Sunday, October 23, 2011

She lay in the silvery shadows with courage rising and made the plans that a sixteen-year-old makes when life has been so pleasant that defeat is an impossibility and a pretty dress and a clear complexion are weapons to vanquish fate.

[Gone with the wind]
"That is the case with us all, papa. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other."
- Emma Woodhouse

[Emma]

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Bhor

They said,
Pick out the one with the largest heart,
The one who’s the most important part
of your life, who can take your breath away
every time you steal a glance his way.
Who can make you laugh, who will let you cry,
who can cheer you up with his twinkling eyes.

Indeed a gem, he who walks with you
through good and bad, who loves you through
the ups and downs of life, no matter
how often you may encounter the latter.
Pick an honest soul, pick a noble friend,
pick the one you’ll be with till the end.

They said,
Pick out the one who’s the sun to your bhor.
And I, picked you.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

I have finally understood something Shiva had told me once. The opposite of love is not hate. Hate is just love gone bad. The actual opposite of love is apathy."
-Veer Bhadra

[The Secret of the Nagas]

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Nemesis

By Shweta Das, one of my awesomest friends.  This is the picture that inspired the poem. :)
From the depths of the waters divine, she rose; all the pain from my bosom she took unto her own
Wind flirting with her veil, and in its mischief, her form be revealed
The eyes, pools of deep meaning; smile, a captive song
A picture is worth a thousand words, an artist’s paradise was she
Golden tresses a ballad to he who races even her heart, a right god must be
Blue eyes like drops off her abode, windows into a soul purer than pure; blood rushing to her cheeks as does spring into the resting buds
Delicate fingers pirouetting into her hair; a shy smile flickering on her lips, deceptive, inviting unto a sweet end

For behind that holding gaze, danced a fire; a fire to do the done, a fire to give the given; a burning desire to make it known, he was all but forgiven
What thought he, to play with her heart, to woo her and leave her to bleed? What thought he to take away from her the pleasants and unpleasants of life?
He had not the right to see no more, to smell, to taste, hear no more, he had not the right to breathe another
Her life, he had taken; with life, would he pay
And so she turned towards me, piercing glare in place; and all at once, the pain gushed back, the lights went out, dark thoughts engulfed my mind
The voice of Ate resounded, the war horn was blown
A thunder, bright white, and a smashing of spirits; my form, though mine to touch and feel, was mine to guide no more
I moved forth, purposefully, yet with no control; a maniacal smile, a gleam in the eye, yet mind protesting
He saw me, greeted me, a brotherhood shared
But advancing, even as my core cried out, mine ruthless hand drove the gleaming silver into his heart
His eyes, at once vacant mirrors; outstretched greeting suspended, now and for ever
And somewhere from within, a mad laughter, unthinking joy; then the same thunder, bright flash, and darkness forevermore