This was written when I was about  to leave HCL.For my two friends,who made known to me joys of friendship.I could not publish it then,because I wanted to put as much life into it as there was in our friendship,as much joy,emotions,feelings -that I have felt during our friendship and towards the end of times we spent together.But the, our friendship is larger than life.I can never do enough justice to it.So here it is in its original form.This one is for you-Anand and Sid - for you are missed - for you'll remain my most cherishable friends-and times spent with you- most cherishable

For you, my friend,
I'll love memories like never before.
I'll hold onto past as I'll beam in future
I'll moist my eyes  when I'll laugh out loud.
I'll be lost in thoughts
when someone will crack a familiar joke
I'll tell God wherever I go,
I wish you were here to make my joy true
And I'll live these laughters , crackles and smiles,
as I'll go to sleep every night.

How I call you instinctly,
when I have something exciting to tell
and how would I confess my secrets
and my fears
when I feel alone
I'll remember those sweet naughty names
that bear the stamp of our friendship.
And I'll remember how would we gossip
endlessly day and night
I'll remember while walking on roads,
how we kept pushing each other
and shove each other and then pick up a fight
I'll remember how you looked left at a girl
and I spotted a guy in the right

I'll remember the rains,the walks, and teas,
my crazy wishes you will fulfil

I ll remember you-in the name of friendship

Like a diligent spider, it is in our natural instinct to weave a gossamer –of relationships, but being human, we get caught in them, embroiled in them. But we still don't want to get rid of them, for we won't have any place to return to, if they are gone. We'll be homeless. We seek them all our lives-shedding old ones, forming new ones, according to our own convenience, joy and inclination of heart. But rarely do we experience that eluding eternal bliss in them.Do we? And then , we keep seeking answers.

No matter how many times I read,but every time, I read them-Ruskin's poems I mean,I feel I am standing under a waterfall.

One of my most favorites :

Dare to dream

Build castles in air,
but first,give them foundations.
Hold fast to all your dreams,
Make perfect your creations.

All glory come to those who dare.

Failed works are sad lame things.
Act impeccably,sing
Your own song, but do not take
Another's song from him or her
Look for your art within,
You'll find your own true gift,
For you are special too.
And if you try,you'll find
there's nothing you can't do.

While I was looking for "The tale of the Rose" at a bookstore,I stumbled across this "fairy stencil book",Yes,stencils to draw fairies.And I have been given my childhood back.Colors,fairies,butterflies,flowers,beautiful papers-it miught be a dreamland.

"Never look back;remember that in the most wonderful legends,the person who looks back is always changed into a statue made of stone or salt".

-Major who wants to marry Consuelo-a distraught wife of Antonio at this point of time

"You will forget me",said the Captain,"as all my passengers have forgotten me.That's as it should be.I've loved them all,all the women who stayed close to me for an entire voyage,lying on the same deck chair,full of drama of their lives,full of their fear of dying.They were all as beautiful and as fragile as my boat's journeys or the life of flowers and butterflies,that live only a day,like the glass of champagne you're holding in your hand that will soon be empty but will live on in the bright glow of your eyes.And always the memory riveted to this skull here"-and he touched his head - "to this skull that ,even now,when it's virtually a skeleton's skull,keeps its taste for these fragile journeys,these fleeting lives,the froth of champagne,the glow in your eyes.All of these things are lights- it's light itself that counts,it's light that creates,light alone,bright light"

"Little girl,I love you as I love the stars,as I love my memories.When you are far away and you have forgotten this journey,please do me the honor of remembering this night,when I wished I were God so as to stop your tears".

"Sorrow is full of mystery"

-Captain of the Ship taking  Consuelo back to her homeland

"Give me your handkerchief so I can write the next part of the The Little Prince on it.At the end of the story,the Little Prince will give his hadkerchief to the Princess.You'll never again be a rose with thorns,you'll be a dream Princess who always waits for the Little Prince."

-Antonio to Consuelo

"And you promised that if you didn't come back,the river would whisper to me about the strength of your kiss - and about you,about us"

-Consuelo to Antonio

Consuelo writes beautiful.The extracts belong to the book "The tale of the Rose", the Rose -Little Prince loved.
The love of Consuelo and Antonio,the Little Prince and the Rose, is best summarized by Antonio in The Little Prince -where Litlle Prince describes his Rose as - the flower, he cannot live with and cannot live without.
A passionate love-fraught with uncertainities,pain,longing,separation,re-association and the joy,broken hearts and wait ,how the love of a writer is as strong as his passion and as uncertain as life.How he keeps going and coming back.
Only the heart of a writer and the love of a woman can understand,what bond kept them coming together agin and again.

Something in my chest,
has been put to rest

Something in my breath,
goes out and comes in relaxed

Something in my gaze
has lost its haze

Something in my thoughts
is no more lost

Something in my dreams
now lets me comfortably sleep

Something in my days,
has stopped useless chase

Something in my face
now shows love's grace

Something in my smile
is gentle and light

Something in my eyes,
dances like fireflies

Something in my laughter
has sought,what it was after

Something in me,
feels absolute free

Something in everything
reminds me of you -My wings

My life continues to surprise me.

A one- day trip to Ajmer and Pushkar was an eye opener.Visited an India , unknown to me ,atleast till now.

I miss writing.But when there is so much to converse with life,it's hard to keep a  record.But some part of me wants to write,inspite of everything.Because I love memories.Memories of good times - to relive how worth it life is, and memories of bad times- to be happy in the fact that they are gone, to smile to think of the times when I stood tough, to laugh at times when I could not and to moisten my eyes to think of the times, when I chose to kneel.And writing is just a refusal to let go these memories.What I write forms a milestone in my life.Or I should say,a  milestone forms a post that I write.

And as I write, I keep my eyes set on an exploration, on how beautiful this life could be.

<Part 1>

It's an urge

that makes me write

a face in my dreams,

shining bright,

Memories of past

gone long ago

yesterday it seems,to me,

as I prepare to go

A hand pulls  me back,

as I take a stride

what was that he said

nothing,it was all in eyes

And why do I remember

it was a Friday

when we looked

into each other's eyes

and no questions were left

no answers to justify

no pain to feel

needed no air to breathe
as the night
passed away in sighs

and as I think now,

what was it

a God's trick

so close you came

and left silently,

makes me remember

a poem from a friend..

"was it really you or

just a wind passing by"

<Part 2>

Now
I stand at crossroads

and a different road
I want to go

but I look back
again and again

for shadows
I love chasing though

one step forward

 and two steps behind,

no matter where I go,

the one who loses is I

the answer has left

now who tells
the truth from a lie

and  what do I do

ignore the questions
or chase the answers
for the rest of my life

things you never said,

make me wonder

at times,

what did I hear

"was it really you
or just a wind passing by"

<Part 3>

Where do I go from here

which path do I take

does this
really bother me

or are these
mere questions I fake

will life solve questions
on its own

 it will chaoticly move,
as it does

or do I shut my ears
and ignore

the longing of my heart,
for you, it does,

or do I stride ahead
and take a leap

on this unknown path ,
I lose myself,

leave the world behind
and soak myself in love

what bothers me,
what stops me,

what is the thing
I cannot sense

I shut my eyes and tell myself

wake up from this slumber

 it 's a fantasy you chase

and I think and think

and can only remember
these lines of a friend,

"Was it really you
or just a wind passing by"