Insanely sane… Surviving qualmless.

Insanely sane… Surviving qualmless.
I'm not a perfect person, But I never meant to do those things; And so I have to say before I go, That I just want myself to know. I've found out a reason for me,; To change who I used to be A reason to start over new, and the reason is you. I've found a reason to show, A side of me you didn't know; A reason for all that I do, Before I let you go...

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

A Story to the end.


To you,


I created you in the dead of night

When the rain tapped hard on the sill

And the winds creaked the old hinges.

From an ominous birth

You brought me peace,

As I had tossed and turned;

Unable to relieve myself of nightmares.


But I have had enough of you now.

You may term it as betrayal; as,

After having shared endless nights together

I seem to be no longer interested in you.

But I fought, to make you better, and the best

Withstanding many criticisms and comparisons

‘Selling’ myself to you as I vent out depressions.


But, the end had to arrive someday,

And it has now, maybe

This is your end, the end

My blog.


This is my last post here. I may delete my beloved Blog, or it may be here if I can’t gather enough strength to do so, but this is my last post here. I have spent many wonderful moments here, and I had loved the space to the extent, that I felt I was leaving someone behind when I last went out of station. But some reasons, valid to me, have left me with doubts about my reason to blog. My last post had triggered people to think that I was “selling” [precisely the term used] myself, my stories in order to gain sympathy and I was being too individualistic and thinking only about myself, leading me to ponder over my intentions. If venting out my frustrations can be termed thus, then maybe my other posts were so too, as I had parts of only me shattered all over here. Reading your comments on my last post I had really wondered about how friends could really make a difference and I was really cheerful, but this sudden respected opinion has left me in fits of doubt and depression, triggering me to take this decision. I wondered if this was the ultimate thing that people has construed about me all through these days. I am really very sad to leave my friends out here, with whom I have really been very close over the last few months, but I am really very sorry, I can’t go on like this. I don’t know if I will ever be back here, but I have indeed lost my initial attachment here.


So, everybody out here Have a very happy and safe Puja and enjoy. Bbye.



Please do read and comment on my efforts if you find this post popping up anywhere near you :P

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Nothing at all!


Nothing comes to me when I sit silently staring at the blank word document in front of me. But throughout the day thoughts keep passing in and out intermittently, as I sit quietly, head bowed to the book on which I cannot concentrate, yet to which I cling with uncanny irrelativeness, sensing a personal attachment to the death of the schizophrenic father when his son thinks, how he had conveyed father’s death to his mother as well as on her father’s death a number of years back, but that nobody had conveyed his fathers death to him, the irony stings as I reconsider similar situations, maybe that is the reason why I cling to it. It is in a similar way that I seem to cling to my gloominess now-a-days. I have stopped interacting with most of my friends, even though I pine to speak to them always, but now even they seem to refute my advances. The world rolls round and life goes on, but I seem to gradually detach myself as a cello tape gradually rolls away from the roll. The strangeness of these facts as mine own seemed to sting me in the initial days. But I have accepted them now, as human beings are submissive to the ways imposed on them.

Nothing seems to occur to me, as I am hardly moved by anything now, though I feel my every day encounters with reality effects me much more these days than they did in the past. I write for hour’s everyday, but I uncannily delete every word before I go to sleep, or save them up routinely in the archives to which I provide no one access, but I constantly seem to fall short of things to post, this seems to be the reason why I post so less these days. My initial attachment with blogging has also slackened and is gathering dust now-a-days. I spend less time in this and read fewer posts even! I even contemplated deleting my blog. A few old relationships are turning over a new leaf over the last few days, whereas people on whom I relied the most seem to be constantly moving away. I am not liking the situation, but I am not being able to do anything either.

I just could not find anything to write about, so just decided to put into unforgiving words my present status. Still, some things are better dealt with silently rather than trying to communicate it and in the process making it more incomprehensible. This strange passiveness is frightening me sometimes, but I feel strangely at peace with it sometimes too!

Thank you if you had the patience to read through the crap atleast!


Please do read and comment on my efforts if you find this post popping up anywhere near you :P