Kabhi nahin jaanaaaa.......

It’s almost a year since I blogged. Just now went through the old ones; some things struck, though the degree of melancholy or nostalgia was at a few notches lower. Seeded in the thought whether life really changed.

Did it? Yeah, first thing, have started doing some work. That’s heartening for sure, and really enjoying the fruits of it, sans the past money though. Personally, struggling to find too many changes. Remember her saying that people seldom change.

If the last twelve months have done something good, then it is making me a little less complex, hopefully. Yeah, the muddled up thoughts, egos and the fear of truth remain, but then in consonance with a refreshing freedom. The freedom that has brought in a few lasting smiles, though bordering on recklessness. The word ‘enjoyment’ has a place but at the cost of a hard decision rolling over quite a few castles in the sandy patches of heart.

Playing on the lips are the words of a beautiful rendition. The title showed, 'Sona' and 'abhi nahin aana' below that, if I remember correctly. Nonetheless like to sing it as 'kabhi nahin jaana'. It’s beautiful. Hope I could sing it for both of them. Kabhi nahin jaanaa………...

Long Way to Grow

Days haven't been the same, though no escapede from the neverending feeling of idle contrition. Life around stood out, unlike the life inside.

The feeling of compassion towards Kamaluddin, the driver, who had to face the ugly consequences of insanity.
The feeling of compassion forcing myself out of the car, setting me up for the natural intervention, but then the zig-zagging heart, hitting the fear of risk stopping my limbs, and reducing me to a few words of noise.
The true feeling of compassion came from Nisha, when she faced up to the stone of a cell phone, saying 'eriyadi' (throw, you *i*c*) and from that wonderful lady whose concern almost gobbled her up.
These were moments after a small scratching accident followed by (wo)manhandling of the puny looking driver by a local. Taught me that there is a long way to grow before I respect myself.

This was a few days back. Lately, it was party time. Went along with the world around, still with those toothless laughters, colourless postures and humourless words.

Am I being too hard on myself? Let me see and soften and stop.

Lessons on Salvation

Life has got better since i started reading more about the real estate sector than cricket at office. Gives a giant feeling of satisfaction. Especially after working about 60% of the office time, how can the laziest of all like me not experience salvation?

Had a long chat with a friend yesterday. Feel nice contributing to solving his problems and more importantly make him appreciate my problems. Wonder which is more important in life. Yeah, it's the latter, meeting the hunger of selfishness.

Days and numbered as ever,
So much to do, but never
Fill the thoughts with fire,
In the face of nature's ire.

Days threaten to be the same,
Lets make it an edgy game
My heart says the same,
Salvation the name of the game.

Passions

Sayonara to the Salmiya Garden

Got to put it down here for myself to read about an year from now.

Her head was covered in red. She wore a T-shirt of the same colour. She had large feminine features (which in retrospect could have been the reason). Fair and beautiful as most of the girls in this part of the world are. Looked a bit too old to be addressed a girl, but I prefer that, since I know well enough that ladies prefer to be redressed as girls.

The first time I saw her was when I took the first round in the garden. she was on the phone, alone. My eyes struck red (not on the scarf, but the T-shirt), and her eyes struck mine. Second time she was eager to meet my eyes. Third time, she had a half-smile on her face. Fourth time, what do you expect??

I couldn't find her. She finished her walk and left.

Her eyes (whichever) lingered when I took my last round in the garden. Going to be missed, once I leave Kuwait, not her eyes, but the garden.

Where I felt that I am in my own country,
Among my own people,
Where I could dream carefree,
Where I enjoyed the breeze (they call it dust-storm)
And the once in a bluemoon rain,
Where I used to lie on the grass
And count the stars.

Few more days before I say,
Sayanora to the Salmiya garden.

Love, forever

Can keep on writing;
Recall, relive and relish all those beautiful moments.
Can write to you about the reasons and reasoning
For all those acts of love and some of sheer immaturity
But I know nothing would vindicate me
From the vindictive fact that I hurt you.
I would just enjoy every bit of our relation,
Hoping that mine would spill over to you,
Erasing the hurtful feelings that I've caused.

This wasn't meant to be posted, though felt nice when I re-read these words. Wanted to make sure that I don't lose the memories of those heartfelt moments.

On the tangent, feel better to be financially secure post the bumper lottery of a performance bonus. Couldn't find a more apt phrase to represent my ways of lethargy and the scot-free compensation for that.

But then as cleared in a conversation, what matters is the satisfaction from work till the time one gets married. post that.... how the family feels about life....seems so, will confirm later. Anyways money comes at the fag end, which hardly ends.

Going to be frequent here for sure.

Except when ...

Except when it’s you’nme ‘n our dreams

Endless sobs and the pricking heat
Heartless beings and the formal beat
Less than the least makes my world
Turns me a beast of the strangest mould.

Tossy, me in the world of fate,
Tossing it away to you, my mate,
Jostling through the silent shouts,
Pillowing through the violent bouts.

Little did I make your breathes easy,
Always said my life is sleazy,
Winning ways turn absconding screams,
Except when it's you'nme 'n our dreams.

Soothing, the waves of flowing music,
Pray for them to turn me amnesic,
But for the sound of your smiles
Let my thoughts travel miles.

yours,
Passions

rounds, friends and flirtations

so many bodies in this universe, wonder why God made them all round. maybe that is the pattern he likes;
life, death, life…
tears, smile, tears…
violence, tranquillity, violence…
hatred, love, hatred …
everything seems to be moving in circles. fair enough, circles look better than straight lines, but then when the circle is completed, it’s life, tears, violence and hatred, rather than death, smile, tranquillity and love. this is what I don’t like. it reaches a standstill at that point, as if the compass needle has to be changed till it can be continued.

enough of complaints now, let’s talk about something better.

was thinking about friends on Friday. an open-heart imagery for almost a day, with two, who seem to be communicable, and more importantly sentient to what i meant. and it appeared at the end that am a different person. talking to somebody so new in my world can bring this; baffling, really why am i unable to gain solace from those who have been very much a part for some time? again definitely my mistake, or maybe whatever exhibited lacked the trueness to sustain.

yeah, and something, this time exciting (for whom? obviously for me)
the process of getting official documents from a company in Egypt requires talking to a secretary. talked to her once before going to Egypt for arranging meetings. she has a nice name and more importantly a nice voice. went there, met her boss, but not her. never thought abt it (really).
now when i call her to get the documents, she says that she missed meeting me. and my answer was predictable, 'not sure who missed whom'. casual flirting. called again to remind her to send it, and she seems to be in the same mood (obviously me too, no, the intentions of the call were right, the company pays, you know). over, but why am i thinking about it as if it's strange? because of not being used to a girl initating even a micro flirting session? maybe,
hopefully she sends it soon, so that there are no further flirtations, thoughts or blogs on this.

it's alright, it has been tough, bound to be struck by something that's an aberration,