Month: December 2005

There is a point to which sadness can take someone. Will it take
someone on an upward curve into happiness? I wished for it. I wish for
it and I will wish for it. Though there is nothing I feel in my five
senses to back my wishes. To be honest with you I can tell you with
guarantee that I am the saddest person in this world right now. But at
this moment I am thinking deep when is the last time I was happy for a
long time? I don’t even know. Well… every moment that came to my mind
was a moment I smiled looking at the happiness of others.

This is something I pulled out of my Old CD. I am really truly
overwhelmed by some feeling now. I just can’t even type properly. I
will return, when? Mmm good question I am asking myself. In about 24
hours or may be early. This round may go further. But you know no
matter who is not there for me, there are those invisible hands of God
I always fall to, that comforted me in being the best creations on Earth
with absolute perfection of making me who I am.

The ladder climbed gave a thought,
Lead to the way above,
Burned the bridges behind,
Erased mind for everything new,
The pastures filled with promises,
The golden rays of the rising sun,
The soothing smell of the summer wind,
But never realized where the ladder led,
Was nothing but a bunch of clouds,
On which I played my game,
The cloud blessed the land beneath,
And vanished from beneath my foot,
And here I am lying in bed,
When the whole world lives I sleep,
And when the whole world sleeps I just dream,
About a day I may live,
Like the whole world that surround me now.

In February this year, my niece gave birth to a baby girl. I was not
there when she was born. In May this year when I visited India for Visa
stamping I visited her. Athiqa Mariam instantly won me over. Monday
evening my sister Neena and my niece brought her to my moms apartment
and I was online and saw her playing around through the webcam. WOW
that was a wonderful sight and I miss holding that little hand. I also
noticed how much my niece Nilu changed as a mother from a young little
stubborn girl. Here is a picture my nephew Omar Farooque took with his
cellphone  and a poem I wrote.

Athiqa Mariam

Small Lives.

The dreams cherished about the little ones,
Those little hands held and guided along,
Those little smiles that sparkles like stars,
Kindling the sparks of life, frozen by the past,
With thoughts and words filled with innocence,
With imagination that goes beyond every domain,
Seeing the remains of life in a way seen,
By those who have seen our own little life,
Patience and kindness lead to insight,
And all in turn leave in mind, far-sight.
Motherhood and fatherhood is not an inherited gift,
When holding those hands everyone should learn,
When patiently guiding those minds, should think,
That the reality to which everyone is linked,
Is embedded in the links than the unknown it surrounds,
Men become fathers and women mothers,
Only when they become reasons,
For the passing of at least a life through the mortal world.
And link life to eternity.

Rough day, I reached office late. Then some slimy guys were playing
with the network and it took about an hour for me to login to the
system. I was drowning from the word go. I couldn’t do much with the
programs I am working on as the Unix servers came online only towards
the end of the day. Work sucked all day.

  I have no friends I am no friend of anyone either. So it’s okay
for me to do whatever I want. Well… I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even
took my pen to write. The only thing I enjoy doing also I kept at bay
thinking about a girl, whose love is impossible to attain.

  I took this old piece I wrote like a long time ago. I was
thinking why did I wrote this? It means nothing to my life.  May
be some of you can derive some meaning out of this piece of verse with your love life.

The silence between the words of love,
Means more than love you loved,
All your life, everything, every way,
Wishes that bless with fulfillment
And banishes the world of difference,
Between two hearts known,
Only in the sense of love,
Where there is nothing in between,
The love of one another,
Where every thought defines,
The soul of the other.
When in this perfection life entangles,
A heaven is made on earth,
Where flowers bloom every moment,
Where every word one say,
Defines the life of the other,
Where in the heart of the other lives,
The blessings of the other,
And life bless with more life,
Where every living moment fulfills,
Dreams yet to be seen by the other.

Have a wonderful week ahead of ya.

I seldom make promises as I know if I couldn’t keep a promise I almost
melt in pain. Couple of days back I made a promise. I will keep it with
flesh and blood, if that’s what it takes to keep it.  Don’t worry
its just a family tradition of the Ashan’s (that’s my family name in
India) we always keep our promises but I never seen any Ashan spilling
blood at all hehehe.

 Another poem from the Old CD. I never thought I will release
these poems at all, as they were all very personal reflections. But I
just don’t remember why, when, where I wrote this poem. Now when I read
it, I thought it is worth reading it. So my xangans, friends, Darling.
Here is my verse for the day.

The Forbidden Kiss.

With a pledge to romance,
About the moment of rendezvous,
With love, oh my love.
With a pledge to my heart,
About the soothing feeling you bless.
With a pledge to every creation of almighty,
About the blessings to humanity our love gives,
Waited with a soul filled with love,
To share with you in a way I try to express here.

That which you see gets embedded,
With that which you hear and smell,
As it all touch deep inside,
And merge to paint the walls of the mind,
And brew the sweetness that pours,
To the tip of tongue and lips,
Which when shared with you,
Gives love an unforgettable touch,
With a feeling in every way real,
That dissolves the meaning of the word ‘Forever’
In my first kiss to you,
That gives love, life, beyond eternity.

What in the world stopped you and me?
What in the world stepped in between?
To forbid the world another moment of glory,
Of the greatest achievement of humanity.

Here is a song in my mother tongue language in India. The language is
called Malayalam. I got this link from my brother in India. I love this
song a lot even when I was a teenager. It’s a stream link just click on
it and it will play. The music is a lot different with a lot of
instruments played. Tell me what do you think about it. I’d love to
hear from you all. Okay.

The Singers name is K.S.Chitra. Kunnimani Cheppu.

Long time back when I was in India, I met a girl and was very friendly
with her. We did not had any romance at all. At least that’s what I
thought. But when it came that I should go and spent sometime learning
more about writing and poetry. I told her she should find a good nice
husband after she told me that she likes me a lot. She told me that I
will live the rest of my life as the ‘LonelyPoet’.

  Said that…. Later in my life about four years later I met the
perfect girl I was looking for all my life. I called her “the blessing
of my life”. We have had a great time together. But there were a lot of
people jealous of us being together and I started hearing a lot of
stories connecting her and other guys. I wrote a poem at that time
which I shown to her and she said,” you should’ve never written a poem
like that”. In another three months things changed dramatically with me
finding her sitting behind another guys motor bike. Lot of arguments
and questioning went on and I was proven wrong that the guy in fact was
her cousin taking her to the doctor. She left me without saying much.
She is now married with four children.

  The poem I wrote is one of the poems that survived from my
writings in India. I burned everything I wrote till that time except a
diary kept during that time. It was an act to leave all memories
behind. I made some modifications to the original version which after
coming to United States I rewrote when I was in Indianapolis. Today as
I was sitting alone in the quietness of my hotel room I thought about
those events and I also thought everyone whom I like either don’t like
me or were already taken. I took the poem out of my old CD and did some
changes and added the last paragraph.
 
The Curse Of The LonelyPoet.


From the day I remember things in life,
Hazy but comforting a face in mind I saw,
For a glimpse of the real I waited,
But without a sight I outlived time.

When in life the smile of love I may see?
Don’t know the fate don’t know the secrets of the feeling,
All guesses and unfulfilled wishes,

Oh’ the winds changed its course,
Like bunches of fresh blossomed Jasmine,
In front of me you stood as the fulfillment,
Of fortunes, of blessings of heart,
You are the face of all blessings of mine, I said,
No darkness can fade your face from my mind,
The whole mankind may doubt and try
To change the course of my righteous love,
Otherwise mankind can’t be called likewise,
If they cast a doubt in my mind, I cursed,
The curse of loneliness will melt me,
In the flames of your conscience.

The course of time and crooked minds outplayed,
With my love for her in doubts of her sanctity,
And forever I lost her, the blessing of my life,
And forever I’ll live in my own curse.

Sam Nolte, I am sorry… this is like the fourth time I am saying this
including the comments I posted in her site. I think I accidentally
deleted a comment she left for my last post. I think I saw it today
morning but now I couldn’t find that comment. The only one who can
delete any comment is me, unless someone hacked in and deleted it.
Well… why would someone hack in and delete just that comment. Hehehe.
In all probability that was a bad accident to start with. That is what last apology is for.
  That was a wonderful comment she
left last night, though it questioned my wisdom, that comment indeed
was an eye opener. Thanks again. What it was all about was her response
to this.
“For the first time I think I am commenting on someone’s
site who is too young to read. I know my boundaries here very well I
will not cross that.”
    Sam now I know you are
not too young for anything. You are the perfect girl/lady/woman. And
above all you are my Mo Cushle. Nothing will change that, nothing can
change that. Please be sure to say at least a word for every post I
leave here it will be a wise one and if ever you are sad for any
reason, count on me I will be there for you to talk to or to lean on. I normally don’t promise anything,
when I do, I only do one kind, the good ones.
 
Now to all others, my virtual family.
 
I’d love to post another poem here but nothing looks good in another
panic Friday. Everything went south. But may be once I reach home and
stretch a bit I will be able to kiss my muse and give you all a poem.

This is a poem from my old CD. I wrote it in San Francisco, sitting
with Valentina my ex-girlfriend in the Irish Cafe at Union Square. I
saw a homeless couple sitting in front of the Starbucks nearby. I just
named it.

You all have a wonderful Weekend.

Sleeping Innocence.

Oh the little child that sleeps on the street,
Of the homeless couple that lives in the alley,
Not seeing the darkness that covered the globe,
Asleep in peace with the warmth,
Of the bosom of the her loving mom.

Sleep O’ Child; sleep in the warmth of your mom,
The world has little to offer you,
So the fate your parents living through,
But those meager things they offer,
Will let you sleep in the warmth of unconditional love,
And wake up untried,
When the mornings aren’t dark anymore.

Wow wee, what a day. I am getting squeezed from every corner. First of
all I added 8 pounds in the last 4 weeks all across my waist. Second,
my love, my sweet heart I think had gone extinct, haven’t heard from or
seen for a while now. Third, this work I am doing which I am supposed
to finish by January 30th got preponed to December 19th. That is one
heck of a screw up. I have to work like 14 hours a day to finish this
whole thing by that time. I will be burned out by Christmas time.

  The good part is when I really get crushed like this I write
well. So if anyone is thinking that you can see shorter poems you are
way wrong. I am planning to finish the entire Tess poems and another 7
more large poems by the end of this year. Where will I get the time?
Cut my sleep from 4 hours a day to 3. haha.
 
 I’ve heard couple of people saying that I was drunk when I posted
the pictures and called myself genetically mutated pineapple. I still
call myself that. Well it looks much bad than that now, I shaved so now
I call myself rotten bucket of mashed potatoes. But here is the truth…
I don’t drink… never touched alcohol in my life, because I am a Muslim
(a good one not the kind that explodes in markets and buses). It is
haram (illegal) for me to be intoxicated. You may call me crazy… I
won’t agree. But I may quote a line from a song. “I am not crazy… just
a little unwell”.

This poem is for My Darling.

Heaven

I woke up with a shout at myself,
“Hold on to the view in the minds eye,
There is more life in there flourishing,
Than the animation going on around.”

The mockery by time so irresistible,
The cruelty of the lucky few, unbearable,
Oh’ all vanity became insanity,
Logic and reason in another galaxy, vacationing,
Every bit of life gathering rust and mold,
And back to my sleep I fell,
With pain in my heart, piercing

Upon a piece of cloud I lay for a moment of joy,
There was a cupid flying around firing arrows,
But all of them plunged into a mud pond,
And forever buried in love’s sorrow.

Up from the cloud I saw all ways from my heart,
They all look same going on and on winding,
All of them ending back in my heart,
Empty and shallow with no foot steps seen,
Broken chains and wedges scattered around,
Life never seen any of these ways at all.

If it is a thousand times I will be given this life,
I will live again and again and try to win your heart,
And pray through every breath of mine,
To be buried at least once in your heart,
As that is the only heaven I know.