Sunday, August 29, 2010

Hey Life, You are so boring!!!


Now . . .

The journey is halved,
Age is getting dark,
And
Loss starts composing it's prices.


Running trees want
to rest under loneliness of broken sun . . .
Shadows keep talking with rain drops
While
I'm still craving with my soul's scout.


It's painfully hard
to choose a spot
between the point of optimism
And
the point of pessimism.


Know that I am still far . . .
Quite far enough
to reach through the absolute truth
And
not to grab pieces of escapism.


BS
29 August 2010
7:21 pm

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

A Visit

A Visit
First, curious smiles
Second, delightful shouts of welcome

Then
Questions
Answers
Questions
Answers
Questions . . .

Step sTep stEp steP

Stained dust, stained with bloody red by betel.

Throwing bricks breed a rhyme;
Sigh to the catching hands
and
Claps to the throwing hands.

Mosquito net swung
swung along with moving silhouettes of flowers
Lightening teased stars,
Shine
Dark
Twinkle
Shine . . .

Then fireflies arrived!!
Leaving phosphorous trails ~~~
Mind murmured,
"You would not believe your eyes,
If ten millions fireflies
Lit up the world as I fall asleep"
I know, Owl City's.

A cow's breathing was haunting me
Stay sTay stAy staY
I drunk boiled milk in the morning
A cup for me
A cup for cow's son
A cup for granny
The rest my aunt cooked
Yummy!!

Smell of Thanatkhar,
Tall trees' hang over,
And pregnant sesame,
My uncle was trying to multiply them.

Imagine granny's tales ~~~
She told me
She was twenty when
English soldiers invaded
She run and hide.
Back to village (for a while)
Japan soldiers invaded
Again she run and hide!
Japan soldiers broke the door of house she hide,
They looked at her
Then they left
I tell her
Ha Ha Ha !!

Horse carts wore leaves
Granny told me . . .
A jar of tea
A plate of noodle
A bowl of soup
Teaching granny how to move ~~~

Remaining is meditating
and
Quantum of red bricks, very long.

Impatience car honks,
Reflecting helmets,
I just recognized
Cars have different faces!

A spooky historical place
Yes,
Many souls have been locked inside.
Let them be . . .
I won't bother about it.

While I was having a nice time
alone,
Mom
Dad
You
I miss them . . .
You
Dad
Mom
I miss them a lot . . .
Mom
Dad
You
~~~


BS
16 August 2010
Bus Station, Mandalay 

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The God of Small Things


Rating:★★★★★
Category:Books
Genre: Literature & Fiction
Author:Arundhati Roy
Very beautiful novel!!
I'm quite influenced by some quotes from this book these days . . .

" . . . And the air was full of Thoughts and Things to Say. But at times like these, only the Small Things are ever said. Big Things lurk unsaid inside. . . "
This is the sentence that keep looping in my mind. I got (may be I thought I got) opportunities to say "Big Things", but just said only "Small Things". Opportunity just flew away . . . I just keep moving (may be pretending to keep moving) with screaming words that I dare not say . . . so sad ~~~

Well, help yourself 'cos it's truly a great story. Just like it was written in the book;
"The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably. They don't deceive you with thrills and trick endings. They don't surprise you with the unforeseen. They are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover's skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don't. In the way that although you know one day you will die, you live as though you won't. In the Great Stories you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, who doesn't. And yet you want to know again."