The year that has been.....

Tip the hat to the year that bids us farewell,

In all the contrasting experiences we have had during it

here's December, the smallest Russian doll amongst the 12 of successively decreasing sizes

The great teacher time has taught us many different lessons this year

Time has no plan on retirement from this occupation

And for all years to come we shall remain its students

An encore we'd shout

had the year been exceptionally favorable

As we put our hands together,

to the end of a spectacular year

We wave our hands to the departing year

This bitter-sweet goodbye

But we say thanks time and again for the parting gift

A suitcase full of great memories.

On the eve, as we see off the departing year and welcome the coming year with open arms

A word of advice

ill feelings are nothing but excess baggage for the trip ahead,

Cherish the souvenirs of your past travels

And make room for the souvenirs of the journey ahead

The Clock ticks on....

The Big Ben in London, the Rajabai Tower in Mumbai, the Spasskaya Tower in Moscow, Torre dell'Orologio in Venice, the Zytglogge in Switzerland, these are some of the many clock towers chiming away across the globe at present. In this very second, there are millions of clocks and watches ticking away all over the world, even as you are reading this there is probably one ticking away right next to you. Most of the time we are deaf to the ticking but very often we rest our eyes upon its face. Hoping that time would go slower, to relish a beautiful moment or maybe to finish whats undone. Sometimes we beg for it to move faster, to get through something as fast as possible, or maybe so that an awaited moment may reach the present faster. It ticks on, unaffected by the wishes of others, it doesn't compromise itself to receive acceptance or praise of others. One minute continues to be sixty-seconds whether we like it or not. Sometimes its ticks are drowned in the background but when silence is cast its voice is more profound and loud. Maybe it was trying to say something all along. It ticks on in monotony, as though its parroting something. It speaks in a language we humans are yet to master - the language of ticks. Most of the time its 'words' are lost in translation. Maybe its ticks are serving as a reminder of scheduled obligations or alerting people about a waste of time. It continues to tick away, maybe synchronizing to the rhythm of a heart beat or breathing. The needles continue to make their rounds, the incessant ticking accompanying it like a companion on a long journey. Maybe its beckoning for people to hear what it has to say, a message of importance. For how long have we considered it to be a mute, incapable of conveying feelings? And why this false assumption when its screams to be heard every second as it ticks on? Maybe each tick translates into "now". NOW. NOW. NOW. NOW. "Say what needs to be said NOW, do what needs to be done NOW, find happiness NOW". We often participate in indefinite waits and as we do the clock ticks away. How often are we waiting and wasting time? Waiting for the right moment, for inspiration, for someone like-minded to encourage or support us and the list goes on. Act now, while the ticking exists.The clock's ticks are numbered, one day it would stop, it maybe repaired or it may not be repaired. But can the same be said for ourselves? Perhaps thats what the great time keepers are trying to tell us. And the clock ticks on…

Here is where it begins

Today marks the beginning of my quest
My quest to find the realm of eternal happiness
The only route I know is through my dreams
Here is where it begins

These dreams, I have rooted them into the very depths of my heart
I cast an impenetrable shield over it, made of belief in its strongest degrees
Imprinted in my mind are the pictures of accomplishment
Synchronizing my actions to the beat of dream in my heart
Here is where it begins

Drunk with the wine of victory
So I shall be on the day of accomplishment
But will the realm of eternal happiness be waiting for me at the finish line?
Or will the glint of the trophy be all that awaits me?

The realm of eternal happiness, it was always in me,
Dreams and worries eclipsed its presence
Acknowledgement has illuminated it,
It lies in the birth place of gratitude,
Pitched right next to my dream, the realm of eternal happiness
lies in my heart......

My quest isn't over yet,
The realization of my dreams shall amplify the power
of the realm of eternal happiness within me,

The direction I should I go in, the path I must take for this

Either, I do not know

Let this belief be my compass and this hope be my light
Here is where it begins......

Youth

The rolling trophy, the title, the baton called 'Youth'

It's possession dependent

not on when the hair greys or the youthful glow fades

but on when the recesses of the mind no longer inhabit ideas

and the heart no longer inhabits passion.

Its our perspective that is broad enough to erase the mistakes of the past and start anew

We are the slayers of conventional beliefs

who build upon the sweat and toil of our predecessors.

Grateful we are for their sacrifices are the framework of our doings

Brimming with energy, excited by the possibilities of tomorrow

inspired by all those who seized opportunities, fueled by a zest for life,

that's how we live.

We hold no prophecy

But with certainty the day for our successors shall arrive

At its arrival some of our names and faces shall reside in the pages of history

some shall be washed away by the sands of time.

But our work shall be immortal,

and will be the foundation stones of that of our successors

In this relay race defined as the productive segment of life - 'Youth',

we can only hope to do our best

before we pass the baton.

The Solitary Voyage

It was a Tuesday afternoon and I was on a solitary voyage. After battling the ferocious winds and baring the sweltering heat I found myself feeling as though I was in paradise when I entered the well air conditioned metro station. I made my way to the platform and as I awaited the train's arrival I stared at the map of the metro routes, making sure I was on the right platform. Looking back at the experience in a metaphorical sense, I believe life is no different from this everyday experience.

In life there are rails, trains and destinations but there is no map. The rails take the form of options/opportunities, they branch out endlessly far more than we can imagine but they all have a destination. We take the train that we hope takes us to our desired destination, our decisions are fueled by faith and are hearts are pumping passion. The trains are the actions we take. In life there is no map, guided by the insatiable thirst to reach our destination we choose our train.

When I am seated in the train a lot of thoughts cross my mind but the music that I am usually listening to, drowns out these insignificant voices. But one particular thought that as made its way in this tapestry of random thoughts once or twice and broken into my concentration would be the fear of being on the wrong train. Then it immediately strikes me that even if that were the case, all it would take to get back in the right direction is a simple switch of trains.

In life many of us have experienced it, we taken the wrong train or en-route our journey we had a sudden change of mind. The aftermath of such a situation isn't pleasant but once you get back on your feet, things are usually fine. You get back on your feet by switching trains, exploring other opportunities, trying once again so as to get there. Even when it seems there isn't another way to get back on track, if you take a moment aside and contemplate patiently you'll realize a train heading to your destination is scheduled to arrive at the station you are waiting at.

After many a solitary voyage, this frequent voyage has become clockwork. After synchronizing my schedule with that of the well timed trains I have a perfectly timed out itinerary. I know exactly when I have to leave and when the train would arrive and how long it would take me to reach my destination. But if I am displaced from my timed out journey, the usually calm mood is replaced by a feeling of impatience and anxiety.

In contradiction, we can't always be sure when the train we wish to board in life will arrive. In fact most of the time we are not sure. Sometimes we miss the train we wished to take and are filled with despair. But we fail to realize that there always is another train headed towards that destination soon to arrive or there may even be a train following a simpler route to our destination soon to arrive. And that is the birthplace of the statement "there's always a next time."

Many board the train with me, many enter along the journey, many leave along the journey. They are all people I haven't met before and probably never will meet again. We share no words but at minimum we do share a fragment of our journey together. There are many who get off at the same station as me, but once those doors slide open and I welcome the heat, we are always headed in different directions.

The train you wish to take may have many passengers, but not all of them are headed for the same destination as you are. Feeling intimidated by them would be futile and pointless because ultimately even if they get off at the same station as you they are most likely to head towards a different destination. No matter how similar your aim or goal in life seems to another person's a few important differences definitely exist. So your so called competitors or rivals are just comrades with mutual interests. For this reason drowning yourself in jealousy or unhealthy competitiveness will get you no where.

I wrote this because I really enjoy my solitary voyage and I found something meaningful that I could relate it to. So that leaves me with the last and most important point:-

Buckle up and enjoy the journey. =D

The Power of Words

What is poetry

But a stringing of words

that puts on a different mask with every reader

What is a paragraph

But a stringing of sentences

that sometimes is the window into the writer's thoughts

What is a story

But a whole new world,

created by the words of the writer and perceived by the imagination of the reader

What are words spoken from the mouth

Soulless without the emotions of the heart

Some forms of word are the possessors of a one way ticket

Once departed they never return

Words, most target the mind

on the command of the commander

but when the words rebel and take a detour to the heart

The commander is only left with the options of rejoicing or regretting

Word in all their immortal forms

whether poems, paragraphs, stories or speech

Soulless or brimming with life

are the catalyst of thoughts

Words can make the strong stronger

and also the weak weaker

The commander can only control the words

not the perception of them

not the comprehension of them

not the reactions to them

But the commander's power adequate

for brighting faces and lightening hearts

and also avoiding the wrong words from transforming into swords

that pierce deep into susceptible hearts.

So does the commander plan to be reckless and send sword transformers without remorse but an after taste of regret

or be wise with his selection of troops and their dispatching ?

We are all commanders but the question is, are we all good commanders?

Time Trotter

For the first time, I have tried out poetry! Heres a poem I wrote. Do leave a comment ,I would love to know what you think.

The mind is nothing but a wanderer in time

Arriving at destinations past, present and future.

The past, my mind has been there several times

It's just as it had been,

just as I had seen.

Comprehension and the great healer time illuminates

the streets that were once dark.

The streets of joy remain bright.

Their paths familiar and easy to follow.

My desire is to stay yet my departure is inevitable.

The present, this is what I explore for the first time.

The roads wind and intertwine, signage of what to expect ahead is absent.

Venturing on these roads eventually leads me to the border line of the present and future.

As I look over to the future,

thick mist that lingers over the area obstructs my view.

My journey ahead isn't that daunting,

for the blueprints of the future lay in my dreams.

As I nervously step over the borderline I realise

that what I saw in the present shall re-position itself as past

and what I am yet to see shall re-position itself as present.

The blueprints of the future lay in my dreams....

No more can I call them dreams

This step will make them reality.