Happy Diwali!

Diwali - the festival of lights is one of the most beautiful festivals in the world. For those of you who don’t know, it marks the return of Lord Rama from his 14 year exile in the forest. Neither is this post one of those knowledgeable ones, telling you why Diwali is celebrated and the history behind it; nor is it one of those where I try to extract negativity from the littlest of things, and in this context - rant about the pollution during Diwali. For a change I’ll be optimistic in my writing, as I am in thought.
Also, I've been told by quite a few people that my writing has become rather morbid and dull, lately.

Diwali is a festival of hope. The lights to me, are symbolic to having a light in your life during darkest times. The exploding colours in the dark sky give me peace (excluding the sound that is). The dazzling bursting fireworks in the sky, are symbolic to you having to burst out into pure brilliance, and prove your potential to people around you. The colourful sky during Diwali is inspirational, it narrates a life story in its own way. One way of interpreting it, is the one I just mentioned. The other – the birth of a young, to its death – the final burst of colours.
I am not one of those who bursts crackers. I sit back and enjoy the show, sitting on the terrace of my seven-floor building with a camera in my hand – trying to capture the perfect moment. The perfect moment of what would define my life, and that perfect composition that would describe what I try to convey to you, in this post.

Just as the crackers burst in the sky
in the blink of an eye,
life is too short -
go explode, make it large.

So, this Diwali, don’t be trapped in the void you create for yourself, come out to the world of optimism and show who you really are.

Happy Diwali! 

There He Hung

"Are you okay?" She asked him, as the clouds burst, bringing light drizzle to the dry hungry grounds. "I'm okay, now" he said, "It's raining now, it'll be fine." He loved the rains. They seemed to be the answer to each and every one of his problems. They gave him, sanity, and clarity. He looked up to the sky, as the soft droplets fell on his face, and trickled off to the ground, wiping away, all the tension his head, held.

He usually never lied. Both of them knew, that he wasn't going to be okay. Could there be something more crucial than his usual melancholy, which made him lie?
Apparently so.

She had told him just five minutes ago, that she liked somebody. Unfortunately his best friend liked her. His best friend, was one in a million when it came to love. Not the blessed one in a million, but one of the ill-fated in a million. He had been through a lot. He was perhaps, already broken. But isn’t everyone, in their own way?

Love's a relative term, you know? Few people fall in love with love, then there's the rest, who say love hurts.
Quoting The Lumineers from their song 'Stubborn Love', I'd say, "It's better to feel pain, than nothing at all."

He told his best friend everything. Obviously though, he couldn't tell him that she loved somebody else, that would just kill him on the inside. Perhaps he was already dead from within.

Whatever it was, he had to make sure his friend was alright.
Weeks had gone by, but they hadn't met. He decided to meet him at his little rented place, give him a surprise visit, and make up for all the fun they missed.

When he reached his place, he found the elevator under maintenance. He paced up thirteen floors, as he smiled thinking of finally meeting him. He reached his floor and bent down, panting, before he walked towards his house. Strangely, he found the door to be open. He opened the door, completely, and walked inside, and saw to his dismay - drowned in disbelief.

There he hung - his best friend, from the ceiling fan, dead.

Dead, in, and out - with the words "sorry for the love" written on his wall.

In Ruins.

With a dying hope,
left alone to mope,
over his grievances,
yet not wanting vengeance,
he walked into,
his own ruins.

When you’re in pieces and completely ruined,
and no matter whether people try to revive -
You’ll always be remembered to be in ruins,
still trying to find the way back into life,
along the paths of sleepless nights.
Until the break of darkness,
and the shattering of silence -
Lost in the road to life, you will be,
as you’re watching the sun, rise.

Hope, That Lingered

He went through,
sleepless nights.
Thinking - she just might,
say a few words.
And ask him,
how he was doing,
since, he thought she cared.
Because there was something,
that angered him, called -
Hope,
that lingered.

He went through,
each dying moment,
controlling to lament.
Thinking - she just might,
want him back,
and take him back,
since, he thought she cared.
Because there was something,
that angered him, called -
Hope,
that lingered.

The Promise (Part II)

"Wherever I go,
Wherever I will be,
I'll never leave you,
Hoping, you'll never leave me.

Separated by destiny,
We always may be,
I'll still find a way to get to you,
Hoping, you'll still be waiting for me.

Irrespective of the years that go by,
Respective of the thoughts we share,
I'll still come looking for you,
Knowing, I'll fall into that delusional snare."

The delusion that you're still here,
And your illusion that still stands by me;
All of it,
Reminds me of the connection we shared,
Reminds me of the promises we made,
Untill you left me here,
With nothing, but my tears.

When All Is Lost...

When you lose everything that you cared about, you feel worthless. You would feel unworthy of any of the world’s happiness – feeling lost, and alone. You desperately look for an opportunity to grab upon – an incident in your near future which would help you bounce back! Finn, was such a teenager hanging onto the last thread of hope.

Being a popular high-school teenager, Finn was adored by all. All his friends loved him, and felt lucky to have him around. Despite the fame, he was not one of those snobbish and rude people, who had nothing in them but criticism. However on one tragic day, he happened to lose his father in a car accident. The one whom Finn loved most, was now gone. His world had turned upside down. He was turning into an epitome of depression. One by one, all his friends left him; who would want to be around such a person? This didn't help him in any way. He needed people around, to be there for him. His void of sadness continued to grow till he was devoid of all happiness. His grades began to fall, accelerating faster than Earth’s acceleration due to gravity. Things that he enjoyed, became a burden for him. He used to sit in class carrying the world on his head. The only thing that still gave him hope was his school’s Annual Sports Day. He was a brilliant athlete, with legs stronger than a horse's and unimaginable stamina.

His mother being concerned about his behavioural changes, supported and encouraged him as he trained early mornings. With only one goal which seemed accomplishable, remaining in his life, he gave it his all. What he didn't realise was that, he was beginning to become an image of inspiration for all his fellow classmates, who too, felt lost.

The day of the race finally arrived! The first race was to be a relay. In his team he was going to be the fourth and last, to run four-hundred meters. As he walked to his mark, he was taunted by other team members. He ignored their snide remarks and stretched just before the race began. The race began with the sound of a gunshot from an air gun, and the teams were off to a great start. Finn's team was sadly lagging third, until he was handed the baton. With only the finish line in front of his eyes, he took off in a flash and ran like the wind. He ran as though his life depended on this race. He was running to prove a point to himself, that he was indeed worth it. Worth of all the happiness he once had, and worth of a victory. As these thoughts came to his mind, he crossed the finish line ending up first.

That day was his best, ever. He ended up coming first in all his races. He had never been happier. He looked up to the sky as though he acknowledged his father’s presence. Finn now knew, that come what may, hanging onto the last thread of hope was more important than anything, because they say – it’s always darkest before the dawn.

Is This Why, I Like The Dusk?

“Dusk, to his mind, was the hour of the defeated”
- H. H. Munro
~Saki (Taken from "Dusk")


Dusk is the time of day, when people devoid of happiness, come out, looking to gain something. Gain something, of the little that they actually deserve. They deserve the happiness, that’s been taken away from them, to fill the void of theirs’. They need to fill their emptiness, with belief and hope – that happiness does exist. Happiness comes and goes for all, but how long it stays – that’s up to you. It’s up to you, to decide who you got to be, who you need to be. Would pondering under the dusky sky, help you to reconcile with yourself, and your happiness?

The park boundary is what divides darkness from sunlight, desolation from happiness and failure from success. What the ones who lie within the boundary do not know, is that, it only takes a single step. A single step is all it takes, to walk outside – to freedom, and to change who you are. Change who you are, because you yourself know, this is not who you are. You know yourself that you deserve better.

However to some, dusk is comforting. The vibrant colours painted across the sky, might be one of the best one has seen in a long time. As the skies fade, and as you sit there – forlorn, it seems as though everything and everyone is in agreement to your thoughts. Sitting in the park, and seeing people reflect your feelings, is more than enough at times. To know there are people out there like you, who can fathom the untold stories of a broken man, is just enough at times.

After all of this, I’d ask myself – “Is this why I like the dusk?”

Waiting For You

We watched the rain,
fall from the heavens above.
We dealt with our pain,
overburdened by love.
Divided by a lane,
I looked at you through my windowpane,
because whenever I needed you,
you were always there.

You were always there,
so why not now?
Where have you gone?
I've been looking around.
Come back quick,
or I can go nowhere.
Comeback quick,
and please, stay here.

Even though I know you might not return,
I'll be here by my window waiting for you.
As the hands of the clock continue to turn.
I'll be here by my window waiting for you.........

Rain (A Sonnet)

Watch the birds fly,
against the obscure skies,
flying everywhere – helter-skelter,
looking for shelter.
See the clouds encircle you,
waiting to cry over you.
The intense need to release their pain,
is expressed in the pouring rain,
as they want you to do the same,
to empty your sorrows along with the falling rain.
The pouring down rain,
washes my sadness away.
The pouring down rain,
makes my heart want to play.

Nothing Is Impossible

This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance to an actual person living/dead is a mere coincidence.

The word impossible itself spells – “I’m possible”. There is nothing impossible in the world, everything is possible. Especially if your efforts lie on the basis of belief, determination and self-confidence.
“I Naresh Sarwan narrate this story of how this world is full of limitless possibilities with the help of my writer. It was five years ago, when I was eighteen that suffering dawned upon me. I was on my motorbike, driving along the Worli-Sea-Face, when a car on the road perpendicular to mine broke the signal and ran into my bike. I was fortunate enough to have worn my helmet. However, that wasn’t enough. The accident was still brutal. I went right into the wall which divided the road from the sea.
The next thing I remember is waking up at the Lilavati Hospital seeing myself without arms. Horrified with the sight, I broke into tears. The doctors tried to explain to me, what had happened. Due to a few casualties, fatal ones, the only way to save me was by having my arms amputated. I lived one year in complete distress, lost hope and cursed myself, blaming myself for the accident. It was my elder sister who re-instilled confidence in me. The next four years, until now, I have devoted my time trying to paint using my mouth to hold brushes. It took nearly three years to perfect it. Despite my ‘disability’ as some would call it, the best year in my life was one after the accident, the previous year. My paintings have sold very well in the ‘Mouth and Foot Painting Artists’ exhibitions. I have learnt how to live life again. This NGO has open doors in my life, which my ‘normal’ life wouldn't have. ‘Mouth and Foot Painting Artists’ is a fabulous non-governmental organisation, giving opportunities to countless people like me.

I have learnt to look at the positive side of things. The accident in my life, wasn't just any kind of a mishap. It would change my life for ever, which I didn't think of till a year after the accident. This change, lit paths for me which I thought were inaccessible and taught me how important life is. It taught me how to pick myself up and dust my past away, and more importantly, it taught me how to live.

People Always Leave

With every furious storm,
There is destruction,
With every person who leaves,
There is a heart broken.

Like the waves of the sea,
That rapidly hit
against the shore,
People enter your life,
wanting some more.
Wanting some more of the attention,
which you so willingly
yet unnecessarily gave,
leading to a rise in your frustration.
And like the ebb tide,
Retreating from the shore,
People always leave,
taking some more.

It's funny how happiness,
comes out bursting at once.
Yet how sadness leaves,
slowly and so painful.
Like a knife to the heart,
removing it slowly.

But think about it -
Do people always,
leave at their own will?
Maybe it's just us,
Pushing them away?

The Schizophrenic Mind

It's easy for the tears of joy
to almost immediately find,
tears of sorrow;
For the person of a schizophrenic mind,
wanting to borrow
Time - thinking he's dying.

He hadn't laughed in a long time;
His life was nothing but a dish,
overpowered with lime.
He was haunted by
his fears of a brain tumour,
Which was just another one,
of his mind's rumours.

Laughing in a dream was
the most he could have.
He'd wake up almost immediately,
overwhelmed with a tear in his eye.
"The most I can have."
He'd go back to sleep with a sigh.

Soon enough,
Thoughts of death,
became an escape from deep regrets.
The thought of life -
became an excruciating pain, from a knife.
Tired of other's mind games -
a heavy work out in the gym;
He was now tired of his own
mind playing tricks on him.

March 2013,
Was the last I spoke to him,
The last I spoke to me.
That day, when he killed himself,
Was the last, I got to see myself.

Rants On Poems - The Road Not Taken.

Robert Frost's poem - The Road Not Taken gives light to decision making and what large an impact it can make.
When one comes across two roads, similar to eachother with different outcomes, one chooses what he/she feels is right. That one single choice, plays a big role ahead, in your life.
Such life changing decisions might be the smallest of decisions, which may seem easily decidable at the first glance but contain great amounts of depth.

Keeping two similar roads aside, what happens when one comes across two roads which are completely different from one and other but hold the same result? What would you do then? Would you randomly pick a path or would you look at the thorns below your feet on each of these paths?
Would a straight path with a sudden drop be preferred over a steep slope? In other words would you prefer a bullet to the heart, or a slow excruciating death?

When a road diverges into two contrasts,
Your hearts urges towards the one in which you'll last.

So, lost in the woods, which road would you take?
Time will tell.
Just follow your desires for your own sake.

The Promise

He made a promise to his best friend.
A promise to which time had no end.

A promise to be friends forever.
A promise that would keep them together.

She said there's no point, nothing ever lasts forever.
The promise is such, that someone's to be scarred forever.

Three years since that promise,
Now parted by distance,
Their friendship would never be a good riddance.

But,
Neither modest promises,
Nor nature's cruel plots,
Can compete with time.

Nothing lasts forever.
Ask him, he'll tell you, 
That time comes over.

"Oh how I wish I knew,
I'd be left alone by you.
You've left this world and gone far away.
No point of such a promise, I still hear you say."

Shake It Out

Birthdays to a few aren't exciting at all, especially when it comes to their own. What's the celebration for; The fact that you've lived an 'x' amount of years? Or is the fact of you being born celebrated? Well you grow older day by day. Why not celebrate every day?

A birthday, it's just another day in your life. You grow a year older everyday than what you were a year ago since that day. A birthday is like every other day.
You reflect back onto your past filled with regrets and disappointments.
A past filled with the departure of someone or the other.

You keep clinging onto a hope. A hope which you know is false, a hope which you know WILL disappoint you but a hope that pacifies the longing to wait in you.
However, the sorrowful blatant truth is that you have to just let go at times.
Let go of the times you had, being friends.
Let go of the person's absence in your gloomy moments at least trying to be there for you.
Let go of the fact that the person doesn't care to talk anymore.
Let go the pacts you had planned after turning 20.
Just let go.

It IS always the darkest before dawn.
It's now that I know how it is when you're gone.
But I have been able to Shake it out.
Shake out the past,
the past when you were around.
Maybe it's best if I don't have that friend.
Maybe it's best that I'm finally walking
away from this....... mess(?) Wanting it to end.

Who Is He? (Part IV)

How much ever I'd like to agree with what Shakespeare's said (All the world's a stage) I have to disagree. I feel our lives are the ones of a book. It is filled with chapters resembling the phases of our life. It’s spiced up with characters - the people who have an effect on the protagonist. Lastly, it has a sole ending - our life's destiny.
There's a chapter in every book which may be difficult to move on from, because we've been attached to it greatly. We get attached to it so immensely that we do not want to move on. Turning the page and ending the chapter gets you close to your ultimate ending. Parting with a character in one of the chapters in the book of life may not be easy, but is necessary for us to move on.

He patiently awaited the future letter,
Sat by the sea thinking, things would get better.
Still so restless. Who is he?
The world's based on a single lie, don't you see?

The lie which make you cry,
The lie which makes you sigh,
The lie which makes you ask "Why?!”

The lie which lifts your faith,
From the goods of life.
The lie which make you fail,
The chapters of life.

The lie that keeps you waiting.
The lie that keeps you from hating.
The lie that keeps you eager, for the chapters ahead.
The lie that keeps you from, wanting a character dead.

In this book of life, hope is such a lie.
The lie that makes him believe that he'll know "Who am I?"

Who Is He? (Part III)

He now knew what he wanted.
Everything was fine now, Everything was normal.
However by the past he still was - haunted.

With the fright of him losing friends,
With the fright of him just having to pretend;
That so called 'forgotten',
Still got to him.

He sat in the dark, he was afraid to face the truth.
"The false pretense in 'friendship'",
To him, was just too uncouth.

He was re-living his past,
hoping that the frustration would pass,
Could things for once get any better?
He thought so while writing himself a future letter:

"For once when things are going on right,
Life sadistically decides to avoid a fresh start
And like a row of tumbling dominos;
All in a flash, everything falls apart.

Although I should have known ages ago,
Who am I; will I ever know?"

Life. {Happy New Year!}

1st Jan 2013.
There is a stage in life when nothing seems to be working out. During that stage, life may throw at you - the opportunity to meet a certain 'someone' who would make the sadness a mere mirage and the hapiness a completely procurable reality.
A someone who you are so very similar too. If you are going through one of the 'universe's' inevitable tough times, don't worry you'll meet that 'someone' or discover the 'someone' in one of your friends.
I personally believe that everything that happens has a reason behind it, eventually leading for the good if you've waited patiently. I'm almost fifteen, got a lot to wait for.
Wait - it's sometimes all you can do.
Be Patient - you got a long life to live.
Being only fifteen, I strangely rant quite a bit about life-related issues in my poems and posts(Second one after the Friendships day). Anyway for me, life's whatever I described to you and it goes without saying that it's different to all. For someone it's a cake walk, for someone a roller-coaster ride, maybe the funny mirrors of a carnival for some; for a few it's just like a broken mirror on the floor where you're lost in the reflections, lost with what to do.
It's 12:45am now in India; 2012 has gone with the wind.
Best Of Luck all my readers and followers for the upcoming year!
Happy NewYear! :D
Enjoy! :D