rains in the scorched city streets
I keep forgetting the stardust you spread right before i slept
For everything of you is black magic to me
And all the rest is a drunken reverie…
If light is as early as the first trill
Of a cuckoo that senses dawn at night

,

Then it might come to pass
That you will find me awake
Conjuring spells of enchantment
Of forget and wrath

;

Whilst in the mirror, you will find yourself
In images of the past
For I know not of how you are
And where you have been

;

Just a damp photograph
Keeps fluttering against the wind
Trapped by deadweight

Theres a bomb in my head
And times like these, i can hear the slow tick
Seconds to midnight
When the explosion and the atomic cloud
Rains down on me
Through fogs of guilt
Of rivers from tilted shower heads
That hide the tears that

exist only in those tiled walls

Of inebriated guts
That wrench in nausea
And wild, discomforting trenches of amnesia
Of misplaced love and loyalty
And teeth of piranha clouds, never to let go
Theres a bomb in my head
Set to go off soon
And times like these, i can hear the ticks winding down…

Loneliness is a problem. Every time I hear the elevator doors open or close outside, I keep hoping for the bell to ring. I believe in super-improbable fantasies – that the women, who don’t even know I like them, will suddenly realise what they feel about me and come running to my door. I guess thats what loneliness does. But even if this actually happens ( lets say fantasies work in real life ), I dont know what exactly I am going to do then. Most probably, I will not open the door. Because this loneliness is also a cover for me, to hide all the uncouth, rough edges that have slowly come to the fore in recent years. It is an excuse for self pity, to gain sympathy from all, to be always, always bitter about life. After all, we all need to blame someone and for me its loneliness…

There has to be a change, I feel that every day, every moment. All that has happened in the last 12-15 months cannot possibly drag me down, I can’t let that happen. And to achieve that, all kinds of impulses are running around within and without. Buying habits are raging supreme out of the blue, just because of typical discount and sale events. Clothes, shoes, accessories that I never deemed necessary, are finding their place on my monthly bills. There is little caution to the wind, spending habits are multiplying and although deep down I know this is unstable, I still go through with it. Like a challenge – I can be different, I will be different. 

Never Settle. Sorry One Plus, but the tagline seems so apt.

You are the unsettled one, the one holding a lone drink in an obscure corner of the world. Everything seems to move around you, in different transports of life, yet in their own places. You are the only one who doesn’t have a fixed place except for that one unknown corner. And that is no place to be. There’s no physical address to your existence, you never belong to anyone or anything. You are the hapless yellowed leaf tossed about in the tumults of a raging river. You have never known where you belong, only an elongated trial period of trying to fit in, putting a square block into a round hole. You have failed and you are back in the corner with the drink in hand. Depths of glasses have no eligibility criteria.

“I need someone, to show my place in all of this.” Its not so easy Rey. We are all struggling. We haven’t got out of the corner. You haven’t, and nor will you in the near future.

Never settle. You never will.

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