I am BLUE where i matter the most

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Tears of Agony

 

She could well understand, what it all had
With all the pain and the emotional adrenal
She did try and put forth the loveable clad
As the eyeballs clashed and sympathised my tears of agony

Time for me to understand as the game turned, and as the agony unfolded in a manner unprecedented
Her tears fell and greeted my tender palms
As I savoured and looked back
And emphasised on my “agony” supporting hers

We both looked and admired the pain
That gentle smile of the aching support
The arms opened up to hug my pain
From tears of agony to tears of love, more drops could now hit the ground hard

Unparalleled love was and still is
Pure and lucid and the innocent cupid
Tears of agony we may all have
But how long can the agony survive?

© Copyright Akrox!! 2012.All Rights Reserved

Romancing God's Own Imagination

I stood and admired God's own imagination
The Ambience stood still while my soul was experiencing a gentle adrenal
Yeah, human blasphemy was far away from all the materialistic aspiration

Locked for those few moments with the transparent nature
The beauty was a hangover as I imbibed all the purity around
Hmmm it wasn't me as such; it was just my romance with the waves, the lineage of coconut and God's own imagination

© Copyright Akrox!! 2012.All Rights Reserved

Photo Credits: Ashutosh Vikram
Place to be credited: Kappad Beach, Kozhikode, Kerala

Game Changers

The Journey I Yearn

Take me to the woods deemed far

With colossal tranquility and bleeding transparency

Take me beyond the winds

Where I and agony are distant stars

Take me to the breeding ground of purity

Where I hold hands with the beryl skies and the autumn

Take me to a metaphor of heaven

Where the emotions are not thy, not my

Take me to a field plain

With no fear of skyscrapering dreams

Take me to the flowing waters

To rinse some of the dirt aided steams

Take me away from this game of clashing heydays

With chronic exercise of plasticity  

Take me away from these half won battles

Where my distinction is no more a deciding factor

Take me as I stand alone and strangled

And the soul gives a loud cry, “Take me…take me…..”

From lucid love to testosteronal arrogance

Sometime in the summer of ‘69 on his broken cot, in the natural ambi-pur of his hamlet:

“वो हसे तो सूरज भी रोशनी के प्रकोप से अपनी आँखें बंद कर ले, वो रोये तो अँधेरा भी गम की चादर ओडे रो पड़े...दूर से बैठे हुए उन्हें देखना जब सब कुछ होने का एहसास दिला देता था...उनकी यादों में इतना सुकून हैं...वो मिल जाते तो बात ही क्या थी*.." was a saying in pain…alas! his emotions could never be packeted on the emotional bandwidth;  he never had the courage to recite those golden words in her presence..she made him nervous…he shrivelled…her vision for a day was God’s greatest gift to him…his love as pure as the driven snow stood an untold story…always… forever

And then the gadgetry saying of a “Dude” sometime when he was busy messaging his girl on his iPhone 3G, in the bloated summer of Twenty12:

"Dude, I don’t think so I “love” her anymore, though I “loved” her equally as did my ex…she is a special “girlfriend” u know….but now she appears to be one blonde…u saw how she behaved in the party last night after just tequila shot ? How could she?…I think it’s time to make my way into some new unidentified territories…must inform her on my new “iPhone” ....that girl burning the dance floor seems much better…ohh yeah!"

The age where relationships can be put up on a wardrobe..when MOVE ON is no more a Fastrack-al saying…where “love” has a new definition called fashion when once it used to be nothing but just passion…where emotions have a new saying…where mind darts the dress and never looks beyond…she exposes but hides the soul….he admires and notices, but forgets to love…she messages and performs a ritual according to her but forgets to emote....where ”fattu” is a term for singles…Casanova for multiples….where love’s biggest disaster is turning late on a date…has the world travelled space? Where are the Veers and the Zaaras?  Where are the Cleopatras  and the Mark Antonys?  Among all this glitz and glamour, am I really lucky to watch T20 or unlucky not to admire the gentleness of Test Cricket? And I ask this question, Is Vintage better than the vogue? Why has this world undergone such a cosmetic surgery of its emotions?  Why.?  Alas…bring that LOVE back….!

© copyright Akrox!! 2011.All Rights Reserved
*Credit for the line "उनकी यादों में इतना सुकून हैं...वो मिल जाते तो बात ही क्या थी" goes to Akash, my flat mate in Mumbai in the summer of 2012.