Lies we told…

____love_hurts__by_marusska

The lies we told
As if to behold
The moment which is spent
Not much is left
For us to repent.

Quite shiny it looks from outside
Gestures of these young lovers.
Hiding, are they?
Or just acting under cover.

Tracing the steps of love
Follows hatred to its door.
Perceived it to have died,
Causes the removal,
Of sentiments from the core.

Once together and entwined,
Heart ceases to live, to crave and to be satiated.
And that my friend,
Causes the love to be a liability.

Aside

The Buried Life

images

Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,

Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet!

I feel a nameless sadness o’er me roll.

Yes, yes, we know that we can jest,

We know, we know that we can smile!

But there’s a something in this breast,

To which thy light words bring no rest,

And thy gay smiles no anodyne.

Give me thy hand, and hush awhile,

And turn those limpid eyes on mine,

And let me read there, love! thy inmost soul.

Alas! is even love too weak

To unlock the heart, and let it speak?

Are even lovers powerless to reveal

To one another what indeed they feel?

I knew the mass of men conceal’d

Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal’d

They would by other men be met

With blank indifference, or with blame reproved;

I knew they lived and moved

Trick’d in disguises, alien to the rest

Of men, and alien to themselves—and yet

The same heart beats in every human breast!

But we, my love!—doth a like spell benumb

Our hearts, our voices?—must we too be dumb?

Ah! well for us, if even we,

Even for a moment, can get free

Our heart, and have our lips unchain’d;

For that which seals them hath been deep-ordain’d!

Fate, which foresaw

How frivolous a baby man would be—

By what distractions he would be possess’d,

How he would pour himself in every strife,

And well-nigh change his own identity—

That it might keep from his capricious play

His genuine self, and force him to obey

Even in his own despite his being’s law,

Bade through the deep recesses of our breast

The unregarded river of our life

Pursue with indiscernible flow its way;

And that we should not see

The buried stream, and seem to be

Eddying at large in blind uncertainty,

Though driving on with it eternally.

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,

But often, in the din of strife,

There rises an unspeakable desire

After the knowledge of our buried life;

A thirst to spend our fire and restless force

In tracking out our true, original course;

A longing to inquire

Into the mystery of this heart which beats

So wild, so deep in us—to know

Whence our lives come and where they go.

And many a man in his own breast then delves,

But deep enough, alas! none ever mines.

And we have been on many thousand lines,

And we have shown, on each, spirit and power;

But hardly have we, for one little hour,

Been on our own line, have we been ourselves—

Hardly had skill to utter one of all

The nameless feelings that course through our breast,

But they course on for ever unexpress’d.

And long we try in vain to speak and act

Our hidden self, and what we say and do

Is eloquent, is well—but ‘t is not true!

And then we will no more be rack’d

With inward striving, and demand

Of all the thousand nothings of the hour

Their stupefying power;

Ah yes, and they benumb us at our call!

Yet still, from time to time, vague and forlorn,

From the soul’s subterranean depth upborne

As from an infinitely distant land,

Come airs, and floating echoes, and convey

A melancholy into all our day.

Only—but this is rare—

When a belovèd hand is laid in ours,

When, jaded with the rush and glare

Of the interminable hours,

Our eyes can in another’s eyes read clear,

When our world-deafen’d ear

Is by the tones of a loved voice caress’d—

A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,

And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again.

The eye sinks inward, and the heart lies plain,

And what we mean, we say, and what we would, we know.

A man becomes aware of his life’s flow,

And hears its winding murmur; and he sees

The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze.

And there arrives a lull in the hot race

Wherein he doth for ever chase

That flying and elusive shadow, rest.

An air of coolness plays upon his face,

And an unwonted calm pervades his breast.

And then he thinks he knows

The hills where his life rose,

And the sea where it goes.Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,
Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet!
I feel a nameless sadness o’er me roll.
Yes, yes, we know that we can jest,
We know, we know that we can smile!
But there’s a something in this breast,
To which thy light words bring no rest,
And thy gay smiles no anodyne.
Give me thy hand, and hush awhile,
And turn those limpid eyes on mine,
And let me read there, love! thy inmost soul.

Alas! is even love too weak
To unlock the heart, and let it speak?
Are even lovers powerless to reveal
To one another what indeed they feel?
I knew the mass of men conceal’d
Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal’d
They would by other men be met
With blank indifference, or with blame reproved;
I knew they lived and moved
Trick’d in disguises, alien to the rest
Of men, and alien to themselves—and yet
The same heart beats in every human breast!

But we, my love!—doth a like spell benumb
Our hearts, our voices?—must we too be dumb?

Ah! well for us, if even we,
Even for a moment, can get free
Our heart, and have our lips unchain’d;
For that which seals them hath been deep-ordain’d!

Fate, which foresaw
How frivolous a baby man would be—
By what distractions he would be possess’d,
How he would pour himself in every strife,
And well-nigh change his own identity—
That it might keep from his capricious play
His genuine self, and force him to obey
Even in his own despite his being’s law,
Bade through the deep recesses of our breast
The unregarded river of our life
Pursue with indiscernible flow its way;
And that we should not see
The buried stream, and seem to be
Eddying at large in blind uncertainty,
Though driving on with it eternally.

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us—to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.
And many a man in his own breast then delves,
But deep enough, alas! none ever mines.
And we have been on many thousand lines,
And we have shown, on each, spirit and power;
But hardly have we, for one little hour,
Been on our own line, have we been ourselves—
Hardly had skill to utter one of all
The nameless feelings that course through our breast,
But they course on for ever unexpress’d.
And long we try in vain to speak and act
Our hidden self, and what we say and do
Is eloquent, is well—but ‘t is not true!
And then we will no more be rack’d
With inward striving, and demand
Of all the thousand nothings of the hour
Their stupefying power;
Ah yes, and they benumb us at our call!
Yet still, from time to time, vague and forlorn,
From the soul’s subterranean depth upborne
As from an infinitely distant land,
Come airs, and floating echoes, and convey
A melancholy into all our day.
Only—but this is rare—
When a belovèd hand is laid in ours,
When, jaded with the rush and glare
Of the interminable hours,
Our eyes can in another’s eyes read clear,
When our world-deafen’d ear
Is by the tones of a loved voice caress’d—
A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,
And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again.
The eye sinks inward, and the heart lies plain,
And what we mean, we say, and what we would, we know.
A man becomes aware of his life’s flow,
And hears its winding murmur; and he sees
The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze.

And there arrives a lull in the hot race
Wherein he doth for ever chase
That flying and elusive shadow, rest.
An air of coolness plays upon his face,
And an unwonted calm pervades his breast.
And then he thinks he knows
The hills where his life rose,
And the sea where it goes.

By
Mathew Arnold

A Special Morning

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♥A special morning for me would be a morning when I wake up and blessed with a chance to live my childhood again. As I’m a grown up twenty-five year girl now, I crave for the days which are gone. While writing this I feel nostalgic because that was really the golden time of life which is worth living again. I wish for the mornings when waking up late wouldn’t mess up things for my life, when I’m not supposed to cook for myself and others rather I insist someone to cook something special for me.

After being independent in life, I have truly recognized the value of time, family, money and all the things which I took for granted being a child. But one more thing that I’ve learnt after all this while is the significance and the speciality of childhood.

For me, a morning where I can afford to be late, to  make silly errors which can or cannot be expected , to take risks, to daydream, to forget dates and deadlines, a time where I don’t care about anything except flying, like a lark. It would be a time when I pick my school bag and go to school again to read, to learn, to imagine, to play, to explore, to laugh and sing the song of my heart.

Life becomes mundane when we grow up and we tend to follow all the rules which are dictated to us in some way or the other. I’m not against following rules and restrictions but the sort of innocence with which a child breaks a rule without worrying about being judged for his or her behaviour is totally different and actually a blessing to have.

Heritage Exhibition

Nowadays I’m teaching about Indian heritage in my History class. While describing the events, monuments, traditions and skills of olden times, I was thinking if I could give them a deep insight into the topic by going beyond the textbook.

One field trip to the museum would have helped but not much, one round of audio-visual clips would have triggered interest but not till the depth of the topic. There was a constant need to touch the things and feel it.

The thought struck me when we started discussing the skills of weaving and spinning. I was discussing different fabrics with them and then I realized how nice it would be if the students could actually touch the fabrics and realize the difference in each of them. After all, fabrics are meant to be touched and felt, not just discussed. This thought made me think what can be done for this by staying within the four walls of classroom and still exploring the beauty and glory of past. I wanted to surprise my students with something they didn’t expect their teacher would do on just another day.

Somebody once told me that we all should spend sometime thinking over the steps we want to take so that we’re able to deliver better.

Some words can get you started. I began to execute my plan. For me, it was a step ahead than the traditional. It was just a small effort for my children because they are special.

I collected different variety of fabrics, embroidery and thread work from different sources. Arranging them was a bit of task, but colleagues supported enough to get it done. A small exhibition displaying different fabrics, embroidery, other thread work, pictures and artefacts of ancient time with some encyclopedia were kept to enlighten them with something tangible and new. The heritage walk was followed by a feedback session in which I asked the students about what things they liked, what they remember and what changes they expect.

The outcome of the event is that now they look forward to the History class. There comes a time when being an educator we start over-preparing even for the not-so-important things, for we know someone is expecting more from us. The best thing about this Heritage walk is that the slow learners learnt few things out of it and I saw some new hands being raised in my History session which was a moment of proud for me as an educator.

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I don’t know, since when,

Holding your hand and walking beside,

Turned into clinging and forced you to divide.

You would be happy to know,

I somehow learnt walking alone,

Yet feel strong.

About happiness I cannot say much,

For you never count it with smiles and gestures.

The story of happiness is such.

The journey might become cumbersome,

Gardens might turn graveyards,

And barren would be the paths.

The more I tried,

The more I kept losing.

The more I took pains,

The more I was treated with disdain.

Once you were the twinkle of my eyes,

The voice in my words,

The calmness on my face,

And my footprints’ trace.

Such is the history of love,

Incomplete, obsolete and discreet.

 

A letter to Darry…

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There are days,

There is time,

When I need the blessings,

The blessings to climb.

It took a lifetime,

For me to know,

How it is to be a parent,

And may be not just a parent, but to be someone like you.

A parent who never gives upon you.

I feel like the lark,

That enjoys the freedom in day.

And an owl at midnight,

That cries under bedsheets today.

Gone are the days,

When the word Papa,

Was the solution of every squeak.

Gone are the days,

When holding your finger,

I could walk miles.

Dad, you are the shining star

I want to see everyday.

You are the medicine,

Of all my squeaks and strains.

Separation might have taken you away,

Your teachings will always find their way.

With love on this Father’s Day…Love you Papa!

Lessons Learnt

Living away from home has never been easy for anyone. We got to do a lot of adjustments and settlements here and there. In the end, we may or may not be satisfied, yet we get accustomed to the whole thing and make peace with it. Those who could not, give way to fear or defeat. After all, it’s the courage to continue that actually counts. This whole living-away experience gives us several things and in the end, we find ourselves mustering a bag full of memories of solitude and self-discovery. Luckily, mine has been a good one so far.

A sneak peek into the lessons learnt until now 😉

1. Family Members

No matter wherever we go on this planet, family members are the first ones who would make a huge difference when you choose to stay away. Their presence in life and around you does matter whether we realize or not. We usually don’t, until they’re gone for some reason. So, respect them, treat them with utmost importance and take care of them, for you may not realize their worth today, but someday you will.

2. Roommate- Immediate family

Lucky are the ones, those who have a good one to spend their time. If our roomie is kind and helpful, then our experience becomes an adorable one. Though, at times, difference in opinions may occur or ‘ the Ego’ might get hurt in conflicts. But all that becomes acceptable, if it is in moderation and do not cross the limits of decency or what we say healthy discussions. Always remember, when family is not there, he/she will give you the kind of mental and emotional support which only family gives and will make you think that you’re not alone in your hard times.

3.Do not overlook any skill

Sometimes we do not realize the value of few things, we tend to underrate them and keep longing for more. Longing for more is okay, but we should never underestimate a skill. In the long run, it can become a game-changer.

4. The do-it-alone strategy works

The first step is always the scariest one. It often acts as a big restraint in our endeavours. Trust me when I say, go for it and do not stop and take the charge of whole thing alone. Do not wait for people to accompany you in your troubles, because they may help you today, but they won’t forever. So, yeah take the lead, be the captain of your ship and victory will follow.

5. Distractions distract

There will be quite a few distractions around you. Things you crave for, things you don’t want anymore, people you are afraid to face and such. If you’re on a goal drive and are preventing yourself to come across any such situations, believe me, they will chase you like anything. Our will power becomes the saviour at such times.

6. The ‘You’ in you will surprise you

Yes, it is true. If you have dared to leave everything dear to you once aside and have considered the idea of staying alone to achieve something, then you are in for a surprise. The hidden ‘You’ inside you will appear in your hardships and will show that you can do it too.

7. Mental worries

Life is full of ups and downs, few mental imbalances, traumas, trials and tribulations, some great people and some terrible ones. Learn from your failures and do not give up. You might not be able to do it today, but perseverance is the key. Accept the decisions of destiny with grace. Be a little selfish and go on.

As is rightly said somewhere,

“You’ll have bad times, but it’ll always wake you up to the good stuff you were’nt paying attention to.”

8. In the end, you’re alone

You might be surrounded with family, friends, relations , love today, but a time will come when you will be left with none of them and that day you will be on your own. People will claim love, show care, behave nicely, support you, but one day they will leave you to deal with everything on your own. So, I think we all should live away and alone at least for once in a while. It gives you that feeling of how it is like to be on one’s own.

As the famous author says,

“I think it’s very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person.”

9. It’s all about being happy

Happiness is overrated. Happiness has different definitions. It is not confined in few things. Anything can be a reason for anybody to be happy. For me, if I’m able to do my work perfectly, if I get good company and have a bunch of kind people around me, have a goal in my life to achieve, have a plan to implement, I’m happy. A thoughtless life and an aimless journey never gives you happiness.

10. Money matters

It is only after I started living on my own, I truly recognized the value of each penny I earn, each penny I spend, each penny I waste and each penny I save. Nobody likes to give away their hard-earned money to flow like foam. I learnt that earning is easy, the secret lies in saving it for future and making the righteous use of it. It is a skill must for everyone.

Into you….

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As long as I have known you ,

I have known love.

As much as I have seen you,

I have seen care.

As far as I have gone with you,

I have felt devotion.

As more as we have grown together,

I have learnt to be into you.

Words, phrases or anything the tongue spells,

Fails every attempt of telling the yearn,

I bear in my heart.

Time has this habit of being cruel all the time,

So, I wait, wait and wait.

As long as I remember thee,

I have never been lonely.

As long as we stick together,

Your heart is the only place to be.

Please do me a favour,

Kneeling down, I ask,

To make this one the last.

For love doesn’t need to be perfect,

It just needs to be true.

And for as long as I’m into you,

I dream to go through.

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It’s love and love, sheer love,

That is talking right now.

Letters, words or phrases,

Nothing make sense for now,

It’s like a bud is bloomed.

Since like ages,

I have it rehearsed in my mind.

You my baby,

Showed them the way to reality.

From the kiss we had,

To the meals we shared,

The love you showered,

Is inexpressible.

A lifetime one needs to have them altogether.

Darling, you gave me everything,

Like forever.

Unforgettable beautiful moments,

eminences of the times,

Makes me feel,

I woke up from a delightful dream.

But, as I lay my head against your chest,

To feel your arms around me,

I know what I feel is destiny.

missing home

Give me back

those little steps,

Give me back,

the loud innocent cry.

Give me back,

The warmest hug,

The sweetest kiss

And the strongest bond.

Never thought this day,

Would take away,

Everything I had

From the starting till the end.

All I can do

Is to travel all through.

It takes a lifetime,

To collect memories,

Like they do pearls

Each memory worth the pain that buries.

Often I think

May be that was it.

May be, I lost them all

All at once.

May be this is what they say,

Is how a homesick feels.

May be this is the same feeling,

That even my thoughts used to dread.

May be this is

How moments turn into memories

Before we realize.

May be this is the place,

People call emptiness.

Nothing is left to be cherished,

all I have now,

Is a room full of loneliness and memories.

Leaving everything behind,

is never easy,

For people might come and go,

It’s their memories which stay.