The Good Evening Melancholy

The Good Evening Melancholy

The melancholy of the evening
Hits me hardest on this day, today
The usual shrapnel of a faraway bomb
Replaced by the ticker and the beater
Inside my chest and sleepy eyelids, today

The conquest of my world is lost
The armies I command draw no fire, today
Left out on the open plain, the open drain
They celebrate the battle they have not yet fought
Inside themselves, as they prepare for the rot, today

Not today
The rot, not today
They say after me, not today
They say with eyes unblinking
They say with their widest grins
They say, not, today

The games played by the mind and the minds
The faceless words and the epithets
The grins of a thousand toothless faces
They always knew, not, today

This melancholy and the memories
Littered with today's songs and monologues
I see a change in the leaves of a distant continent
The change of seasons and change of hearts
I see it before it sees that I've seen

The melancholy of a dusty evening of changing seasons
I've seen it all

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

The Night Sheep's Wool

The Night Sheep's Wool

Its been a while since a night like this, funny
Has kept me awake
Been counting sheep and wolves and the lot
Those things that were never
Or ever did they belong where I thought them to

A myopic fate dreams of a parallel universe
Where nothing tunes out
Nothing breaks the harmony, nothing rots
Just as I traverse through
Its spring, and fall beckons too through the carpet

The mosaic of flowers, of faces and shadows and ...
And images that blur my sight
Hazy memories and witnesses who ask their due
They were a part too
Of a story they recall distinctly as being untrue

There are questions I ask, to no one in particular
The whys and why-nots mostly
Where and how matter less, questions of a lesser appeal
To a lost night, a lost story
The author of a smile mischievous and motive unknown

The author of this story was a hunter
He tamed wolves and hawks
And on a steed he came, galloping, high head
Wind through the hair
As I lay grasping the last pages of his book

The questions remain, the whys and why-nots
Entwined in unchaste knots
The knots counted by a ship that sails far east
And into the west, why?
They say the earth is round so, a spheroid

It does not matter to me, it should not rather
As for where do I stand
The earth remains steady - it always has
The sky shifts - tell me why?
No, tell them, tell the people out there

Tell them that its never night, I'm never asleep
The bed-sheets never crumble
The dreams they never have seen, nor have I
The sheep and the wolves are real
And I - the stand of wool that was lost in the hunt

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Other Late Night Escapades @ Parched For Rain:

Kerb || A Walk On A Still Night || Summer Night || Tonight

Haiku Collection - Part1

"Nag"

jazzy evening sessions
nag machine hits a solo
cut out that dumb noise 

-x-x-x-

"Survive"

day away from work
boredom killed curio the cat
survive, I shall this

-x-x-x-

"Brussels"

thirty dead, many lost
flick, flicker, boom-boom, kaboom
I still hate traffic

-x-x-x-

"Pray"

hope's distant glimmer
wide eyed, crazy mounted steed
pray today come, pray

-x-x-x-

"Galat Ladki"

zimmedar ban aaj tu zara
fark hai, rahe anjaan bhale hum
ladki galat, ya sahi

-x-x-x-

"Ask"

bullet through my head
casket and a bed of lead
this is all I ask

-x-x-x-

"Reunion"

cat among pigeons
jokes of old, salted, matured
as friends meet today

-x-x-x- 

"Independents"

possibilities
myriad, an inspired dawn
for independents

-x-x-x- 

"Touch"

ripples after stone
avalanche after mountain echoes
she's touched me again

-x-x-x- 

"Flame Of The Forest"

anticipant through tinder
blooms flame of the forest
a lost hope ignites

-x-x-x- 

"An Evening By The River"

slow sets lazy sun
a prolonged destinal longing
as seawards she winds

-x-x-x- 

"Celebrations"

bells, gongs, drums, cymbals, men
the quiet heart steadies how
cacophony erupts

-x-x-x-

"Life Filtered"

the plot peaks and dips
filtered to best behavior
a life takes shape

-x-x-x-

"Songwriting"

songs don't write themselves
but flow as memories unchecked
as floodgates crumble

-x-x-x-

"Gravity"

i'm your gravity
your lone flights of fantasy

takes life from my love

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain
Blog Contents

Book Review: The Calling by Priya Kumar

I - Reviewer!

To be honest, first up, I was a bit skeptical. And a bit nervous too. I had with me a copy of 'The Calling: Unleash Your True Self', an inspirational book (novella, perhaps, of 150 odd pages?) by Priya Kumar. I'm, in some way, wary of this genre of inspirational books - most of these just sound so preachy! This was my first exposure to the author; and first exposure to the concept of reviewing a book.

The book cover ...

I now had three simultaneous tasks on my hands:
1: Read the book, understand the book, understandthe author and understand what it meant to me
2: Review the book
3: Remember to enjoy the book while balancing 1 and 2

Reasons enough to be nervous, I suppose!

-x-x-x-

Possible Spoiler Alert

The book has a message - the hand-written foreword/note by Priya Kumar gives some insight too. It is the way the book sets about to tackle this message is what makes it interesting. The story revolves around the protagonist Arjun, who suffers a massive mid-life crisis - an unsatisfying job which pays decently, not many people who can be considered friends and to top it all the wife seeks separation. He also has exhausted the fuel in his car by the time we are midway through the first chapter.

What follows are a series of accidents and restorations - both physical and spiritual - where Arjun meets up with some uncanny and possibly unnerving characters who act as guides in Arjun's journey of self-discovery. The book - and Arjun - starts near Shimla and ends up in the Garhwal Himalayas at Hemkund Sahib, via a quick detour to the Valley Of Flowers.

The book is Arjun's journey. Through the journey it dwells on concepts and ideas like 'role of a friend', 'role of a guide', 'your understanding of your surroundings and its betterment', 'how to build your story around your lot of people' and most importantly 'the unwavering belief in oneself'. The concepts, ideas and their presentation take the reader on an intriguing journey. Yet, everything is easily relate-able at the same time.

-x-x-x-

You Talk Too Much ...

This is my frustration with Arjun. Arjun is the narrator of this book - he's in the thick of all the action and story-telling that one sees in the book. Yet, one gets the feeling that Arjun is sitting somewhere in a house in Delhi narrating this story at a gathering of pre-teens. His narration is too superfluous - especially during high adrenaline sequences where one would expect a more crisp and concise writing. The editing table could probably have used a busier hand.

The role of Jay - a friend of Arjun's and a secondary character - seems to conflict the book a bit, considering that at least in Arjun's opinion Jay has everything sorted. The roles of the spiritual characters are etched with sheer perfection, giving an edge to the story. Chandu is a delight with strikingly balanced realist and spiritual sides. And who uses a Blackberry these days?

-x-x-x-

Parting Shot

'The Calling: Unleash Your True Self' is a worthy read, especially for people who plan to rise up the corporate ladder. It gives a saner perspective to life - all that goes in to differentiating you from a good resource to a good person. For me, it comes at a time when I'm battling in a way to keep my aspirations afloat in a work environment where notions of professionalism and rationality have taken a backseat to patchwork engineering. I hope to work more effectively towards my calling too.

And by-the-way, when it comes to the workplace, everyone is replaceable! Enjoy!

Also, it takes long buddy!

-x-x-x-

Details

'The Calling: Unleash Your True Self'
Author - Priya Kumar
Genre - Inspirational / Motivational
Published by - Books That Inspire
Contact - www.priya-kumar.com
Cost - INR299/-

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Note: Images in this post are not owned by me.

Abandon Ship

Abandon Ship

Where does the ship sail?
The one that trusts the wind
And the choppy sea waves
Yet discardeth it's oars
To make haste?

Where does the ship sail?
Hands of whose oarsmen slip
And seek the limp rudder
Yet forget they the man
Who binds them?

Where does the ship sail?
The captain when dreams
And lusts for solid land
Yet a compass he's read not
Of dead needles?

Where does the ship sail?
Us lifeboats care not
And sturdy as we are
Yet swiftly ready for a call
Of "Abandon Ship!"

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Dread Takes Over

Dread Takes Over

You’ve scaled your unsavory peak
Aint nowhere more to go
The deep dark valley beckons
And you know you’ve to go
Hold your heart still my friend
‘cause the unknown never has an end

It’s a new day, bright, sunny and blue
Start over with a fresh chalk and slate
Your thoughts reach for the night
And for its shadow you wait
Through the day you stagger by
‘cause the night is when you can truly cry

Upon your word I cast myself
Paint your banner in my blood
Yet in your eyes I see the battle is lost
The enemy comes over like the flood
I take my sword and off with my head
‘cause it’s a new you, my master is dead

Fear it was not, nor will it be
We fear what we know, see or are told

Its long lost cousin, is dread
It creeps with our necks in hold
Hold your soul as it sinks to the never
‘cause that’s when dread takes over

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

My Sin

My Sin 

Addiction ... your addiction has taken me places
Just to feel you
Inside me ... around me ...
But you dragged me to hell
Oh! Heavenly hell
With those black lips
And those sinister quips
I don't think I'll win
Oh! You are my sin ... my sin ...

I nail myself
To this ground
It hurts ... you hurt ...
'cause you've dragged me to hell
Trapped in your spell
I want you to crumple in my arms
As I feel you ... reveal you
But I don't think I'll win
Oh! You are my sin ... my sin ...

I look up half awake
See you rising above
It scares me ... you scare me ...
'cause you've dragged me to hell
Trapped in your spell
I want you to serve me
As you caress me ... release me
But I don't think I'll win
Oh! You are my sin ... my sin ...

I see you with a new guy
Maybe just a new toy
It angers me ... you anger me ...
'cause you've dragged me to hell
Trapped in your spell
I will make him pay you for your time
As i break him ... even kill him
But I don't think I'll win
Oh! You are my sin ... my sin ...

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Kerb

Kerb

Left, right , left; turn
Right, left, right; turn
Headlights; can see a car comin by
My thumb does the talking n then I try
“Maam ….. I mean Sir …..
Just for a moment I thought you were …..
[Crap... you look a bit like my spouse!!!]
Could you drop me to my house?
Promise it’s not too far
Can I hop into your car?”
Once inside, I closed the door
Remembered something on heels and a dance floor
He asked me left or right
Does he share my commie fright?
I showed him random hands He was looking at his petrol band
I think we were moving in circles
I saw twice myself kissing the girls
I saw it at the same lamp post
I saw it from the home of the old host
When you hear the click of heels
On a lonely night one feels
Is it a virtue to stand straight?
Yelled at the gate
After the car screeched
Is it sanity that I breached?
A bewildered driver looked on
“Don’t sit by my side son
You are a driver, as good as one may be
Drive on, cant you see
It aint my house, the guy just copied the door”
Oh those legs on the dance floor!
Bang … my driver punched me, bloody scoundrel
And I landed on slush of a mongrel
My driver drove off my car
Left me stranded on that stretch of tar
I would fire that rascal once I get home ….
Oh … where was my home ?

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Other Late Night Escapades @ Parched For Rain:

A Walk On A Still Night || Summer Night || Tonight || The Night Sheep's Wool

Short Story: The First Kiss

The First Kiss

It was a long summer night. Nothing much to do either. No one to cross the river. No cars. Not even any dogs. The bridge lay there quietly gazing at the moon. It was quite a bright night too - two nights after the full moon.

"But not that bright!", the bridge thought. "Nothing could ever be as bright as that lovely night ...", he mumbled.

The river, unmindful of the bridge above, trickled on. The summer had been harsh. Now, even the rains were late. It was accepted, though. Such was the life of a river here in these rugged and barren mountains.

"Why wont it snow here?", the river gave her practiced inward sigh, leaving not even a faint ripple on the surface, "It would be lovely then - water all year, no parched fields ..."

"Don't you remember that night?", the bridge beamed.

"No! ... What? ... Who?", the flustered river snaps out of her dream.

"Do you remember them? Our first couple! ... The first kiss?!"

"Oh, that? ... I think you mean your first couple. I've had a few before you came along." Evidently, the river was a bit angry at the interruption.

"All right lady! ... My first couple! Do you remember them?"

"Yea I do ... What about them?"

"Oh, they were lovely! weren't they? The way they walked on to my middle: hand-in-hand, coy eyes filled with love. And then they sat on my ledge, looking at the beautiful moon! They were speaking. Softly; so softly that even I couldn't hear them"

"You had nothing better to do?", the river interrupts.

"Look! I think the man proposed the woman that night! Or maybe promised something. Whatever it was, it made the woman very happy. And I love happiness! ... Don't you?!"

"Go on ..."

"And then, after a moment they kissed! Oh, it was lovely! Two people happily in love! I was honoured to witness it. I really was! The moon then seemed to shine brighter ... Oh so beautiful!"

"Ahem", the river contemplated for a moment before retorting, "Then please tell me who threw the ring?"

"Huh?! .. What ring?"

"Well, after the kiss, as they were leaving, one of them threw a ring on me. Who was it? You must have seen it right? It was your brightest night ..."

"No way ... You are making it up!" The bridge shuddered and turned away to gaze at the moon again.

"The people do strange things ... He should learn before its too late ...", the wise river contemplated and quietly trickled on; her banks holding the bridge firm. She would not let go ...

-x-x-x

© Parched For Rain
Blog Contents

Crumbling Birdsong Of Brick And Mortar

Crumbling Birdsong Of Brick And Mortar

The Birdsong crumbles
Said the old woman
Of the weary place
Pointing her finger
In wrinkled circles
Of practiced grace

The Birdsong crumbles
Said the old woman
By the creaking pane
Memories of trance
Her dance once held
Now, arthritic wane

The Birdsong crumbles
Said the old woman
Its velvet plaster-skin
Cracked and parched
Awaited was the time
And return of kin

The Birdsong crumbles
Said the old woman
Windows where bloomed
Amorous rose a many
Stare now a forlorn mile
A love long gloomed

The Birdsong crumbles
Said the old woman
Of mortar and brick
And will and life
Ends with it, another
Magician's last trick

The Birdsong crumbles
Said the old woman
Beckoning to her lap
I rest my head, adrift
And as the dust settled
A bird ceased its flap

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain
Blog Contents

An Untethered Spirit

An Untethered Spirit

I had a spirit in me once

Effervescent, volatile

Streaming its course

On sprightly, agile nerves

Itself it spent, tethered

To lowly designs

Engineered not by fate

Nor me, in conscious

The lure of comfort

And the involuntary

My fading impulse too

All symptoms of a rot

This lust for a plateau

And old, efficient processes

Strangles my spirit

And my pursuit of new

Where does one go now

If the shackles were to fall?

Are not the flights of spirit

Life's fallacies and fantasies?

Back then when I lived

Seeked never an answer such

For in the day I soared

And nights I dreamt

I shall ask not again, to where?

Fate deserves a mad march hare

Beyond the sky let me soar again

Saddled to my spirit's flight

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

A Walk On A Still Night

A Walk On A Still Night

Its not raining tonight

That's a respite

If any can be such

From the incessant pitter

And patter that keeps time

Yet the hour passes tonight

A stealthy assassin

If any can be such

Of all that can be living

And a creator of the new

The still moment of tonight

Of heavy air

If any can be such

Laden it is with dark despair

And a strobe of hope

Through this I walk tonight

A late or early hour

If any can be such

Matters not, for is life ever still?

And neither am I

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Other Late Night Escapades @ Parched For Rain:

Kerb || Summer Night || Tonight || The Night Sheep's Wool

Time Can't Fly

Time Can't Fly

I reset the time glass
And stare at its neck
At each speck of sand
That drifts through
But then floats
Held in my gaze
Till I place it gently

At its rightful place 

  

There are millions more 

And each wait its turn 

I'm their keeper 

They drift for me 

I know no rest 

Nor day or night 

As I place these specks 

And keep time ticking 

As the last one is laid

Resting in its place 

I know its time 

To end the wait

I can sense her here 

I lift my gaze

A brightened flash

A burning pain

A wait lasts a minute

To lay my eyes on her

But now at its time

All I see is a void

And amidst it all I see

A lost, lonely speck

The last, I'd missed

My waiting minute renews

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Little Steam Of Jibhi

Little Stream Of Jibhi

Wash me away
Little stream of Jibhi

Drown my best memories
In your shallow bed of stone
Drown out the little voices
Amid your chaste, steady drone
Oh! Little stream of Jibhi

Wash me away

Colours of a thousand dyes
Thus world has painted ayes
Wash them away

Layers of mud, clay and dirt
Afflicted as medicines hurt

Wash them away

Parts of me, I never wish found
Inconsequent, my soul's sound
Wash them away

Wash me away
Little stream of Jibhi
Take me in your waters
To your banks of cedar and pine
Take me out of myself
And bring back whats left of mine

Oh! Little stream of Jibhi

Wash me away

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Verses From The Road @ Parched For Rain

At Crossroads || After The Prophet || Escape || The Eternal Wanderer - Homecoming || Paths Of Men || Roadsong Lullaby 

Standing Still

Standing Still

Let me stand still today
Not like those tempting times
That I've rushed by my side
Done much of the same
Over and over again

Let me stand still today
The rolling stone in the bowl
Mossed and taken to a rot
Confined in its run
Over and over again

Let me stand still today
In a ten thousand souled river
As they brush by my hide
Take me in their rush
Over and over again

Let me stand still today
Its something new that I do
Over and over again

-x-x-x-

Other Instances of Life Lessons @ Parched For Rain

Agora - Phobia || Solo Celebrations 

I Heard Nothing

I Heard Nothing

A stream of pictures
Still, captured moments
Drifting by
Somewhere

My bed is the lawn
Softly jagged, cropped
I drift away
To dreamland

The pictures
They are talking here
I see you
Living through everything
Calling out
To me, like you always did
But I heard nothing

A tear leaves my eye
The last, ever
Trickles away
Salt-water

It’s been a while now
What were the last words?
What was it you meant?
I heard nothing

I read what you wrote
Yesterday, then today again
I read it like I do, of you
I heard nothing

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Summer Night

Summer Night

Oh summer night
Walk me home
Dodge'em shuttle-cocks
Keep to the shadows
Under the tamarind
And behind the dark side 

Of the lamppost hide me 

In the cool, tonight
Weary, the kids are 
Blurry 'n badminton bright
To my senseless eyes
With a day's hunger
And a weekly payload
Dead 'n alive 'n old

I, a victor today
Sapped of all joy, why?
My yesterdays disguise
As my tomorrows, why?
Answers await in bed
After this last mile, I
Walk on home, tonight

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Other Late Night Escapades @ Parched For Rain:

Kerb || A Walk On A Still Night || Tonight || The Night Sheep's Wool

Roadsong Lullaby

Roadsong Lullaby

I ...

A love child of the engine drone
And a dull groan
Of the one-eyed trombone
That says move on

I'm one of the road
One of the old
Tales forgotten cold
Oh hold

Clutch me to your chest
That tender nest
Love, lust, do what ever I must

Time turns to dust

Oh I ...
Am one of the road
One ...
Of the one road

I'm one
Moving as the road
I ...
Am one of the road ...

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Verses From The Road @ Parched For Rain

At Crossroads || After The Prophet || Escape || The Eternal Wanderer - Homecoming || Little Stream Of Jibhi || Paths Of Men

Paths Of Men

The Paths Of Men

The paths of men are seldom lonely
Like a river seldom still
There's always someone
Who has lost his way
Chosen to guide the rest
So that one may learn from him

And he may as well learn
To set right his wrongs

And then there are those
Monuments and milestones
Whose torches show their frowns
But nothing of the paths
These are the dead people
The paths justly bury them
Slowly, only to be trampled
For the paths of men are seldom lonely

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

Verses From The Road @ Parched For Rain

At Crossroads || After The Prophet || Escape || The Eternal Wanderer - Homecoming || Little Stream Of Jibhi || Roadsong Lullaby