Mar 18, 2009

Time-travel in a split second


Sleep in your mother’s arms once again. Experience the first rain. Discover the secret cave behind your house. Feel the snow between your fingers.


Invent things that haven’t yet been invented. Or fly in a plane without leaving the ground. Lie among tulips as you watch the birds. Live on the moon for that little while.


Fast forward or rewind. Freeze time and play with it.


Jump back to that moment. Or create one you imagined.


Forget the world. Find the world.


Bring life into one moment… a moment of escape.

Mar 16, 2009

Life @ 10 km/hr

Escape. To the little bylanes while zooming on a highway.
Choose the diversion, even when the road ahead is wide open. Take the sudden left turn down the mud-track. Steer away from long roads to travel at 10 km/hr. Discover your own road, and follow the scents and sounds.

Escape. To unknown places some afternoon.
Jump the fence, and reach strange yards. Climb a tree and look at the world down below. Fly a kite on the hill no one goes to. Lie down in the hay with your dog.

Escape. To find life in everything.
Compete with the wind to laugh out loud. Splash in the rain while on your way to work. Walk slowly and follow the snail. Smell the leaves and wave at the trees. Wink at the stars. Lie in the grass and stare at the sky.

Escape. To take a day off from time.
Forget your age and run in the park. Eat all you can. Leave a boat in the stream nearby. Find shapes in clouds of places far away. Watch the sky change colours through the day. Sing with the birds. Dance without reason.

Once in a while, walk slowly through life. Once in a while, escape the ordinary.

Mar 14, 2009

Don’t grow wings. Learn to fly without them.

Sometimes, when a room feels stuffy, all you need to do is open the window.

Just like in life.


All you need to do is break free. Just like a little kid, trying to break free from his inabilities, to try and reach his favourite toy. Like a tree swaying with the wind, trying to break free from the ground.


Break the permanency of routine. And be the vagrant ray of light that winds its way through darkness. Be the whiff of scent that leaves its flowers to mingle with the air around.


Be the little drop of water that trickles down unknown roads to find its puddle. Be the moonlight that finds a way into the most reticent corners of earth. When you are the tired traveller in the heat, be your own valley of flowers.

When looking for an escape, don’t look around. Create one within you. Leave your mind blank for a moment, and let all thoughts escape you. Don’t go looking for the answers to life. Make up the most interesting answers yourself.


Close your eyes and reach your heart. Don’t run away to look for a haven. Find your paradise right where you are.


Let a moment of change enter every second. Let a smile escape when moods are sombre. Don’t wait for wings to sprout so you can fly. Escape to your paradise anyway.


Feb 26, 2009

The vagrant wind

The whoosh of a wind as it swings past my ear
Whistling a tune, pleasant but unclear
A huge bag slung on its shoulder
The fuzzy fog trapped inside.

Hopping past the meadows
Ignoring the trees that beckon
Brushing the flowers with a touch
Scampering away merrily, grinning to everyone.

A tinge of mischief hidden beneath its folds
Spurts of giggles every now and then
Sprinting across as you look away
Sneaking away to the corner.

In the lands far and near,
As it explores what we so fear,
Rings a hollow laugh, a merry cheer
Left behind by the vagrant that swishes past.
- © HAEM ROY

Feb 13, 2009

OPPOSITES

(just a short story I wrote very very long ago)


Opposites


I am introverted, have always been so. I have never liked being in the limelight too much. The ‘In’ crowd is something I totally despise. I just can’t understand how they can live a life so dependent on others, on their friends; how they can share all their thoughts and feelings with someone else; and dress up and act and behave to impress others. Aren’t they satisfied with themselves? Why do they need others? I remain by myself most of the time; enjoy dressing up for my own pleasure. I am Sanskriti and I live with and for Sanskriti.


Oh yes, Sanskriti is one of the boring types I must say! I have known her since my childhood. Let me introduce myself first. I am Susie, and though I am 4 years younger than Sanskriti, I do know her very well. But she doesn’t know me. She was always scared to make friends, whereas I, quite unlike her, have always been a social person. I hold pride in my numerous friends and the ability to charm people. Sanskriti can’t charm even a dog even if she tries her best! I mean, look at her…oiled hair, no sense of dressing (where does she get these rags from?), cannot talk properly – forget English, always oblivious to everything…


Many laugh and make fun of my appearance. But then, what’s wrong with it? Oil is good for the hair; no one has hair as strong and healthy as mine. Those who have coloured their hair following the ‘trends’ will regret later on. I like my dresses, they are extremely comfortable and don’t suffocate you, or indulge in skin-show. And I speak very well when I am by myself, it’s just that I am not comfortable in company. I have been living a satisfied life, barring a few weird incidents. There are some periods in time when I am completely lost. It’s as if I lose consciousness and when I regain myself, I do not know what happened, don’t remember anything. But then, it just be due to weakness, as I often do not eat; I just don’t feel hungry.


Crazy she definitely is, and these ‘weakness effects’ are just signs of her madness. Living all by yourself will have some effect on the mind! No man is an island and all islands are in deep water. Forget her! I just can’t imagine her life. I live a life where I eat a lot, talk a lot and laugh a lot. Going to the movies, partying, enjoying all the pleasures that life has to offer. I have always been a free bird, with no one to bind me or stop me. I did what I liked, when I liked, since I was a kid. Who needs parents when you have so many friends?


My childhood was a learning process. My father was a strict disciplinarian and my Ma was a deeply religious lady. They imbibed in me their values and morals. I was taught to respect and obey all orders, work around the house, pray regularly, never speak or shout out loud and contain myself. I did try to follow all that, but I guess I am too clumsy. I wasn’t allowed to be friends with the guys, and they were too rough for me anyways. I had a couple of girlfriends, but none too close. I never had much to talk and was happy being with myself. That is the way to live – in all harmony and proper order. It was disastrous for me the day my father died. I was around 12 years old. I felt this deep sense of regret and loss. I do not know how he died, no one told me, and was kept away during his last rites. I was not allowed to even look at the body. Maybe they thought I would get scared. After Pa’s death, Ma’s behaviour towards me changed. She did not talk to me, or care for me. She just shunned me and always kept shouting at me whenever she spotted me. I think the death had affected her mentally. I cooked my own food when hungry, and continued with my activities by myself. She also died after a year or so, how I do not know or remember. After her death, I was sent to an orphanage as any of my relatives refused to accept me.


My Pop never gave me any freedom, always restricting and tracking every movement of mine. I wasn’t allowed to have many friends and boys were a strict no. But I loved hanging out with the boys; they were so much fun. We would play football, climb trees and do all sorts of cranky stuff. Of course Pop wasn’t supposed to know! Mom would ask me to do household chores, pray, etc. But I hated all that. I would mess up the chores purposely. These restrictions in fact egged me further and I tried my best to do just the opposite. They were bearing upon me too much. Finally, one day I couldn’t take it any longer and I killed Pop with my switchblade knife. Everyone was shocked and thought I had gone crazy. Mom now hated me and stayed away. Maybe she was scared! She would occasionally try to discipline me and order me around. But I showed her too that I was not to be pushed around. I killed her too…


I considered the orphanage my home and started living there normally. I got used to the lifestyle and didn’t need much for myself. I got into college and concentrated only on my studies. But, however hard I studied, I never managed to get satisfying marks. College was when these weakness-blackouts increased, sometimes even during exams. But I managed.


Yes, it was the orphanage where I knew Sanskriti properly. I was sent there after I killed Mom as all were now scared of me. Maybe they thought I was a serial killer! Ha ha! She would follow all orders, stay within her room and remain to herself. Most boring I believe! I, on the other hand, got friendly with almost everyone, including the watchman and peon. They would help me when I wanted to sneak out for a party or something. Studies were never my interest. In fact, I hardly studied. During exams I somehow managed to scrape through with a bit of divine and ‘other’ help.


These blackout phases are seriously scaring me now. I recently visited the doctor finally and he too was confused. He did not know what ailed me and thought maybe I should see a psychiatrist or something. I just hope it’s no serious illness. Two days ago I found some things in my cupboard, which did not belong to me. There were some clothes, the modern ‘trendy’ types and make-up. I found some cigarette packets and a switchblade knife and was shocked. There was also a diary with Susie written on the front cover. I did not know how all that came there. Maybe I had made a new friend during these unconscious ‘blackout’ phases that I do not remember. That’s when it started to worry me.


Well, she had to find out one day, and so she will. She found my stuff in her cupboard and wondered whose it was. Of course she doesn’t know me yet, so she is confused. But once she does, she will be shocked, terrified maybe. Earlier I would hide my things at places she never looked at, but at the orphanage there was no option. And it was here that I felt more free and expressed myself more often. That’s how she became suspicious and went to that stupid doctor. But of course he couldn’t find out anything. I can hide myself so well that I bet even the psychiatrist will be baffled. Though I do intend to get introduced to Sanskriti soon. I am eager to see her reaction, because helpless as she is, she won’t be able to harm me of course. I am much stronger. But she has to know me, her opposite, her other half, her other personality ….


Haem Roy

Dec 4, 2008

I can manage



When the tide turns on me
When every step beholds a rock
I'll be fine
Cos I can manage.

When the world seems lost
And I grapple with directions
I'll be fine
Cos I can manage.

As you worry about your own
Go on with your life
Don't bother about me
Cos I can manage.

When I need someone
I'll hold my own hand
Don't look back at me
Cos I can manage.

But don't worry for when you are low
Or just need a push to go
It's you who I'll look at first
Cos my own I can manage.

- © HAEM ROY
Dec 04, 2008.

Oct 1, 2008

The lonely bungalow feel


The sweet smell of grass envelops
dew hanging mid-air
mist tying you up all around
a gush of darkness approaches the ground

stars float about, having their siesta
the moon has just stopped bothering
the cottage before you stands in a permanent shadow
the trees covering its promiscuity

and as the crickets begin their speech
the tiny world silently listens
tip-toe, whisper or scream

No other sound will get ears

a wave of eeriness and you walk faster
wanting to get away, but being pulled back
as you crunch the gravel along the road
it's always a wide stretch - behind you or ahead

all your senses alert almost
your Mind wafting away
hushed whispers are all your mouth can manage
seems like someone's carried your voice away

your lonely cottage is your Den
the shadows around it ignored
a tiny lamp your constant companion
the trees sharing the secrets hidden from you
with restless peace your heart keeps beating
as you sleep enveloped by the Lonely Bungalow Feeling...
- © HAEM ROY 
1.10.08

Sep 11, 2008

I want to run away

I want to backpack...

Just pick a haversack, put in a few things, carry some money, a map and set out. Maybe decide the 1st location, only the 1st. And then go by the wind, or impulse. Explore the uninhabited, dine with the locals, hitchhike down roads, bathe in waterfalls and write by the stream. Breathe in the fresh air, read a story that the clouds draw, listen to the music that the little village boy with the flute composes... and sleep in a sleeping bag under the stars.

But... (there is always a fricking but), responsibilities, home... family to care for!

Ah well.. some day for sure. I know. And those wishing to join me are most welcome.