Conjured

One road leads a way, one to another, 

The longer you walk, some more you move further.

Life is a journey, it is unsustainable,

The more you dig it, the deeper you seep.

Pain is sad, I can't agree any less,

For happiness is free, just clear the cluttered mess.

Some lines are similar, some narrowly different,

People are these lines, some intense, some blurred.

Hope is delightful and music mesmerizing,

Has something happened to this world? Or did I hear just stories?

People are dreamers, some crucibles,

Who enchants your mind? is it the soul or the spirit?

Tell me your story, I'll hear your dreams,

For I know of all things, you just need an ear.

Life spits happiness, and pain as well,

Which one you wanna drown in, is up to you.

Love is tender, it hurts, it blurts,

Love is oozy, it is the oomph.

You are good, I do believe,

But changing one's thought, take no creed.

The discriminations are high, we call it judgmental,

Of course not, they are the courses we follow.

P.S. I don't even remember when I wrote it, just found it in one of my documents so posting it.

Scribbling Love

What do writers do?

Blabber, Blabber and Blabber more.

Well actually,

They Scribble, Scribble and Scribble more.

So, this night brings me to more scribbling and blabbering. I will write more shit and continue to write it until death separates me from writing. Well, that simply means you'll have to bear me and my hogwash for the rest of my life and possibly yours as well. Tonight, I am not going to talk about love, I am not going to talk about God and I am not at all going to talk about success or failure.

I will keep it plain and simple.

Well, not exactly my style. ;-)

Love, as we call it. Isn't it crucifying? We keep on thinking about love, long for it and keep waiting for it to happen. What a strange four letter word that plays with our testosterone and estrogen, makes us go weak in our knees and feel butterflies in our stomach. Is it love? Or is it just a psychological disruption? I second my second thought. Psychological it seems to me, after that I have been in love, undergone a heartbreak, fallen in love again and again... and again. It just doesn't stop and it never happened that I was ever in love with two women at a particular point of time. Well, I am no prerogative for having falling in love over and again. I just have a psychological belief that love exists and I keep on expecting to receive it. I see someone, talk to her and in a blink of eye I know that she can be the one or not. I, then, turn my pursuits on and approach. Now I don’t know if that is love or not. However, that is.

When I can strenuously and consistently believe in the existence of God, how can I not believe in love with the same passion? People say love is about understanding each other. I question, if love is all about understanding each other then what is compromising? Isn't understanding the other person's will and suppressing your own, compromising? She likes coffee and I like tea but I am having coffee just because she likes it, is a compromise. Where as love is when he/she prepares a cup of coffee and tea, and they have it together. Well, this stands as a very understated example of a subject that has a much wider scope. A similar example cannot hold good in case of buying a car or perhaps something else.

When you fall in love with a girl, at first she says - "I just want you to love me all my life." And then -

'I want that dress.', 'I want to meet your family.', 'I want to marry you.','I want the TV remote.', 'I want kids.', 'I want a house.', a new car...and on and on and on ...

Then she finally says (something that I call confessing) - 'I want a life.'

Horrid no? People call it a crazy sweet little thing called love.

If I have to summarize love, it would take me a lot more than just a few words and it would take me really, really long to express it. However, I will summarize love in some ugly true words.

Love is - Compromising with yourself for someone else. It is living for the other person and doing what he/she wants. Love is suppressing your own feelings for others. Love is essential. Like I said, love is, strange and crucifying.

They say love is surreal. Love is, but we make it surreal.