cheenuray

Happy Valentine Day To You Maachee

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 03:16:00 +0000

She used to tell me… “Lucky is that man who shall be the first love to his girl…Luckiest is the girl who shall remain last love to a man”… during those days that I was unable to perceive that the dendritic fissures started growing. I was unable to see the winds of premonition during those days as I was blissful in my own reverie.

To me the real world faded around with its million problems and billion contradictions. It truly is a salvation one realizes while they are alive… I mean... to be in love with someone and care nothing for anything anymore.

And events that rake up the most precious emotion called love by means of mass frenzy or a commercially motivated makes me smile today. I was stupid enough to scream in joy to her over the phone “Happy Val day to you my love…” and today I wonder if this reminiscence forced is healthy enough to keep me untainted by pain of losing her.

But then again... I tell myself I did not lose her. I will never lose the faith I built around my fragile emotion towards her that seem to have been buried under time and space. It was like a most exalted ancient civilization wiped out without a trace leaving relics that become unfathomable to for the present to comprehend.

If one laughs at my comparison of my love to an exalted civilization… my answer to them is that my love is my world. I started the application of philosophical culminations of all wisdoms available in the world to end in this very beautiful period of my life.

Now today I wonder if I were to worship love or the person who gave love to me. Ironically I remember a school poem I studied when I was a kid. The synapsis of that says… if you suddenly discover God and teacher standing before you, whom would you offer your obeisance first. And it says obviously the teacher first because… teacher is the one who educated me who God is…

This feeling today makes remember only her… when I think of love or…loving someone else. It’s not really a conflict for me to be sane and move on… or be ideal to go deep in to folds of my own reclusive world. Because I discovered love through her with my heart, head, soul and body. My friends taunt me saying that I stagnated my emotional growth looking at a mirage that’s not even to be seen anywhere around.

I silently acknowledge their words. After all they too love me and… they did not leave me. Not that I am obligated to them for they are following a faith called friendship. But they are the starts sparkling always on a dark night whether the moon comes or not.

I wipe my tears and go back in time a little deeper. Towards that time period where she was not in my world… The world when I was a little kid. I remember huddled before kitchen stove radiating warmth with fire wood driven flames and with my siblings. Mom used to make delicious things that look pale before the artistic presentations of celebrity Chefs. But I die to feel that taste in my mouth and would kill for the same again.

Sad that Mom is no more in her vigor to get up and make things for me that I love today and hated most when I was a kid. My siblings no more nearby to fight with me who must get the first pan cake… My Dad’s fingers no more dexterous enough to slice onion slivers to the thinness of transparency while I used to gape at his skill. Few days ago when I visited Mom Dad for a few hours, I just asked them to take rest while I went out and ate dinner at a hotel like any other unfortunate soul who buys his food because he has only money and no home.

If childhood is a cauldron of uncertainty and confusion within the womb of safety of family… her love to me was the fortress inside which I used to run amok in laughter and joy… often scrapping my elbows and knees. I sometimes used to hurt her either my pigheadedness or with my own inability to cope with stress.

When I look at all this and look back… I remember today with tears in my eyes… that I used to hurt my Mom too… with words so searing that I used to vomit out of my mouth. My only sadistic pleasure that I was not aware of is that I mortally wounded her in to submission while she was trying to make me see what is right for me by means of her anger…

Please forgive me My Mom… Please forgive me My Maachee…

Hearts just hover around those whom we love. Some hearts pump blood to feed and nurture when we are in their wombs. Some other hearts… pump blood to keep us alive… to smile or weep in silence when we remember our loved ones…

But in stupid defiance I try a lot to collect myself. Take a deep breath and go back to hunt my pound of flesh to survive in this world. For sustenance and for a glimmering hope that someday she might remember me out of pity... if not love… I shall not have the courage to look in to her eyes perhaps her eyes would hold someone else so dear to her by then. I would only try to look at her for a few fleeting moments to see…. If any final traces of the girl I love…left within her soul.

I may ask her sheepishly how well she is doing in her life and if her real life love gave her the beautiful gifts called children. I would tell her that I am fine and doing comfortable. Comfortable in my loneliness and refusal to bloom again while the petals of my dreams force closed… Happy in my sense of serenity that is nostalgia induced…

My Val day wishes to her shall not go even near her memories that she is trying to forget… or forgotten already… but if the human culture, society, development, history, capitalism gives me another opportunity to tell her how much I love her… albeit from so far away… why not???

I love you so dearly Maachee… I miss you every moment of my left over life…

Happy Val Day to you… My one and only love…

Hum Na Honge Juda

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 03:14:00 +0000

Always

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 09:35:00 +0000

It’s not always the fingertip

That writes name on sands

It’s not always the chisel’s edge

That carves love out of rocks

It’s not always the tears

That streak dreams on cheeks

It’s not always the screams

That sears blisters on my soul

It’s always your silence

That kills me cell by cell

Its walkways your hatred

That tolls my death bells

It’s always your scorn

That makes me lose my senses

It’s always your absence

That makes me numb and dense

piya ke rang rang deni.DAT

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 09:28:00 +0000

Percolate

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 06:30:00 +0000

The dreams that keep going

Needs an eternal sleep

My love for you that’s flowing

Wants it to go down deeper

A.R Rahman - Hasbi Rabbi JalAllah - [HD]

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 06:25:00 +0000

Consecrated Heart

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 07:50:00 +0000

Let love engulf me in flames

Purify my soul...glorify my pain

Let not earth be dug with a grave

Pain feels brave… yet so naïve

Hosanna (Ek Deewana Tha, Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa)

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 07:48:00 +0000

Lost

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 06:24:00 +0000

I told her I care for her… she cared not

I gave her tears and blood… she wanted none

I stepped aside to make way… she walked past

Hopes smirked… life laughed… I was lost

Chanda Re (The Moon Song) - Hamsika Iyer

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 06:21:00 +0000

Sacrifice

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 12:01:00 +0000

A dew drop stays to cool

To keep flower fresh... and slide by

A butterfly hovers undecided

To relish nectar... and fly by

Gijigadu song -- Rajanna

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 11:58:00 +0000

Cure

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 05:52:00 +0000

Smearing smiles on wounds of love

Thinking that cure always works now

Feeding tears to crevices of heart

May moist life to make my ego bow

Silence tries covering the magma tiding

Screams and songs erupt and ebbing

Image hers ripples eyes that weep

Inklings of memoires I’ll always keep

"Aur Ho Full Song Rockstar" | Ranbir Kapoor | Nargis Fakhri

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 05:49:00 +0000

Pain’s Melody

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 13:17:00 +0000

Heart’s rose offered in full bloom

Petals torn and heart broken in doom

Heart’s fragments scattered in bloody mess

Petals ripped smiled at your love’s bliss

《许诺》 Promise - Raymond Lam (林峰) & Eva Huang (黄圣依) (with English Sub)

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 13:14:00 +0000

Happy New Year

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 07:02:00 +0000

What do I wish for New Year?

A fun filled future with no tears

Let there be fear always near

To value your love most dear

Cheena wishes you a happiest new year to you… My Maachee…

Abba - Happy New Year

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 07:00:00 +0000

Sleep

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 12:19:00 +0000

Mumbling grunts

Listen to stories

Curl tight in lap

Of a lovers glory

Wish night freezes

Feel not breezes

Here comes death

In caressing whispers

Transformers-Dark of the Moon Soundtrack Score- 7. Battle

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 12:16:00 +0000

Silent Movement

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 05:46:00 +0000

Melodies in desert

Moved souls meandering

Snakes slithered lucent

Scorpions crawled silent

Def Leppard - Desert Song

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 05:44:00 +0000

My Pleasure

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 08:21:00 +0000

In her killer looks she looked so vulnerable

In her cruel thoughts she acted so intangible

I loved her nonetheless in ironic fright

Its pleasure to be bled in seeking her heart

The Sum of all Fears

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 08:17:00 +0000

Promise

noreply@blogger.com (cheenuray) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 10:40:00 +0000

You will find me there…

Right beside my love’s grave

If you need me ever

Be it stupid or naive