Come to me

A silent night goes by,
The Burning heart is still now,
As it longs for a womans warmth,
It battles against the approaching dawn.

To love the radiant straws of hair,
that pelts down from your temple golden.
I would betray my very core,
To love you once, my beautiful Holden.

Your smile is like an ocean of pearls,
your dimples like the crescent of the moon,
Dont leave me this moment goddess,
this moment that has come too soon.

Your lust has driven me beyond the sane,
It has made my days, years.
Struggling to find my own shadow,
There are only some bitter tears.

As i roam the land,
searching for hope, searching you
I see that all there is, is love.
Love, for it is the most precious tune
that the Almighty had ever composed.
Tune that I have sang earnestly,
and relentlessly, endlessly.
Tired have I become now,
trudging through the barrens,
yearning for your courtship,
come to me now my love,
Come to me now.

The Urban(n)er and the simpleto(w)n

Leaving my hometown was a struggle. I left it long back when I was still a kid. I was, rather my family was,lured by the lights of the big city. We found work there. We found society there. We found money there. But the question was, what did we loose? As any ordinary urban dweller will tell you, living in a city can be a tolerable experience. Living in a town is still rather a vision. We urban dwelllers think very little about of our small town cousins. But is it really our fault that the breadth of our imagination almost fails to capture the beauty and serenity of a village or a town life.

First and foremost most towns in a developing country are beset by problems of their own chief being the connectivity from the town-centers to the urban-center. I have observed an interesting difference amongs the western towns and their native counterparts. First and foremost is the planning that has gone into even the most raucous of western towns, right upto the smallest detail is phenomenal. The hospitals, the gyms, the clubhouses, the golf-courses are all there where they are supposed to be. It is a lifestyle statement living in a town in the west.

Whereas we are almost distinctly hounded by population, pollution, corruption and so many other 'tions' that I am afraid to count. SO what am I saying? Why I'm repeating oft repeated connotations. Well, partly because there is an ever increasing desire to watch rational unfold in an ever irrational world. We want to improve ourselves and the collective always. That is our nature. Some States have already achieved that and in style while others are still playing the catchup game. But improving the infrastructure in the entire country is more important than concentrating all infrastructure and developing activities across a few city centers. We risk alienating our small town cousins and that is not an acceptable. We need to forge ahead with a all-round development programme rather than scattered and concentrated growth patterns.

Last time when I went to visit my native town, I saw there were two new cyber-cafes, a fully equipped transport station, some new mini-malls where the nearby village-folks were out shopping clearly dazzeled by the array of goods up for sale. Also it made me realise that the native growth story is percolating down to the most basic strata of the chain. Whether this will be a good or a bad development only time will tell, but yes, I do want my town to retain its aura of a peaceful abode of few foolworthy simpleto(w)ns. :)

vergassen mir!...

here you go...I forgot to affix the pic :( ;)

The Explosion!..

Watch out for Nature's own mini-nuclear explosion.

theStormrageBakr

Storm Over The Horizon....(Original work)

There rages a storm over the horizon,
A storm which takes the sea apart,
So violent that it daunts the soul,
So angry is it's voice, so cold
Hits the rock like a thousand demons would.

My father sings to me the disneyland lullaby,
but my heart is afraid,
Afraid of the cracking thunder
that rips the sky asunder.
Afraid it is of the fury
that is unleashed from the heavens
upon me and my brethrens.

My soul is like an incorrigible man,
It hopes against hope
that the storm would pass away.
It would not burn the trees,
wont harm the thatched roofs,
wont bring the grim reaper to my bay.

Alas but heavens had other plans,
the dance of death
it did dance.
Burned my village, all my brethren killed.
My father lying by the pool,
with my brother in his arms.
Alas but they donot breathe
for the water in their lungs.
Hopeless i watched from the perch,
As my village was swept away
By the terrible storm,
That raged over the horizon that day.