a literary expedition

when i read those random lines jotted down behind my notebook i wonder what they meant. they seem so so familiar and close to me. i try to remember what i felt then and nothing comes to my mind. i feel those are times when my soul and everything else in this world merge into the illusion of oneness.  d uring those moments every word you write carries the aroma of your soul, it defines everything you feel then. sometime later going back to the same words, they look like words in a dictionary. so full of literary meaning. the aroma is gone, the hue is invisible and the essence of you is lost.  now i feel its all about the moment when you can reside in that bubble of oneness.  the words that escape from you are naive and pregnant. words gone through manipulation is like second hand truth. its the same with our daily life too.  a person can never be what his or her sub-conscious is. where they have their roots, where people know them, where they have reputat...

"if you are going by the flow, you are probably a dead fish" (07/04/2015)                        "if you have the right spirit to deal with a wrong    done to you, whatever it was, you deserve it" (07/04/2015)                   "all colours are shades of white"  (11/05/2015) "backpack to suitcase is a transformation. a boring one."  (31/07/2015) "I feel its a necessary to surprise ourselves by doing things that we thought we ll never be able to. but shouldn't be long ones like post -graduation."  (09/08/2015) "Its good to know the roots before eating the fruits"  (14/08/2015) "if you are at the second page of Google you are officially desperate."     (28/08/2015) "shayeri zuban mai jeeta hai kalam aur kakas uski khabar hai"   (04/09/2015)               ...

...for those men out there, standing, fallen or forgotten... Victory is not the goal Still fight has become the core Of days and of nights No  armour  but knights Not that i am brave But scared of the grave Alert as a little bird Cant trust anybody’s word Scared to drop the guard Scared to leave the sword Even the dogs bark, shadow Nights, mirror or lanes narrow Living engulfed in fear Wounds and Loss of peer Without friend, without aid Sharpening the blade For an enemy never known Hallucinations and sickness born Killing my men more than the war Blood, till where sight...

todayS took everything from me, tomorrowS expected too much from me. yesterdayS refused to come back to me i winded my time machine i skipped to someday ... but someday is a dangerous day it never came. everything kept for someday too never came.

dear little red riding hood,  (i) fear makes the wolf look bigger. calm down, have a better look  he ain't that scary right..? now take a step forward that's it.. i believe you have realized  he the same size of Browny keep that strawberries aside it makes you look silly bend down, pick that big stone there rise & you ll find him running for his life. let grandma knit her sock  or make soup in peace.  (i) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Red_Riding_Hood#mediaviewer/File:Carl_Larsson_-_Little_Red_Riding_Hood_1881.jpg

words from somewhere deep within blastula of my illusion and verity born to my journal and fountain pen which slipped in wind and fell in rhythm

the pain in my chest  dissolved into my blood i wished to slit open my veins and pour it out the darkness in my mind the numbness of my knees my eyes pleaded more from the fading vision my lungs longed for air which was fleeing the room my cold body froze even my thoughts somewhere the loud hollowness rose filling the air around me the pain popped in droplets of sweat from every pore my beats raced my breaths till they cried like a hyena like the cork which popped like the foam which spilled like the plates that shattered like the glasses those slipped a moment rose like a big wave my body surfed it but later diminished into a slip like on a slimy floor a slip, a small quick flip like the one before falling asleep (my imagination of those last moments)