A Thousand Leagues Under The Sea

I'd like to spend,
a million years wondering,
silently pondering, this little
thing.
This absolutely nothing,
this meaningless vision,
this paper palace that
You call.
That you call Us.


I'd count a few,
a few countless stars
In the heaven up there
Figuring.
Calculating the geometry
of constellations
Spelling your name out
in pieces of two or three
There's so much,
so much sparkle.


I'd watch those ship lights
As they go down
Drowning like my,
Like my thoughts.
And hopefully by the time
We are dead and gone,
At least a few ship lights
Will remind them of us.
A few but
Not too many.

I'd watch the smoke rise
Out from filthy
cigarettes that floated
In unruly suburbs.
I hated them,
But I'd still watch the
Twirling rings of smoke
Just because.
They were illusions
Of suffering lives.


I'd gaze at the glitter,
The bazaars down south
Near the sea,
Because the sea
Always called.
It always called survivors
And the waves lapped
and I loved it just the same.
Because I loved it
A bit more that always.

And I dived carelessly
A thousand leagues
Under blue, oh blue water
I found.
I found peace
A dormant piece of
Unlikely hope in the blue.
So radiant, a little flicker,
Some what a bit,
some what like you.


While I stitched words
Together, words of.
Of stringent happiness
So beautiful,
Like bubbles of painless suffering.
I clung to the curtains,
Of this story you called Us.
But I loved it just the same.
Just, pretty much, the same.

Rainy Fridays :)

The sweetest realizations in Life happen when you're out in the rain. 

           

When those gleaming drops of heavenly water land on your face as you look upward to the clouds. When the sound of water, soothing as it is, creates a harmony that links strangers together. When it's simply all about running in the rain, singing aloud all the rain songs you can remember, mumbling through half of them because you obviously forgot the lyrics. But, singing anyways. Cold, stinging rain that some how manages to warm the chambers of your heart. And you have no idea how or why. 

Yesterday, was my favorite Rainy Friday. The week had been hectic, the work had piled up on my desk pretty much like a skyscraper of lecture notes that I wanted to avoid so desperately. Since the last few days, I haven't been very interested in anything at all. I don't feel like going out and playing some sport, or indulging myself in good food or for that matter, even going to a party. Life has slowed down from a fast-paced hip hop extravaganza to a nerdy anthem of sorts. And trust me, none of them really help at a time like this. I'm not depressed or happy or anything at all. I've reached a feeling of neutral boredom where I submerge myself in whatever the hell makes me feel good. 

So I actually kept everything aside for an hour, dropped by at my friend's place and then after a short interval (where we debated about where to keep our electronic gadgets) we made the most awesome decision of the day. We abandoned all the work and all the stress and more noticeably, all our other friends (hehehe that was uncalled for) to step out into the rain. The biting cold rain which could easily give all of us the 'fever'. But who cares about all that anyways. 

What really mattered is walking down the rain washed roads in hostel backyards and singing songs. What really mattered is building castles in the air, imagining the possibilities that could be and could not be. And talking about antique bookstores and french cafes and a little bit of movie romance. Discovering that our lives were so intertwined, and re-discovering that if only these lives had intersected some time before we would have had so much time together. 

Perhaps the most awe-inspiring part of this little stress-buster, was plotting story lines. My story, your story. Where will we be in ten years? Somewhere down there I feel extremely happy that I managed to bring out the hopeless romantic in my friend. Everyone has that side, few show it and few don't. But no one can deny that illustrating a little imaginative Flynn Rider or Mr. Darcy or <insert favorite person> can do wonders to matters of the heart. 

No, this shower was chilly, the cold crept into my veins and almost shattered the warmth I had managed to generate by hugging myself. This was not the filmy Indian monsoon where you can hold an umbrella and prance along in the flooded streets. This was different. But refreshing on so many levels. I realized that sometimes you just ought to let go. And sometimes even if you feel out of place, you will know that on the other side of the fence lies a world of people who feel the same way as you do. The people who love you are those who listen to you and stay up all night just to make sure you don't go to sleep with a frown. And sometimes, being different is being happy.

The rain stopped soon. The cup of hot coffee never really happened, because I was just too tired to move. And despite a million deadlines racing ahead, the next morning when the sunlight flooded into my room, I woke up with a rainbow in my heart. :)

Hey, What A Beautiful Mess This Is.

It's like picking up trash in dresses. 

On a day like this, with a light patter of rain shooting onto my window pane, I can't do more than listen to music and write and think about all the beautiful things in life I should be thankful for.

It often happens that you hear a song, and you instantly fall in love with it. And you listen to it on repeat, in your room, while reading, in the shower, in the cafe, inside the lecture hall, outside the Interview Room, and possibly in all those extra normal places where usually nothing ever happens. I don't think that this is the right method to approach a favorite song (you kind of get bored of it too soon) but then again there are songs which never burn out. 

I heard 'Beautiful Mess' by Jason Mraz after almost a year, and I fell in love with it all over again. People like music because of various reasons; some people judge an artist by the genre of music, some like the beats, some like the choice of instrument and some like the innovative lyrics. I've loved reading lyrical ballads ever since I was a child, and it is no wonder that I judge a song by the pattern of words which knit it together - the lyrics. 

                                       

 

So for a change, I decided to interpret 'Beautiful Mess' in my own words, yes pretty much like a song review. But I plan to do so against all the other interpretations that the Internet has come up about it, because strangely enough I found my own meaning to it. And I choose to do so (despite all the other lovely songs on the planet) because I think this song deserves a special mention for the combined lucidity and complexity of it's lyrics. 

 Before going on, I suggest you listen to this song, if you haven't heard it already.

Beautiful Mess - Jason Mraz

Most people think this song is about a traditional long-distance relationship. I beg to differ. Obviously, this song is about a woman, more specifically a lover of the singer's. 

But Mraz talks about a woman who is a blend of black and white. She is a jig-saw puzzle of virtues and vices. The woman is one of her kind, and she has a good way with words. She's a writer, or a poet, or a lyricist. He loves her despite all her flaws and he realizes that the fact that they have been together for so long, going through a billion ups and downs, shows how solidified their love is.  

                                                            

There is a small hint of sinful happiness in this song. Mraz believes that the girl brings a beam of joy into his life and she does it in an impeccable style of her own. So cursive, so elegant, joined together in a mix of rights and wrongs. But she is so reckless, she ends up making so many mistakes on the way, and he blames her mood swings for being the source of his happiness! (yeah, I mean how did he just do that?)

The chorus of this song is the best piece of music I have heard in ages.

Hey, what a beautiful mess this is

It's like picking up trash in dresses

Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write

Kind of turn themselves into knives

And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction

Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions dear

Cause here we are, here we are

He calls her and this whole situation "a beautiful mess". This is such a lovely contradiction. I haven't heard anything like it. She's such a mess, she's like a tray of unwanted things, yet she is so beautiful unlike anything he has ever seen. When she writes poems/songs/stories about love, her words drive through his heart like blades. They are harsh, they are blatantly rude and she has no concern for his feelings. Although she calls it fiction, he knows they are true and yet he loves to see her contradict him, because these contradictions make her what she is.  : a beautiful mess.

And what a beautiful mess this is
It's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes

And through timeless words in priceless pictures
We'll fly like birds not of this earth
And tides they turn and hearts disfigure
But that's no concern when we're wounded together
And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts
But it's nice today, oh the wait was so worth it

The song keeps coming back to 'words' which I again believe are wrenched apart from the manuscript the woman is writing about their relationship. The words they say to each other, the times they spend together. What really separates this relationship from most of the other songs that Mraz has written, is the depth of reality in it. 

And tides they turn and hearts disfigure/But that's no concern when we're wounded together. 

It's so beautiful how he compresses a whole lifetime of truth into these two lines. In a relationship, both man and woman are hurt together. You can only be perfect soul mates if your partner is like your mirror. :) You go through hell, you go through a painful dramatic sequence (yes, like in the movies), you WAIT and finally in the end you come clean and everything is suddenly worth it.

                                       

While I sit with my own collection of words and look out at the lush greens imprinted with rain, I wonder who Mraz's inspiration for 'Beautiful Mess' was. What was she really like? Was she really a woman of contradictions? The whole allure of a man of contradictions is unlike any other. I'd rely on a man who is a patchwork of a million colourful conflicts to be my inspiration. Because how can you not love someone who is so faulty but yet so real? 

I'd listen to this song on repeat for the rest of my life, but never quite figure out how the singer crafted it so well. Maybe it would take a 'beautiful mess' of a person, or a bit of falling in love. Both of which, would be wonderful :)

Bits and Pieces of Music?

This is the randomest thing I have EVER written.

I'm not in a particular mood today to actually sit down and write a long post about the Life and times of a college student. I spent most of last night tossing and turning on my bed, trying to crush a miserable discouragement that had grasped me earlier that evening.

So, I learnt a few lessons in the past five months and this post is a short sharing session.

Then of course, groaning about all the things that went wrong in Life does not lead you anywhere. When stress spills on your head, the best way to clear the mess is to cleanse the mind. If circumstances aren't the way you want them to be, simply step out of the frame and take a deep breath. If people aren't the way you want them to be, gift them a beautiful something and say goodbye.

Sometimes I just want to catch a bus ride to some random place which nobody has heard of and where nobody knows me. Somewhere peaceful and romantic and calm.

So, I have a few songs, a few bits and pieces of happy music which I have been listening to.

That's kind of how I plan to end this post:

1. Cassie - Me and You
2. Lana Del Ray - Blue Jeans
3. Owl City - If My Heart was a House, you'd be Home
4. Jason Mraz - Lucky
5. Savage Garden - I Know I loved You Before I Met You
6. Elton John - Can You Feel The Love Tonight
7. Taylor Swift - Ours

That said, I am going for a walk. :)

The Perks of Being In Second Year

Okay, so this may not normally be what everyone else is thinking. But we all are entitled to our own opinion and I guess it won't take me more than a blog post to express mine. I usually write posts about a particular topic that I am passionate about and if you are really lucky, they actually take just over three minutes to read.

However, TODAY is not about swallowing books, unworldly fanaticism or fictional characters. Today is about reflection, and actually observing the change. It's easy to say that people change as time goes by, I guess that is, in a way, the right assumption.

However, I don't think people really change at all. Circumstances change, situations change. Calamity rolls by and creation blossoms. But people remain who they are, the product of their own mix of ideas and principles. And in some instances, a product of their own fantasies.

It's been a year since I stepped into college, and *<insert the usual melodrama about dreams, aspirations and expectations>*. I met people, made some really good friends, bonded 'big time' with the people who shared the same crazy fancies like I did, and what's more, I enjoyed every second like there is no tomorrow. OK, maybe I enjoyed a bit too much. (Hint: Don't look at my Grade Book)

You know, all those wild eccentric ideas that cook up in your head when you're a freshman? The ultimate independence, the sudden burst of energy and enthusiasm to finally live your life to it's fullest? It all happened to me, and so much more. Trying something new! And discovering newer routes in life. The unprecedented FUN and action with every step. Sleepless nights, the rush of adrenaline, dancing like a carefree kid and of course, the confrontation with exams at the end of the year. It was a heavenly cycle of precious moments.

I'd like to credit Singapore for being one of the most appropriate cities for a well-rounded education. I cannot forget the blend of salty beaches, sweltering heat and posh elegance of this island that actually led me to have more fun than ever. This was primarily one of the reasons why my first year was so splendid.

While freshman year raced along and culminated in a summer paradise in India, I can never really remember much of it. It's all a strange blur of spice, exotic music and colors now. When I try to recall whatever really happened, I visualize some of the priceless 'first time moments' and that's about it. The first night-out, the first cocktail, the first dance, the first time I walked alone, the first exam, the first sleepover, the first song we got hooked on to, the first game of charades, the first birthday, the first concert, the first time I met everyone...all the first times.

And trust me, it is worth all the other lovely moments you will ever have. Because one can share a million memories with their friends, but the best way to kick-start the memories is with the first times. And the more first-times you have, the better it is, because really, it just goes to show how you keep exploring so many new avenues with your loved ones.

It's been 12 months since the start of that exhilarating year and I can say that so much has changed. We are all a family now and we do things we have always done, but in a better way. Second year should be DOUBLE the fun shouldn't it?

 But something has definitely changed in the way I look at things around me. There is no love lost between me and this sweet make-believe home that I have built here. But I guess as years go by, everyone and everything tames down to face the reality. I'm starting to appreciate all my relationships, my hobbies and my 'alone time'. I'm also beginning to solidify those dreams which have been floating in oblivion for far too long. For the first time, I'm choosing what really makes me happy and content.

I just feel that I should invest my time in activities that really matter. I want more first-times in my second year. Those times which I really wish to treasure after about, a fifty years. There's a bucket list waiting somewhere, demanding an immediate entry. That's how many plans I have lined up for myself! At the present moment, like all young people, those dreams and ambitions are bubbling through the surface of my imagination. Maybe, fifty years down the lane, (when I'm a Grandma, oh yeah!) I'll actually look back and laugh at this entire post. Life would hold a different meaning then, because Life is of that nature - ever-changing, ever-evolving.

And perhaps, you, my Reader, will feel the same too. 

A Pair Of Blue Eyes

Note: I'm in this rare romantic mood today and so, despite all the rational forces of nature, I have decided to pen down a poem. The name of which, was inspired from Thomas Hardy's novel of the same name. Hope you enjoy this!


A fine pair of eyes had he;
Cloudy hues of sapphire,
A little miracle of his own.
I spied those ocean eyes,
From the early misty dawn
Till the late setting Twilight.
They were a story unraveling.

Bright blue, dissolving the
Golden rays of sunshine.
The colours were swirling.
Daunting shapes in an orb
Retelling the mysterious past,
Reciting the glorious present.
Withholding the unpredictable.

So beautiful were those eyes,
So gladdening; all perspectives
During the nostalgic afternoons.
Downcast, while his hands played
With queer instruments of music
Those melodic fuming tunes rose
Silently into his serene gaze.

And when the Evenstar shone,
In a magnificent, rich purple sky
Never blinking, always thinking,
Reflected in those glittering eyes,
Crystal-like they looked up to heaven
Resemblance of an Elven spirit
Or a fierce magic from Lost Lands.

A fine pair of eyes had he;
Sentiments floating in the azure
Ungentle teasing when I looked.
Not half as ungentle as his burning
Cold gaze; yet soft and unwavering.
The lips curved into a smile.
I stared at that radiating Ocean...

...And those eyes, they lit up my Life.

The Finer Imagery in Life

A mere sentence with about ten words can either inflict a lot of injury to one's soul or inject them with a lot of happiness. If a statement can create imagery in the minds of readers, it goes without saying that this sentence must comprise a language which is very simple but at the same time very powerful.

Till now, I am content to say I have read less than 1.0% of this world's literature. However, the flow of writing that some of these authors exhibited have left me spellbound. So, I decided to conduct an experiment. I randomly flipped through the pages of some of the most famous novels (that were within half a meter radius, forgive me I am lazy)  and plucked out a statement from there... and now you are about to see how even a random statement written by these wonderful people has so much efficacy.

"The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification."

-Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice)

"The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is unbecoming." 

-Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"Dawn made itself felt in a gathering whiteness eastward and over the river and an intermittent cheeping in the near-by trees." 

-F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Beautiful and Damned)

" Now, is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life, and you know not whether for good or for ill."

- Arthur Conan Doyle (The Hound of The Baskervilles)

"And far away from the South, beyond the white woods of the birches of Nimbrethil, from the coast of Arvernien and the mouths of Sirion, came rumour of the Havens of the Ships."

- J.R.R. Tolkien  (The Children Of Hurin)

"I dreamed a lot, and most of it I only remember as a hodge podge of images, snippets of visual memory flashing in my head like cards in a Rolodex..."

-Khaled Hosseini ( The Kite Runner )

"You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato."

-Charles Dickens (A Christmas Carol )

And from my absolute favorite children's book:

"They are forbidden by Peter to look in the least like him, and they wear the skins of bears slain by themselves, in which they are so round and furry that when they fall they roll."

-James Matthew Barrie (Peter And Wendy) 

Perhaps the bunch of statements I have just made you put up with make no sense when they stand alone from the actual text. But, what delights me is the sweetness of language and the imagery they form in my head. I think the characteristic of a good author is that even when you do isolate such descriptive lines from their paragraphs, you can still imagine a great deal. That's why the likes of Rowling, Lewis, Stevenson, Dickens (and so on and so forth) make so much sense; that is how they won over Readers.

Westlife once sang,
 "And Words are all I have to take your Heart away." 
I believe.