Seasoning this mundane, humdrum existence with food, travel, and the written word.

Often, we end up staring at a closed door for so long that we fail to appreciate the window that has been opened for us. I've been guilty of this myself. We mourn the death of something; a missed opportunity, a failed relationship, a wrong choice, more than it deserves. We're so caught up with the glamour of what could've been and miss out on the what could be. After all, change is the only constant that we can truly rely upon. Time and Life are always moving forward and yet, we seem to be more interested in becoming stagnant. Even a pool of stagnant water is nothing, but a breeding ground. I've always wondered why we're so reluctant about trying newer things. Or adamant about moving past something that didn't quite work out. We build up these situations in our minds to a point of perfection and usually not for what they truly are. The mourning isn't for these failed opportunities, but the disappointment we experience from not having our expectations me...

That old parchment on the wall The ink has faded, the scribbles barely visible The tears that ran down her face As she inscribed her heart's lament  The smell still wafts from the old papyrus Crumbling down from the weight of his fantasies I stare at her delicate proud profile Her soft features searching for an answer Have you always imagined it to be this way? A wanderer lost, a love betrayed, a loss remedied I ran my fingers on the mossy decaying walls So many untold stories, lost and found Wars waged, a victor's cry, a defeated slump My heart ached, my fingers trembled, my knees buckled Passion knows not of logic, or bounded by falsities  Across the table our eyes will meet, a moment is all it takes A grandeur entrance it might not be, a slow uprising mayhap? A skeptic turned believer, at the red brick wall of ardor The unconscious interpreter of your soul, the eyes Mine seek them everywhere, and in everyone I discover you Only...

Bittersweet Moments Once here, gone tomorrow Taking flight on an angel's wings These pebbled lined lanes of yesterdays Serenade stories to its pedestrians  Of slayed dragons and demons fought At the foothills of the ancient mountain  Nothing ever went according to plan She rose. She flew. She landed firmly so. We built the mosaic one piece at a time This moment contains all moments I put pen to paper, one last time  The monsters in my head ooh-ed and aah-ed I may look still, but the voices in me torrential Turn around, supine angel- A waltz at her Papa's feet Butterfly kisses on her Mama's cheek Silent prayers chanted in fervor  That chilly day in November, two of us shared The giggles echoing in these shattered ruins Pinky promises made with innocent glee Old friends taught new lessons New friends paved way for sunshine Bittersweet moments Of dark intoxica...

Welcome to the Hideaway. The games of lovers,  the eternal  self denial,  the blindfolds we wear  oh so tightly, blocking out all light.  In the dream scape of a love, we hide from the horrors of truths, preferring to shelter ourselves in dreams,  from the slaps of truth.  Huddled close, I reach to touch you.  I need to be reassured, to be held close  I beg you in dreams and awake.  Love me, kill me, all the same.  Tell me sweet lies, hide the pain of real.  Make my daydreams come to me. In rushes of promises that will never be kept, Deceive me with forevers  Oh my partner, in this merry go round world  May we stay here forever?  I don't want to face being alone  In my bed of black lace.  screaming, crying, bleeding.  It's just too real  don't let truths hurt us  in our world of sweet dreams. Let us hide in the madness. I cannot deal with the truth,  the rape of all...

"Dharma Kshurasya Dhara Nishita Duratyaya  Durgam Pathas Tat Kavayo Vadanti"  -KathoUpanishad “Wake up! Don’t miss the rare chance that was given to you. F ollow the spiritual way,  start your spiritual life, before it's too late  because you were born in a human body. But remember, this way is sharp like the edge of a razor. Great wise men who followed it to the end warn us that it is hard.”     Dharma is said to be as hard to follow as walking on the sharp edge of a razor, says the Kathoupanishad. Also, it is not always very clear to the unfocused mind; Only one completely at the lotus feet of the lord acts like a mirror to reflect the truth. A lie told to save a thousand lives is a truth, but a truth that takes a life is considered to be a lie.      I write this in dedication to all the recent and past terrorist attacks. They say, History is written by winners - So, does that mean that most winners in history have won t...

               He has played multiple gigs. He plays at multiple gigs. But unfortunately, I've never seen him play at one. So today, I pictured him playing at a gig. In my head. He's described it numerous times; the way his eyes close intently as he croons to one of his own covers, the way his fingers smoothly glide over the strings, and the favorite black hat he likes to wear. It just wasn't enough. Not anymore.  So, I sat myself down today and as I let the wonderful aroma of filter coffee transform me to a different world; I closed my eyes, and I truly pictured him playing at a gig. And let me tell you, it was magical. No, it was mystical. The background noise slowly started to fade away, the hustle and bustle of the city seemed non-existent and I could hear the notes from a distant song. His rather tall frame on the bar stool seemed tailor made for him, the way his knee curved slightly-so seemed to make him look almost reg...

Isn't it sad how everything slowly fades away? No matter how strongly you felt about something at a particular moment, it eventually fades away into oblivion. You think that you'll never feel the same way again, or you think you'll never breathe again, or sometimes you even fool yourself into thinking you're going to die from the pain; and yet you're okay. It might leave a memory. Just as a deep cut leaves a scar. But the pain goes away. Once in a while, you might look at the scar or someone might notice it and ask how you ended up with it, that's when you're reminded of the incident. But otherwise, it simply fades away. Sad, but true. I wondered for the longest time, why it has to be that way and realized; it's nature's way of healing you. You simply cannot exist any other way. As strongly as I feel for you now, I know I'll be healed of you eventually. So, do I stop feeling for you less?  Do I take a step back? Do I hold back? Do I say ...