Thursday, 1 December 2016

Winter jingle 2016

Tingling legs, aching head
sneezing all the way
Oh what pain it is to wait
forever in the cold bus bay
Tingling legs, aching head
wheezing all the way
Oh what pain it is to wait
for three quarters of my day
Dashing through the snow*
on an overcrowded day
o'er the pavements we go
tumbling all the way
Clutching the yellow poles
shutting our eyes tight
oh, how much we whine and cringe
and hope to get home tonight
Tingling legs, aching head
gazing all the way
Oh what pain it is to wait
for the morning's very first ray
Tingling legs, aching head
snoozing all the way
Oh what pain it is to wake
and find that I have no say.
*Plagiarised from the original, thereby sacrificing factual accuracy that I am yet to experience my first commute on a snowy day.
P.S: I wrote this at work this morning after what proved to be my most challenging winter commute yet (90 minutes of frost). I'm sure I have had equally bad, if not worse, experiences before, but my brain seems to be adept at erasing even recent memories fairly quickly. I suppose that lets me move on to silly things (proof above) that will distract me from the looming horror of this evening's bus ride back home. But who cares... it is the season to be merry! And so, looking at the bright side of life, I wish you all better bus rides in 2017!
P.P.S: Punctuation was thrown out of the window for this post.

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Juvenile poetry 101

I spotted this really old post in my drafts today and fancied giving you a few chuckles, if you like.

Autumn has lasted long,
the leaves rustle in the breeze;
they are blown away into the distance beyond,
flowers lift their heads.
The brook breaks into a song,
the trees whisper to each other simple nothings;
the birds chirp and take flight,
the sun smiles at me from behind the mountains.
I feel the grass in my hands,
the breeze now caresses my hair;
I open my eyes...
this is no winter;
spring has just begun,
it looks like it is here to stay
for a long time now.

Thursday, 7 April 2016

Hello from the other side.

Dear one,
Yes, you and I are dear to each other, just the way it ought to be for Us to live in peace. Fractious walls between us will come to no good. The day you separate Me from You is the day you lose Yourself. I fear that day is not too far away.
Subconsciously, you have begun placing the foundation for this divide. In your heart, you yearn for love and recognition. You have never asked for it. You have never wanted it. The luxury of validation has always been present in your comfortable existence and you have basked in the warmth of that wonderful feeling. That perfect blend of confidence and pride when ego is largely absent defines you. I know You and that's how I know all this.
But now, you face ridicule. Even in your perceived self-perfection, there are cracks from a hammer chipping away at your exterior. The hammer serves to destroy you from outside and then will you to build imperfect walls within. Malice is barely concealed and derision works hard to break your soul. In your heart you fear living a barren life- devoid of love (unconditional or otherwise) and appreciation.
But do you really think it is that easy to lose love? And do you really believe that a lack of appreciation will kill you? What is this deep-seated insecurity that you are adamant in making your own? That taunts, jibes and general contempt serve to shake your very foundation? When did you find it so easy to lose trust in people and their inherent general goodness? Why would you want to let your ability to love vanish? It saddens me to think that one day, the meaning of the word 'unconditional' will become irrelevant in your psyche. I grieve more to see you go down the road of hopelessness and crushing apathy.
You live in a glass house and you lend your help to the hands that throw stones at you. And in those ruins, you seek to build meaningless walls because you fear that you will be naked to the world outside. One day these towering walls will christen themselves 'Ego' and intimidate my quiet voice with their loud rumble. But, you know what they say... "The meek shall inherit the Earth". These walls will, one day, crumble at your feet. And I will be around to see that triumph, just as I am here with you now witnessing the beginning of your downfall.
Hi there,
Thanks for stopping by for a fresh bout of introspective gargle on this blog page. It's rather sad that I'm prone to more introspective spurts than most other people. Or maybe not.
On yet another WiFi-less long commute to/from work, I got my head going about a letter from my past self. If I had written myself a letter in the past, warning my future self about potentially destructive tendencies that I would acquire, would my life have been for the better now? Will I have been prescient enough to be able to transfer pre-emptive wisdom to an older me? I like to think in the affirmative.


Friday, 29 January 2016

"After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

Dear Joanne Kathleen Rowling,
Thank you.
For your wise words.
When the mind is too stubborn to immerse itself in obscure philosophies spanning our planetary surface, you give us characters that offer counsel to the picky mind.
You give us people going through the pain of grief and separation and loneliness. And you let us know that it is universal. Suffering does not make you special. Coming through it out on the other side unscathed by the fire of sorrow does. Giving up on life is an insult to the memory of those that placed their own dreams and hopes in us.
You also let us know that our loved ones are never far away from us. Death may do us part on the physical plane but they blaze on in the fire of our hearts. Showing us that they have given us our life, and our life its purpose. And without purpose, we are nothing.
You give us heroes that live around us and in us. The heroes that lead us on our way, when we lose our direction. Like a Patronus offering a glimmer of hope in the dark.
Thank you.
For letting a young mind see the importance of it all ten years later.
We have courageous people- in life and in the pages of a book- to look up to. You may not be the only one lending a helping hand. But you certainly mean a good deal to those that grew up reading your work.
With love to you and the pillars of strength that hold everything in my world together.

Sunday, 3 January 2016

Resolutions 2016

I'm terrible at mainstream new year resolutions but do fairly well at this.

Happy 2016!