A Reflection on Life...

Strange are the ways of life
Love one moment, the next, strife
Is it the fruit, or is it the knife?


Thoughts, oh thoughts, in my mind galore
Is a thought more than a bitchy whore
Which exists in endless store?


All is illusion, it is all a lie
Shackles that do nothing but tie
Would it not be better to die?

Toota hua dil...

Tumse na thi mujhe yeh ummeed

Arre bewafa, tune yeh kya kiya

Ek hi pal mein mere sapno ko

Chaknachur kar ke chodd diya...

Mujhe na pata tha ki tum hoge kathor

Meri dosti mein thi kya khot

Aisa kaun sa gunah kiya tha maine

Jo tumne pahuchai mere dil ko chot...

Paththar ya insaan, jo bhi ho tum

Aaj se itna jaan lo

Meri tarah kisi aur ka dil

Na todna, itna tthan lo...

Tumne hume dosti ke kabil na samjha

Par hum to hain ab bhi tumhare yaar

Kitne bhi sitam kar lo tum

Mere dil se na jayega tumhara pyaar...

Jab tak hai yeh zindagi apni

Tumhe apna dost manenge hum

Hume yeh pata hai hamare marne par

Tumko na hoga ek katra ghum...

Par itna sun lo mere dost

Kabhi na kabhi ayegi meri yaad

Tab rone ka fayda na hoga kyonki

Shayad yeh ho mere marne ke baad...

The Ocean Bed

Barren desert

He said he was,

A mirage of love.

Now that I think

What am I, then

I get an answer

The Ocean Bed.

Colourful life,

All around me.

Beautiful fishes and trees

Sometimes an adventurer,

A marine predator,

That's what I see.

See I do, and nothing else

Passive spectator

I can be called.

No role to play

I do have

Except to watch them all.

No rays of light

Ever reach me

Forever dark am I

That's why perhaps

I am so sad

Anyone would, if his

Very existence looks bad.

Surrounded by the beauties of nature

I know many

For whom I'm a necessity

But not a companion

Nor a friend

Can I ever be.

What a miserable thing I am

The Ocean Bed indeed.

No one to reach me

But sunken ships

No use am I

But to house the dead

And be cursed for it.

I'd rather be a desert

Out in the light

Than be in the dark, dark waters.

Water can bring

Desert's spring

But who can bring me salvation?

No, I'm not happy

As many do think

I am a depressed soul...

Lonely and morbid,

With no one to love,

Not even the Devil foul!

Permit me...

Permit me...to feel what I once felt before...
Permit me...to shake myself to the core...
Permit me...to live my life as I please...
Permit me...to forget my dreams with ease...
Permit me...to let my philophobia accrue...
Permit me...to give my guilt its due...
Permit me...to return what I did borrow...
Permit me...to drown myself in my sorrow...
Permit me...to indulge in my philandering trysts...
Permit me...to go and slit my wrists...

Denial

Denial is a powerful thing

Not just a river in Egypt

I wonder why they so sing

Not simply, but encrypt!

Conscious or not

But what you deny

Will get real hot

And in will fly!

Jay, Jay, you've gone mad

Sad, sad; that's so, so sad!

I'm the jaywalking Jay

Watch where you're going, they say

And I reply - nay, nay, nay

I'm the jaywalking Jay

I make my own way

Foolish, you are, at me they bray

Yes, indeed, you are a jay

You do nothing but waste your day

Work not at all and only play

Doesn't matter, I make my hay

Yeah, I do, come what may

For, I'm the jaywalking Jay

I make my own way

A/N: This is what the thing's supposed to look like, but I can't manage to format the thing...

I do not know why I am doing this. I do not want to know why I am doing this. I do not want to think about it anymore. I have given enough thought to the matter, turned it over in my mind again and again, but I have not been able to derive a convincing reason for my action. Yet, I must do it. I simply must. I do not have a choice. I know that I may not live long enough to finish what I start, yet I feel the compulsion to write. Maybe I do not want to be remembered as the cause of her downfall when I am actually innocent of the crime I am held guilty for. I shall probably soon depart from the world of the living. Forever. And the one person who could have saved me lies in a coma, no one knowing when she will wake up. How strange that the person who should be the one to have hated me the most is actually the only one who can save me! Perhaps she will awake after my death; the other, as can be seen from the introduction, does not care a fig. She will write the epilogue when she awakes. And if she does not wake up, the truth shall never come out. Maybe I am being stupid, but I really do not care anymore. And this is probably all I'm going to say about myself for quite some time, if not forever.