Sunday, November 29, 2009

For someone who is afraid of close relationships lest my space is violated... networking is godsend
No I am not one of those lonely souls who is living in a shell. I like my small group of close friends whom I meet and talk to when I can. But I am crowd shy.
I like the space that networking sites offer me. Where I meet known and unknown friends across the virtual sea. It isn't unlike any other form of relationship. Except you can choose to get in touch with them personally or just air your thoughts while your contacts are free to water them or ignore. It’s like going to a work place where you meet familiar friends every day ... but never physically. You only share good moments. You can sign out any time you like. You can ignore. You can look into the window that they open for you and not beyond to see what goes in their lives. You do the same. There are no unwanted visitors that you have to attend to. You can shut out when you are in a mood to hibernate. You can revel when the spirits are high. Knock on doors... leave a message. See their kids grow up... or where they have traveled.
It’s strangely public and yet private.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Permanent in past

Future uncertain like writings on sand
Short lived, changing…
With every wave of whims and dreams
Wishes run amok like wild horses
Painting the blank canvas
With splendid colors
Wants displacing needs…
Sweet desires building castles of glass
Fragile, precariously hanging on the precipice
Shimmering in rainbow colors
Like a floating naked bubble
Destined to perish to nothingness
Future like a slow conveyer belt
Looming ahead, approaching…
Excitable fearsome hopeful

Time passes through the doorway
Of the present moment

And then

Engraved on marble now
Joyful or sorrow but
Relegated to the archives of history
Stored in perfume bottles of nostalgia
Recorded as mere statistics
Etched in distant memory

Hopes die
Battles are lost
Dreams are shattered
Hearts sink
Tears inundate

You cannot do a thing
And all that you try to do
Changes nothing
You can hit
Prick. Kill.
But time marches on
Dangling the carrot of future
Seemingly malleable
Destiny follows like the faithful shadow
Ticking the correctness of events
As was intended always
As was written
As it slowly sets
Into the unalterable past