Listening to a Crow

You know what I feel. I feel the world is bullshit. Bulls shitting all around. Mean bulls with their mean intentions interacting with each other in a tranquil poise of sufferance. Sometimes, I feel like pissing them off. Off to their ridiculous self. Off you go. Off. Because I am not a bull. Don’t ever mistake me for one. Yaa… but you can, because you are a bullshitting bull.

I am a crow sitting on the bulls. Sitting on the shitting bulls. There are many like me, taking free rides from connaughtplace to hauzkhas, pecking them all the way and finding them helpless to get rid of them. Funny thought. Haah! I am crow. Kaaw-Kaaw. But you think connaughtplace is too far from hauzkhas. I say you bulls have metro. Crows are not allowed inside the metro. Aah. There I hear you saying – “No bull can travel from Connaught Place to Hauz Khas and that crows can fly.” So I say, that is all you care about? that no bull can travel from connaughtplace to hauzkhas? that crows can fly? Can’t a crow joke? Or you think only bulls can? Don’t you feel ashamed of yourself?

Bullshitting bulls. You don’t even think what made the bulls, which used to be the Mercedes once, stop travelling a diminutive distance of connaughtplace to hauzkhas. Or soul to heart. You deprived the crows of the free rides. Bloody bullshitting bulls. But I am a crow. Kaaw-Kaaw. I think about this. So I fly. I fly long long long distances. Travel from one settlement to other. Making the bulls afraid of a visiting bull. Pecking the bulls. There are bulls everywhere. Some show their body. Some the shape. I peck at them.

Some travel in their descendant. Mercedes. The pretty ones. The shape. I peck. Some have black skin with a tail from the neck. At them, I peck. Some are tied to a single pole. The foes. The friends. I peck. The licking bull-pairs who reck. I peck. Am I a poet? No, you moron. I am just a pecker. The pecker with straws and not the one with pebbles. Like the ones you suck from like the pretty (really?) ones on the screen.

I am a crow. A black one. I loved free rides on the bulls. But now I have to think otherwise. Maybe, I can float on the smoke. Or on Mercedes with the pretty ones. By the way, the pretty ones have a tendency to hide their shameless eyes and half of the face with black cowdung cakes for reasons beyond comprehension for a crow. They look sexy. The cowdung cakes. I wish to have a pair of them. And peck at the shameless eyes. And the shape. I am a pervert, you say. Yes I am. You are too. We differ because I Kaaw-Kaaw and you ruminate. Ruminate silently. And then shit. Shit about me. Shit about the pretty ones among the foes or friends. But you wouldn’t shit now because you are a gentle-bull. I have made you feel so. Sorry.

I am joking.

I know you have pointed out many grammatical mistakes. But you can’t expect me to know correct Grammar. Bulls know Grammar. I am a crow. And you say all I say is nothing but crap. Well, crows too have a digestive system. Like You.

Thousand Lives..!

The days are not the same..

As I come off my past..

The morning dews drown my soul..

The wavy breeze blows me apart..

The music of your voice..

Is something I die to play..

Your tender laugh...your gentle giggle..

Takes my breath away...

As the night melts into our souls...

And we melt together as one..

Those private whispers..those friendly jokes...

Makes my body..u being the soul..

Though you are not here...still you are with me...

I can see you..I can feel you..

Breathing every breath with you...

Swaying with you..in those rainy nights..

Is all what I live for..

Kissing away the drops trickling down your face...

Is all what I can die for..

Staying with you is my dream, my desire..

Loving every moment..Living thousand lives..

Dying in your arms is what I crave..

To make this happen..I live..that's all I can say!

What is Love?

What is love?
The feeling of being with her all the time or the feeling of being remembered by her every second..

What is love?
Those dew drops suddenly turning to some romantic poetic noun or these sunrays seeming like emerging rays from a diamond..

What is love?
Grinning all day long for every possible reason or weeping all night with that unusual smile for no reason..

What is love?
Her hair curling slowly all over your face or her eyes staring at something else and still watching you like no one ever did..

What is love?
The music of her voice piercing your heart like cupid's arrow or her fragrance mesmerizing you like the oldest wine available..

What is love?
Feeling cold in sweaty days or feeling hot in spine chilling evenings..

What is love?
The most loved romantic song playing again and again in your iPod or your favorite pineapple cake being prepared by her everyday..

What is love?
The touch of her hand on your palm giving you that satisfying sensation that you always craved for or watching her sleep like a princess and gaining that unexplained unprecedented strength to protect her from the smallest and the biggest problems one could ever face..

What is love?
The intense feeling that you can die straightaway just to retain that beautiful smile on her face or the feeling that you can live thousand lives all alone with a hope to achieve her sometime in the 4th dimension..

Love..
Its amazing.. isn't it?

But..
What is Love..?

Gone are those days...

Who am I or rather what am I?

This very question often strikes me and strikes me very badly!

Am I the one who I used to be, say, 10 years ago? No, not at all when it comes to realizing oneself and realizing the fact that this whole world is yours. Where is that innocence gone? Where is that feeling gone that everything is yours? Where are gone those days when I used to climb over long hose pipes just to feel the height and get that unusual happiness? When was the last time I held my mom's hand out of fear from the dark or sat beside my dad while watching a horror flick just to feel that I am at the safest place in the world? They are nowhere near to me at this stage of life and this is not just about me, it is for all you people who are reading this blog after clicking that link out of curiosity. Would you have done the same thing when you had just heard that there was something in this world called 'blog'? You call it wisdom, keeping the mind open and getting to know about what others think about different aspects of this life but I call it being curious to know whether what you feel about a topic, does the person opposite to you feel the same or not.

I mean, what the hell did that mean to us what others think when we were at the initial stage of our life?

We were free and happier than we are now, though we have all the freedom that we craved for at that time. I bet, the happiness that we get these days by watching a late night show or chilling out all night is nowhere when compared to the happiness that we got after getting a new toy from the market.. How excited we used to be when our dad used to bring those chocolates while returning from the workplace.. those ultra-satisfying nights when we slept with our favorite toy car or dolls beside our pillow are nowhere to be seen now.. Buy as many clothes you can, watch as many movies as you can but the level of satisfaction can never meet that!

As we grow up, we will always miss the day before since the more we become older, the more we come closer to this world and experience the bitter truths of life which our parents hid from us and suffered all alone just to give us the best they can.

I really miss those wonderful days.. those days when one movie in the nearby single screen theater meant a lot to me.. those days when I used to wait eagerly for my birthday to get those amazing gifts from my friends and relatives.. be it just a pencil box or a sketch pen set.. those days when I used to enjoy those small rides in a small fair.. and those days when I used to hold the hands of my mom and dad firmly while crossing even a narrow and traffic free road..

I miss those days when I used to live and live freely!