Works of RK

Have you been to places that time forgot Have you seen those faces lost in thought Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately Are you the same woman that I knew once,  or is it the one that I lost?    Do you, when you close your  eyes,  see those phantoms from our past? Of all the faces that flicker on the screen Is there some that of me reminds? This road has some travel left And these journeys are often long, One day when all this is done You and I will sit along And for every year of your neglect My dear, you will sing me a song.

Life burns up at rate faster than meteor showers. Before we have had a chance to blink, our moment is over, like the lives of those who came before. I have never tried to make sense of this hurry to consume, could never comprehend why it is so difficult to slow down lives pace, live a little more. A few lines from Auden's As I walked out one evening provides some solace. 'I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky. 'The years shall run like rabbits, For in my arms I hold The Flower of the Ages, And the first love of the world.' But all the clocks in the city Began to whirr and chime: 'O let not Time deceive you, You cannot conquer Time. 'In the burrows of the Nightmare Where Justice naked is, Time watches from the shadow And coughs when you would kiss. 'In headaches and in worry Vaguely life leaks away, And Time will have his fancy To-morrow or to-day. Or maybe a couple of lines fr...

Should you hear a puppet talk, would it say goodbye every time the show is done? The darkness that lurks behind heavy draped curtains don't let in light, would you hear it every say good night? Should someday a streetlight talk to you, would you hear it say in the dead of the night, walk my my walk walk my way?

Puppets on a string, strung together to the puppet master, each playing a role that goes beyond our persona's, our beliefs, our lives. Like my Grandfather, I live through life and those who know me, through me knows him. The same old die that the maker left behind, keeps creating likes of me for ever more. All the places that I will ever see are places I would have seen before, all the faces I will ever wear will be faces I have donned before. In me is everything that is there to be, in me is my personal definition of eternity. Scratch the surface or bleed me through, all the colors that you will see are colors that are part of me. I am one with all my selves, I just love to be.

How are you doing Raj? M doing well. Living life little little Why little little, live full full No, if I live full full, I will die young, I want to live long, so I live little little for long long :)

I still remember my first date with a water fountain. Hyderabad airport was newly built, everything gleamed in chrome and the signage were awesome. I saw that they had done away with the paper or plastic based water dispensers, there was a "fountain" instead. The instructions were clear, press here and slurp (yeah, I am aware of the connotations). There was even a photograph of a caucasian blonde drinking out of a fountain, ...made it all look like something very up market and sexy. How could I be left behind? I pressed the right button, made myself look all elite, bent my tall frame into an odd geometrical shape, opened my mouth in an angle that closely resembled palsy (with due respects to all sentiments)... Nothing happened! I fumbled with the switch again and pressed it hard. The girl next to me got the first shot of water in the wrong places, and shrieked! it is five years now. I gave it a good three years to learn how to drink out of these fountains, and then certified ...

For the time that I did not have with you, I do not blame you. For the time I had but could not spent, I do not hold myself guilty. I have observed that Life follows its own mysterious  rules. Some cycles are short, some long and winding, never ending. What roads will lead us on to each other again, I do not know. That our paths will ever cross again, I cannot guarantee. How will it be, should we meet again, I cannot foresee. I live with my inability to learn from my past, I love my inability to predict the future. This life does not run on my terms, I am not the driver of this carriage. Should the wild northern winds that power my journey, breeze me your way, we shall meet again. And then what we go on to become, is between you and me and my chauffeur, destiny.