Wind of Change

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

- Anatole France

Settling in to a new life may have seemed a daunting task even a couple of weeks ago, but I seem to have managed alright. Two weeks in, somehow, leaving behind familiar sights and sounds, familiar faces and familiar boundaries doesn't seem quite so intimidating. I suppose I have to thank the suddenness of it all — having made a quick plunge before which there was no time to think or contemplate the pros and cons, especially the cons.

Of course, there are people I miss terribly, and I would be lying if I said that I am not the slightest bit homesick, but there are things to look forward to. I'm lucky enough to have a piano at easy access even though my own is yet to arrive here. Rediscovering music has never been sweeter... Better still, I am not as shy and reserved as I used to be even a year back, and placing myself out of my comfort zone to make new friends (a necessity in a new city) is not half as hard as I thought it would be.

It's true that only when you go through the bad can you really relish life offering you the good. As bitter as I used to be about it earlier, I am glad that I went through what I did. Lessons learnt, and hopefully, never forgotten. And knowing myself, at least now I won't feel quite so entitled to what I have been given, and truly appreciate the things to be thankful for.

Change is good. And for someone who had been feeling trapped in what seemed like a never-ending abyss of bad luck, change is life reinvigorated.

Morning Drops

As days drift casually along, and nights turn into fitful forays into the realm of dreams, only music can pull you back. Only music can draw you out and subconsciously alter your soul. It is enlivening, invigorating, intoxicating... 

I shut my eyes and poetry comes easily. The words flow, rhyme and dance about. My mind sees a beautiful blend of colours swaying to the rhythm of the soaring, soaring notes that I perceive. Tonight, I feel alive.

Simple things like singing along loudly to an old favourite in spite of a bad cold, indulging in dance steps befitting a puppet, and just being happy - it has been a while since I have enjoyed this. It brings me to believe that the oddest of things can bring you peace, and inspire you to take up an old hobby again.

Only music can make you feel this way:

"You're exquisitely extraordinary
You're fabulously fine"

The Final Cut

Red. Black. Blue. Swathes of colour storming away before my eyes.

My mind has been reeling since morning, since I heard. It's unbearable. I am barely at the fringes: the epicentre is far more devastated. But I cannot bear to think, to feel. It is too much.

Life should not be quite so bleak to good people, should not take away even the last shred of hope, the very point of their existence. I have always found questioning these things fruitless, yet, today, I am grappling for answers. There is no soothing soliloquy to be found in silence.

There is worry, of course, worry that stems from tragedy hitting so close to home. I have someone to lose. Hence, I have something to fear.

The truth hits like angry waves crashing upon rocks. One moment, the icy whiplash stings you awake, and the next, the cold dulls you into forgetting what it was like to feel in the first place.

"Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide."

I cannot imagine, don't want to. All I can ask is why.

Coming Back To Life

Sleepless nights are for those with weary hearts, or for philosophers. I'm not sure which of these I am. My nights seem destined to be restless, with my mind bordering on the edge of sleep but unable to cross over to the land of tranquil dreams.

Perhaps a part of the reason lies in the subconscious weight I carry with me at all times. Nevertheless, even after an explosion of sorts, life still goes on.

This past week has been like the calm after a storm. You pause for a moment and take stock of the devastation caused, see what you can salvage and then move forward with your life. You're still a little wary, should another tempest befall you again. Still, things slowly fall back into place and you realize that all is not lost, not yet, and perhaps not for a long time...

The songs you listen to can often be so astoundingly appropriate that it seems as though they'd been spying on your soul. And yes, Floyd never got it more right than this.

"I took a heavenly ride through our silence

I knew the moment had arrived

For killing the past and coming back to life".

No Surprises

Sometimes a day comes when what is closest to you is almost in danger of slipping away for good, all in a matter of seconds. You're rattled then, jolted out of a reverie where you'd begun to take what is dearest for granted. The spear to the heart does serve one purpose though: you wake up and realize that you'd been slipping away, and dragging down those closest to you in the process.

Nothing is worth the weathering of one's soul, all the things that make you who you are. The cost is too much to bear. While this is not a realization that I've come to arrive at today, I did understand that I cannot sit back with such insights and do nothing about it.

Otherwise, this is what my life will be. Permanently.

"A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal...

A handshake of carbon monoxide..."

I started listening to Radiohead tonight because I couldn't sleep. It's funny how a song picked up at random speaks volumes about the day. And life in general too, I suppose.

This must change. I must change.

"No alarms and no surprises please".

A Window to my World [X]

"Midnight, 

Not a sound from the pavement 

Has the moon lost her memory? 

She is smiling alone"

So it's my favourite time of day again and I am sitting at the computer and watching the world through streams of data drifting about in cyberspace. Seems like an interesting place to be, yes? Ah well, if you think about it, the Internet is a lot like Sauron's eye, enough to give me the creep sometimes and make me shy away from writing for a very, very long time. 

Nah, that's just a load of rubbish, really... the only reason I haven't been writing is that I've been busy, and lazy and uninspired during the times that I haven't been busy. Nothing particularly new given the situation in the last few months. Nevertheless, I managed to go on another trip to the hills a couple of weeks back, so that is something that has kept me fairly sane. Not that the wanderlust has faded, mind you, but it was a rather welcome break, and I've come back feeling well-rested and at peace. The mountains do that to you. Just the fact that you're a few hundred feet above regular life is like a breath of fresh air while drowning.

What has happened is that I've resigned myself to the fact that this city is my Hotel California... at least for a while. It stings a little less now than it did even a month back, but yes, time slaps you into getting used to just about anything. I am quite the believer when it comes to this.

Other than that, if I were to review the present status of my hobbies, or, my "old life", it would go something like this:

• Writing :: Mount Vesuvius
• Music :: Mount Kilimanjaro
• Artwork/ Photography :: Mauna Kea

Yes, it is rather sad that I'm comparing the state of my hobbies to dormant volcanoes. My mother would be proud of the analogy, although for completely different reasons.

Still, time never stops flowing. I recently finished watching Season Three of Game of Thrones and also the first and second season of Suits. Fun times. At least my hard drive has a few movies that I could watch to amuse myself, even though the last movie I had time to watch in the theatre was Star Trek. Now I'm certain that I sound like one of those Lonely Cat Ladies, but I assure you that I am not. Getting there? Maybe. "Not today, not today", though. 

LD out.

Sleep

Sleep, when the tragedy of life becomes too much to bear

Sleep.

It will come, it will come.

Forgo a turn, bring out the urn

Sleep.

The only path to tranquility.

Sleep, when only ashes stare back

Sleep.

It will come, it will come.

Shut out the voices, shut out the light

Sleep.

It is gone, it was never there.

There is no need to feel, when coldness is so welcoming

Sleep.

It will come, it will come.

Forget.

Let go.

Soar.

Sleep.

Hah!

It is such a liberating feeling to be able to pay your own bills, to sign off cheques with your name, to live only based on what you earn and not be answerable to anyone claiming that you have to live by their rules just because you live off them or under them! Now that is freedom.

Of course, the flip side of not being a pampered daughter who has "daddy darling" to pay for everything and whose salary is only "pocket money" is that you have to seriously grow up. Fend for yourself. Live within sometimes very limited means. Not depend on anyone to bail you out of difficult situations... in essence, handle your own shit.

But hell yeah, growing up is fun! Give me this over leeching off someone any day.

Scream

Life without music,
Most wretched disharmony
Screams cacophony.

Post It

Things I need moved here:

• Piano (the M50 preferably, but at this point, even the old Yamaha will do!)
• Guitar
• Sketchbook, pens and inkpot
• Coloured paper
• Glue

Yes, so I get terribly bored when I am not terribly stressed or terribly sad. It's terrible, I know.

A Window to my World [IX]

I sometimes miss the old me: the one who was not all that harried by deadlines, or endless post-it notes of things left to do. The one who had time to stare at the people passing by on the streets and wonder what their lives were like. The one who read voraciously and wrote furiously and lost herself in music. Time can be quite cruel, especially when it slowly squeezes bits of life out of you.

It is not as though I only have things to complain of. Good things have happened, yes, and convenient things have happened too. Yet, I wonder sometimes whether I have lost myself somewhere in the middle of all that is to be done, and forgotten the person I always was.

Life is a little lonelier now, especially given how almost all my closest friends are scattered all over the country. They're busy, I am busy. The story of everyone's life. Having new people you can share a couple of laughs with helps, of course, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't yearn for those days that I spent watching stars from a friend's terrace, surrounded by my favourite people in the world. Ah, nostalgia!

I recently visited North Sikkim with my closest friend and a really fun bunch of people. It was a much-needed break from routine. The wanderer within had been making its presence felt for quite some time, and it was good to get away from the city for a while. I got to use my new dSLR properly too, so, there was some salvaging of my former hobbies! It's a beautiful place, with fine, kind people, and of course, I'd never say no to a trip to the hills.

Hopefully, a few things that I hope work out, will indeed work out. Life may or may not be easier because of it, but at least I'll know that I gave it a shot. For now, I try to get a few evenings out with the friends who are still in the city. My closest college friend and I can't seem to be able to spend more than a week without meeting and having a blast!

Perhaps I might get to go on another trip after a few more months... It's definitely something to look forward to! In any case, it's back to work for now. LD out.

Wake

Darkness fails my eyes
The cold speaks through its silence —
That thread is now cut.

The last journey completed
And with it, the last respite.

We face, but do not see,
Turn back to find no shadows —
The moon sighs softly.

Darkness descends upon us
The forest murmurs its peace.

You lie unmoving,
Moonlight shines upon my tears —
The final goodbye.

Cordelia Won't Come

Good King Lear, what is it that you fear?
Is it your kingdom or your soul that you hold most dear?
Look upon the battlefield, at the blood and the glare
At the demons and the beasts that tear asunder your lair —


Old King Lear, what is it that you fear?
There is no sorrow greater than the lost value of a tear
Your body lies frail, your muscles as weak as your mind 
As you’ve driven away all those who have tried to be kind.


Dull King Lear, what it is that you fear?
Your body’s battle is lost — as for the war, do hear!
The firmament bids you welcome to adorn it as a star
For you’re due any moment to give in to Death’s compelling power.


Craven King Lear, what is it that you fear?
Do you hope for redemption as your end draws near?
There is no forgiveness or hope awaiting you round the bend
No Cordelia around this time to nurse and mend —


You thought her mad, of course, when she spoke sour truths?
You knew her wicked, of course, when she warned you ’gainst those brutes
“No sweetness in such a wretched ungrateful child!”
No sweetness in the shroud you sewed for yourself all your life!
Well, tonight as you lie: your final night
There will be no one to watch and mourn your pitiful fight
For dearest, sweet, kind Cordelia is gone
And as much as you pray, Cordelia won’t come.

Checkmate

Half a year has whittled by

With tears left running until they're dry,
Strewn chess pieces led astray
Fallen knights among them kneel to pray
To embittered gods of chess
Who care naught but to scorn and suppress;
Fighting folly play by play
An ill-fated race for those that stay,
Before the last piece descends
Down that dark road where no more amends
Can halt the flowing of years
Into the dark abyss of my fears.

The king of Will has been slain
His subjects slaughtered across the plain,
His queen forced upon by Fate
Her Will silenced without much debate
For her cries could not have saved
A doomed kingdom from the path Fate paved.

Night has crept in silently
Encircling my heart most violently,
No more tears remain to fall
As despair is let loose from its stall
With half a year more to see
The empty chessboard that's haunting me.

Boo

I really dislike it when people leave their incomplete stories hanging. Then again, who am I to talk? I do the same. :P

There's so much that keeps happening. Not that I am complaining really. "No effort is wasted" is something that I swear by. Still, it is nice when you get time to breathe once in a while.

I've decided that I shall be scatty today. That is, during my breaks from the work that I must get on with if I wish to get a degree and move forward with my life. So I'll be pottering around all day (hopefully) and also indulging in a bit of excitement-induced-chicken-dancing now and then.

See? I'm already scatty and I haven't even gotten started! :D In the light of all that has happened, I am hopeful that the day will be good.

Oh and I started following Nathan Fillion on Twitter! I can't believe that I waited so long! I mean, Castle! And Mal! The guy is actually hilarious. And he even likes Game of Thrones! *shakes head and mutters something about a general pact with self about not following celebrities* Ah well.

So that's it for now. Perhaps there will be some raita that I can rummage from the refrigerator, bwhahahaha! Live long and prosper!

Ciao.