to "rat-race and education"
I was standin' at the start line when I heard the shot gun
I hear many hearts beatin'; many seeming to be ready to run
But I know I forgot to run, my muscles dont even flex
And I wonder if the teacher is to be blamed for the jinx.
Jade.
Walkin' thru a dark alley,
I stumble upon a strand of glowin' thread;
And I stand for hours wonderin'
How mighty the strand of thread cud be
That it almost hurt me by tripping me over!
Jade.
It was a night with many neon yellow moons hanging low and grey sparkling clouds drifting across the azure blue sky like crude oil seeping through a water body. Unusually happy for some reasons four shadows dine and booze and on their way back home start singing: (lines that I remember)
J: My color and mood are both blue, too
M: All I was thinking was of buying a new shoe
D: As I went in search of lines, I wish'd I flew
A:What do I say; I'm still blue!
J: I saw a man walking with a pet lizard
M: And I wondered if there can be a weird'r wizard
D:
A:
J: I worship my satan in my dreams
M: Things are not as they seem
D: I wanted to join a football team
A: You can always join a team! ( he actually said that in reply to what DEG said)
J: I switch on a fan and the air moves in a twirl
M: Oh my God! I just lost my last pearl
D: How I wish I had a girl!
A:
J: And these nights I get high watching the red spot ( the tip of cigarette was in my mind)
M: I didnot even need a shot
D: It stopped raining; these nights are so hot
A: one mallu is ok, but three is a lot!
--J:Jade, M:Mallu, D:Deepak, A:Amit.
By the way, this was Deepak's and Mallu's idea.
coming back...
Its been a long time since I have added anything new to this blog. And yet, I am not entirely back. Raven is on an errand and it will be sometime before she sings new tales to me and I pen them down here. Meanwhile, I thought I would put up some interesting articles (that would obviously stand different from Raven's magical tales!).
For a start I shall merge the other blog I moderate where I had posted some articles that are not entirely mine.
In my garden bloom Roses,
That only wait and wilt.
All of 'em in broken poses,
Waiting to be cut by a celt.
On the earth lie those petals,
Thousands of them trodden (upon).
Beauty, now in fetters,
Existence, now a burden.
But, sure would one day,
That sun shine this way;
Poses corrected
And life resurrected.
Yea, sure would come,
One adorable breeze,
To carry this fragrance home.
This waitin’ and wiltin’ to cease.
