To write or not to write;Birthday post

Eyes wide open to the best of its vision and brain arduously working to the best of its notion. Is it that we write as our interest may merely lead us to. Is it not that we write because we feel only writing could sustain happiness in us, to feel the gap of our weirdest thoughts. In the middle of dark still night when my friends lay asleep with their eyes closed and mouth wide open, zealous am I with a blank page fighting every second to knit my obscured thoughts into the beautifully embroidered sentences. A swirling fan and the cold night adds inspiration to my inquisitive mind though.

Most of the time I am out of the post because my writings are way too personal, of course every writings are personal. To read to find as weird as person like me and to write to put rout to my misery has become a motto of my pallid life. Those young days of my cocooned self, those obstacles and miseries that laid before me beyond the age I bear are but the fuel to my writing. Only those were facets which made me as hard as stone and a firm man that I am today. 

Is it because an end to my wild teenage period that triggered sleepless night in me? Those were the days when I was matured before my age with the utmost wanting to be an adult and now I am today. Oh! I cant believe my sense and fathom the swindling nature of time. Nah! I am not twenty because the more I grow up the more immature I sense myself to be and today I am back to seventeen and eighteen where my eyes laid focused on her and only on her and no one else. I can clearly fancy her bizarre physique and her sad countenance. Those where the days when my heart was shattered until I meet thee, and it was a new beginning; a beginning which has got no ending. 

" I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I would believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything,'' F.Scott Fitzgerald. And I believe when the conscience is pure where thoughts are not marred by the malady of dubiousness that love comes at the best it should be.

Now I write not because I am a happy writer but I am happy when I write. Why not write when we are so inspired by the twists and turns of the events in our life? A writer shall write as far as his obsession may lead to and a mere interest or the imitation may not yield a good product.

To my fair love.

Dear Inspiration,

                       Nothing aches my heart as much as the weakness I have in gathering words to meet my psychic need. Nothing sores as much as my incompetence to convey you. It pains my heart and numbs my brain as I lay stuck with a blank page in front of me, my hand not confident enough to hold this pen of greater importance. But I shall choose to write though insignificant it may seem. I shall write even though my mind is barred by poor words of strangled thoughts. I shall write for you my dear.


Least I know of how you feel about me and the way I make you feel, the inconveniences are highly regretted if ever I cause one. Sometimes it’s hard for me to write for you lest I know not to which dimension your soul is confined. I find you always lacking emotions wherefore I beseech you to read the poem; my love is like to ice by Edmund Spencer. Love can be this much powerful; it can kill the misery of all kinds. I feel love is losing its supreme power in the trap of your own self-importance. I am pained by the way people look at love, their love of mediocre nature. Please bear my writing for I know not what to write and what not to write. But one thing I can be sure of; my attachments are growing day by day like a waxing moon since I met you and now I reached to the point of no return. Once again I have stumbled in the trap of loves baited hook, yet nothing is as soothing as  the way you make me feel, nothing as wondrous as my thought of meeting you; your calm face overwhelmed by the tinge of tangible smile.


Since you came to my life, since from the day one and so on and on, my life seemed beautiful; a rainbow in the sky. This gentle sensation in my heart and your tenderness, I am dissolving in you; your gracious self I am talking about. It seemed everything has come to me in a package. I can define myself but not without your presence in my life. You are the fuel to my starving engine, a muse for a poet in making, an inspiration for an amateur writer and only wealth I can think of. You are my incredible gem.

Your affectionate.

(Nubay)-God bless you

Again with a hermetic piece.....

Some says those who write to convey a message are overwhelmed by the powerful sense of timidity. Some says they are dramatic,driven by self delusion of those trivial fancies. But I write because every words I write so painstakingly is being one step more closer to you; our intimate souls and our heart beating but with one rhythm. I write because the words I speak seems obscure than the thoughts I make. My feelings vaster than the azure blue sky and my thoughts stronger than a bone. Let me write the words not written to the last dew of my ink. Let me write words forgotten and thoughts overlooked.

Those objects of an endearment. Those objects of power and strength to my tender self. Those objects revolving around my heart and giving it a wonderful rhythm. For them I shall write. Because only that way I can give my pure self;the crystal clear of my inner self. I can't ravish them by being so jolly a man because I am meant not that way. I can't flatter with the words I speak. For that I am the greatest fool alive torn between the dreadful realities of the world and my desirous fantasy.

Sometimes I wish the universe to confide with me; the sun,the moon and all natures force. By this way I can make this world an ideal place. I can be with the girl I love, my happy family by my side.All I can do is always desire and write without an efficacy. My words so impotent and my soul so whacked.

Even writing seems useless in this tiresome world of glitz and glamour. But I won't let my heart bleed to death by not writing. I don't want to let my spirit weep silently with the cruelest agony of not writing. I don't want to let my thoughts perish like a morning's dew. Because the words are me and I am the words I write. Forever I shall write; it was thus and thus it shall be forever more.
(MANIA)

GOING HOME.

Excitements are at its peak and my thoughts filled with those sweet memories of being together with my parents and family. Finally I am tracing my journey back home after a long await. My moves are filled with energy and my body active all over. Neither dancing nor singing helps me ease my excitement. I find myself frantically moving up and down in my room, with a natural and exaggerated curve on my face.

But a wise man knows how to calm down all those emotions. I shall always be a fool of embracing everything in my life. But I must say I am a wise fool.

Sometimes our emotions fly beyond the azure blue sky. Sometimes our emotions sink deep down in the depth of an ocean. Those ups and downs makes our life worth living. It is not the quantity but quality of the time that we spend doing good things makes a difference in our life. It is not about yearning to live for next hundred years. It is all about how to live a meaningful life within this short span of time.

This past week I have been reading a novel The last lecture by Randy Pausch. He was an American professor of computer science who died at the age of 47 due to pancreatic cancer. Amid of various feelings arising in my mind of meeting my parents and leaving my friends, I tried to concentrate and did it within a short span of time. I felt totally blissed of my commitment for reading and writing no matter what. The book was worth reading. An ordinary book written by an extraordinary pancreatic cancer patient. I loved his commitments and hard works. The two phrases given in the blurb really touched my heart;

'Time is all you have......and you may find one day that you have less time than you think.'

"I was trying to put myself in a bottle that would one day wash up on the beach for my children. If I were a painter,I would have painted for them. But I am a lecturer,so I lectured."

A question that struck million times in my crazy mind.........What will I do if I have only few months left to live??? Because a wise man always remember that the life is as uncertain as cloud looming on the horizon.

A letter to my friend.

Sometimes I feel too hard to write things down. Sometimes words aren't coming right. But I shall write because I can convey you more. I shall write because it is hard for me to write. The more I try to write, the more difficult it becomes. But the more I write, the more happier I becomes too. This is irony of life. The more we try to do things perfectly, the more difficult it appears. But sometimes I write and when I read that over and over again, the more meaningful my words appears. That time is the happiest moment for me; a heaven in the earth.

A maiden writer who is stuck between words to express and words not to express. The feeling of love,care,rage and anger. The feeling of flesh and blood: just ordinary. An amatuer writer who is deadly in love with someone too modest. Of million girls I fall for someone so modest and that has made all the difference. When my words aren't pleasing and when it seems too weak, it means you are beyond the words I express. Either accept my follies or curse me. Because I am an accursed guy and a selfish ill writer. Hope every wind that sweeps your charming face and every whispers that you hear be my love and care.

To my dear crony,
Did you ever fall in love with someone? Did you ever hear someone screaming for your love? Did you ever think which kind of guy am I? How many times you think of me in a day? But today neither I am screaming for your love nor it is an obligation for you to love me. I have fallen for someone before and my life has gone astray. I experienced pain but I don't have slightest of idea of an emotion what most of us desire. I know one-sided love is not good. The more I tried to be with her the more we drifted apart.I don't want to explain too much to you either. I know things will follow as I expect if we are meant to be together.

But you make me feel good when I am not doing fine.You make me realize that it is not good to do bad things. You understands every single puzzles of life. And sometimes I feels like the feelings are growing stronger. This world,a dark world do not belong to me. But when I realize it has already became my habit. I want some one to say its okay. I want someone to embrace me. I want someone to be my redemption.

Don't always go for perfection. Fall for someone not because you love his good things, but because you accept his follies. Because every human being have that untouched nature; very true,very polite and very caring. Don't ever give that to a wrong person. And every person have that madness and that insanity, a barbaric way of doing things. Don't imprison yourself of what others may think of you and enjoy life. A life is only once.

You know I am waiting for you to answer my only question. And that day will be the happiest moment of my life. But never answer me if you doubt me and if yourself is in hesitation. That day if ever you whisper your inner heart,if ever you say that you truly love me, we will elope from this world. We don't belong here. This world is so dangerous and people around are too scary. Lets go to heaven, a place you always dream about.

Thanking you
Your friend(Nubay)

A letter Of The Misfit

Today I cant stop myself from writing this in my blog. I am writing neither to plead for the love that was once unrequited nor to please the crowd with the way I felt before. It is only to do with the craving of my heart and I think I am not mistaken to listen to my heart.

DEAR MY UNKNOWN ANGEL,
I hope you are all fine up there with a smile on your face. May be you are mistaken or may be I was, that the things drifted apart with the pain in my heart. You have got the purest heart and an admirable disposition. I can vividly remember your smile and laughter. Your smile was an inspiration for me, though it was no better than a beguiling guise. The greatest moment for me was when you call by my name with that sweet melodious tone. My heart leaped when I beheld you. I jumped with joy when we played like those playful kids. I know your beauty is not fake because your heart is as beautiful as aforesaid. I can make out from the way you talk and the way you behave. May be too much of nagging isn't good. May be I was mistaken. Or may be it was lords plan that we cant pave our road together. The two year of stay together was short lived and I loved the fact that I cant figure you exactly. The more I knew you, the more mysterious you became. So I guess you are my unknown angel.

Your image keeps on haunting me and my heart clung to your youthful disposition. I got to experience the strangest in the feelings and extremities of an emotions. Love that I loved with a childhoods faith. The pain of separation and the joy of being together. I knew than that the love is most painful thing, yet so alluring. I believe that there is holiness in the hearts affection. But you were always matter of fact. May be you have taken my heart for granted. You have let my heart bleed to death. The world was dark and I was so aggressive because you blocked the way to my future. Past was painful and my future all shaken. I have done so many crazy things but I don't regret all those wrong doings. We make mistakes but at last we learn.

There ain't any reasons that I fall for you because love don't need any evidential  proof. But there are many reasons that I feared of losing you. I don't want to share those.
I now believe that there is purpose of you coming in my life. But now you are neither coming in my dream nor I can use you as my muse. You are gone forever, now not in my heart either. I know you will regret but don't let me know. I don't want to share your tears now.

THANK YOU
(MISFIT)

MILES APART

Sky is imperfect without a tinge of clouds
A garden is lifeless without flowers
Valley seems dull without meanders of water
A city without light and a house without tenants;
Abandoned,abandoned forever
The other horizon seems always cheerful and welcoming,
Yet too far to be reached
What is the charm of desert when an oasis is gone?
Because you are all oasis,
And I am as dead as desert


You are my muse
You are my redemption,
Yet I feels we are miles apart