He..

A lone desolate figure sulks within the confinement of his prison; darkness engulfs him as his desperation ensues havoc on his morbid soul. Lost in thoughts, he ponders..

He is guilty of clutching onto the past, broken promises and missed opportunities.
He is culpable of caring excessively for matters deemed trivial by others.
He is discontent with his incessant cultural strife, a social recluse by choice.
He is carrier of a meager load and confuses it to be a heavy burden.

He needs therapy. What is therapy?
It’s a sign that social alienation has succeeded in creating alarming despondency.
It’s a sign that an entity audible to our tribulations is required.
It’s a sign that we have messed up our purpose in life so bad that we need others to sort it.

He needs courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new.
He needs courage to be able to sacrifice what we he is for what he could become.
He needs courage to go against the dominant thinking of his culture.
He needs courage to go from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.

A SHADY friend for torrid days
Is easier to find
Than one of higher temperature
For frigid hour of mind.

He closes his eyes and murmurs to his soul..

"For all I ought to have thought, and have not thought; all I ought to have said, and have not said; all I ought to have done, and have not done; I pray to thee God for forgiveness."

Dark..

Dark is the poison; flow morbidly through my veins..

Dark is the rage; shred mercilessly the hypocrisy that surrounds...

Dark is the hour; approach silently with anomalous intent..

Dark is the depth; fall fiercely to damnation that awaits..

Dark is the heart and its abode..

Dark is the death and its blissful solitude..

Lost..

I share a love-hate relationship with my work. An imprisoned bird yearns for freedom to feel the wind rustle its feathers. Honestly, I adore what I do. I find the experience to be enriching and exceedingly stimulating. Sadly, there are days when I abhor the whole activity.

Is it imperative to attach purpose to our line of work?

Isn’t sustenance purpose enough?

How do you liberate your senses to think beyond the superficial scope of your work?

I have never really grasped the idea of self-growth and how it’s associated with our careers. People advice me about my naiveness and warn me against the impending consequences.My fault lies in my negativity to their concerns.

It has been a horrid day at work.Such days have considerably increased recently.

I have just scribbled this..

"Deep within the conscience of my soul lies awake an immortal parody, disconsolate of my surroundings but amorous to my desires. It breathes my will and exhales my life. It shatters my solitude and seeks perfection from my morbid existence. Granting solace, comfort and respite from external prejudice. Victoriously rising to my swansong of forgotten bliss."

I need help… I hope I can make it through the week and not fall victim to the dark void.

Keep me in your prayers.

Seeking Closure..

Standing Alone is a difficult task. It is a frightening experience which can alter our absolute outlook of life. It is un-relinquishing struggle that consumes our fortitude to succeed. I have stood within the abyss of my soul; Panicking as I face my worst fears, often contemplating measures which would exhibit my inner frailty rather than valor.

Suicide is an act of cowardice. Twice the thought came to my mind. First, when I betrayed a friend of course remorse inevitably followed but the damage was done and a True friend lost. Second, when a friend betrayed me and I eternally lingered for an apology which never came instead I was greeted with additional misery and ridicule of mislaid trust.

How low do we have to sink to realize that no one will assist our emergence?

Who do you turn to when you are disregarded by those you deemed closest?

How do you pacify the turbulence within your essence, a turmoil that has no earthly purpose but is simply an incarnation of your insane thoughts?

My Mantra: Patience, Silence, Tranquility & Contentment.

Patience in escalating commotion breeds a comprehensive state of Silence.
Silence leads to Tranquility.
Tranquility persists to reward True Contentment.

Life is not as complicated as how we perceive it. The trick is to realize this soon.

From the heart..

I wish i could have been there to witness this joyous occasion...

To My Best Friend on his wedding...

Mustafa & Fatima,

Best Wishes
on Your Marriage

Though time can change
so many things,
May this one thing be true...

That time
will never change the love
Between the both of you.

Happiness Always
in Your New Life Together

In the fairy tale of life...
...may this be
your happily-ever-after.

Congratulations once again
on Your Marriage

I Recommend : Dear Frankie

Frankie is a nine-year-old boy (Jack McElhone) with one great joy in his life: corresponding with his father, a naval petty officer. The letters have defined and improved his life. Deaf, he barely speaks. In his letters he reads in a gentle, confident Scottish brogue. He devours books on marine life; a large map of his father’s travels dominates his bedroom; and he declines fish with his chips. Though he’s sick of moving, this town is different. It’s by the sea.

In truth, Frankie’s father is in Scotland, gravely ill. His life at sea was concocted by Frankie’s mother, Lizzie (Emily Mortimer), to keep the real, landlocked father out of their lives. We don’t know much about Frankie’s dad, only that he caused the boy’s deafness and is so despicable that Lizzie, her mother, and Frankie raise stakes frequently to maintain their distance.

Lizzie’s web of lies is meant to comfort her, as well as Frankie. “It’s the only time I get to hear his voice,” Lizzie says of Frankie’s letters, every one of which she answers. The facade looks certain to crumble when Frankie’s father’ s alleged ship -- Lizzie chose the boat from a stamp -- actually makes a visit to their town. Desperate to keep the dream alive for her son, Lizzie finds a rugged stranger (Gerard Butler) to play the role of Frankie’s dad for a weekend.

It's hard to imagine this story actually happening, but it's also hard to imagine it being told with such sensitivity and lack of mawkishness, thanks to director Shona Auberbach. Yes, she does lard the soundtrack with too many marginal pop songs, but she gets tender, sometimes surprising performances out of her leads. The pretty Mortimer and the rough, yet tender Butler navigate their character's shaky waters. Questions of why this stranger would accept such an odd job is answered not by the eventual revealing of his identity, but by Butler 's dewy charm, as if he enjoys having a son, even for one day. Mortimer gives us a mother who is doing the best she can under less-than-ideal parental circumstances, so not only don't we blame her, we sympathize with what she's awkwardly trying to achieve. Even when the real father briefly enters the picture, at an extremely schematic moment, we still buy it. In fact, despite the overly plotted nature of the entire story, we buy all of it. Because it's told with intelligence, humor and tenderness. Dear Frankie , a winner at the Los Angeles Film Festival, avoids big, Hollywood emotions and tells its small tale in a small way. It's a poignant film well worth a look.

Rating : 8/10
Running Time: 100 mins
Trailer Link: Dear Frankie

A Gem by Emily..

I MEASURE every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled—
Some thousands—on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.

The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies,—
Death is but one and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.

There ’s grief of want, and grief of cold,—
A sort they call “despair”;
There ’s banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross,
Of those that stand alone,
Still fascinated to presume
That some are like my own.

It's..

It’s been a week of bitter farewells..
My Closest & Dearest Friend is getting married this week. It was idyllic to drive about town distributing his wedding invitations & little boxes of sweets. The night before his departure we were having “Shisha” at our favorite spot catching up on old times. We both know things would be different once he returns. His social prerogatives, responsibilities and general perception about life would change. Superficially we would still be friends but a sudden emergence of an invisible divide would drift us apart.

“Get Married Dude!!” was his last friendly advice.

It’s been a week of inhibited sorrow..
The higher you climb the corporate ladder, the more your family life suffers. Success comes at a price and somewhere along the strenuous journey you have to decide where your allegiance lies. “The Devil wears Prada” portrays this debacle brilliantly. In a marriage of two successful individuals the question arises as to who compromises. Relentless Pursue of our dreams can be misleading; maybe this chase might end up as a farce as we ourselves are not aware of our true happiness. Sometimes its too late when we realize what really makes us happy and complete.

A very dear, young & successful couple is seeking divorce, as both of them are not ready to jeopardize their careers for the sake of a family. Someday they will have to explain to their young daughter why they preferred to split..

It’s been a week of awakening…
I have stepped out of my cocoon and am prepared to accept the world as it materializes. There is no reason to wait around for things to reorganize themselves into a sequential pattern of your preference sometimes haphazard is beautiful. There is no explanation in lamenting over trivial grievances & minor hindrances that our faulty vision perceives as mountains.

The Rebel within..

We are what we choose. Our alternatives are arranged before us to observe scrupulously. We can either conform to our typical, monotonous style of subsistence or rebel to discover something which we appreciate.

We sense the culture we breathe in is a bane and dismissive of our ideals. The people around us fail to recognize our potential and endless possibilities perpetually stay unknown. The present state of affairs will forever exist and that perfect day which we desperately seek will never arrive. It is never easy to rebel. Numerous circumstances cloud our judgment and avert us from doing so. It is very easy to curse fate and shamelessly drop our heads.

Where do we stand?

Do we conceal our flaws and inability to act by blaming Fate? Are you not the Master of your Fate?

Why don't we learn to play with the cards we are dealt?

Why do we squander time in condemning the dealer rather than utilizing it for our own benefits?

Sulking is for the faint hearted. We have two distinct choices, either liberate the Rebel within or shut up and obey the rules of our pathetic existence.

Zing-er Supreme Macho Man

Slamming doors is a sign of immaturity; I desperately make an effort to corrent myself. I pledge I will never consent to anger conquering me but I always waver. Universal Truth I have discovered: If you speak when you are angry, you will probably make the best speech you will forever regret.

Do you ever feel you become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora's box of all the secret hateful parts -- your arrogance, your spite, your condescension -- has sprung open. Someone provokes you, and instead of just smiling and moving on, you zing them. Hello, it's Mr. Nasty.

When I am angry, I either retire to solitude of the beach or put on my trainers and start jogging. I jog briskly stomping the ground, breathing heavily and accelerating. After awhile I halt to catch my breath, I clasp my knees as I bend and ponder on the recent chain of events. I am quick to forget and first to apologize, whenever I have an argument at home and I storm out I always come back with a box of ice cream. The Free ice cream treats have spoilt my sister, once I returned without any; she just stared at me as she opened the door..
“What no Ice cream?” she inquired
“ No Forgiveness for you!!” She remarked in pure Soup Nazi dialect
“Go Get some” she ordered as she shut the door on my face

My manic anger therapy jogs once resulted in a most embarrassing moment.

After about 30 minutes of sporadic & frantic running surprisingly I was jogging along side a female jogger. I was striving hard to maintain my oozing machismo but it was proving difficult to keep pace with her. We had our hellos and were conversing about the weather and how humid it was – typical jogger chitchat.

HER: "Don’t you just love this side of the park"
ME: "Yes its beautiful" *breathing heavily*
HER:"I always come to this park as I find it very scenic"
ME:"Yes" *slowly losing energy*
HER: "Its so lovely to jog here, I hate it in the morning when its hot.. Its much better in the night"
ME: "Yes" "signs showing that I am struggling*
HER: "Yes?? Yes what? Are you alright?"
ME: "Yes Superb"
HER: "You seem to be panting, do you want me to slow down"
ME: "Its either that or you will have to carry me"

She laughed and we started walking.. a pace I was so much comfortable with :)

ME: "I have had a long day"
HER: "Of course you have"
ME: "No really it’s been tiring day and besides it’s humid too"
HER: "Of course it is"
ME: "I just wanted you to know that"
HER: "Of course you did"
ME: "Are you being sarcastic?"
HER: "Of course not"
ME: "Alright!! You are much fitter than me. It was hard for me to keep up. Now you happy!!"
HER: "Of course I am"

Mr. Macho Man Zinged Supremely :)

Tag along..

I got tagged by mnm310.. here is my confession

* Alone, or with people?

There is difference between Loneliness & solitude:

Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self.

I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. The Thoughtful soul to the solitude retires.

Isnt Man a Social Animal?

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

...love from one being to another can only be that two solitudes come nearer, recognize and protect and comfort each other. There are moments when we all need somebody with whom we can speak of our deepest concerns, and who do not fear to speak the truth to us. It seems to me that trying to live alone is like milking a bear to get cream for your morning coffee. It is a whole lot of trouble, and then not worth much after you get it.

* Summer, or winter?

I am bored & weary of everything summer has to offer.

I want to skate on the frozen lakes of Mystery, Alaska. Have snow fights and make snow angels :)

* Black, or white?

Black: Mysterious & elegant.

* Observe, or get along from the very first moment

Content to observe but eager to socialize..

* Clown, or Drama (Queen/King)?

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go
I strive to be the former.

* A Hummer, or A BMW convertible car

If I consider the car as a mode of transportation I don’t bother about the trade name as long as it gets me from Point A to Point B with ease & comfort. If I were to consider it a status symbol then Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano to emphasize POWER & Bentley Continental GT to underline elegance.

For the two choices I have… BMW M3 Convertible please :)

* Loyal or………

Unless you can find some sort of loyalty, you cannot find unity and peace in your active living. Oscar wilde said.. If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.. that’s loyalty J

* Favorite Material Posession....

My ring.. My wrist Kara (something like a bangle but more broad).. My Collection of Poetry..

* When I look at someone, the first thing I see is....

Their Smile.. A smile is the light in the window of your face that tells people you're at home. A smile is the universal welcome. "Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day".

* My life is....

My candle burns at both its ends;
It will not last the night;
But oh, my foes, and oh, my friends --
It gives a lovely light.

My life is just a chance to grow a soul. When I do breathe my last I hope its not the years in my life that count but the life in my years :)

Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.

Probably, the common aspect in all our lives is the realization that all the things you really want to do are either immoral, illegal or fattening ;)

I pass on the Tag baton to Widad,Sarah and any body who wants to be tagged..