Hello darkness, my old friend...

Songs... theyre words strung together in groups...notes- bunched together jumping up and down in different combinations and times- highs and lows...loud, soft, suttle, distinct even harsh at times.

These sets of letters have power. Power to bring back memories of lost times and friends, to make one introspect, feel, emote, confuse, question...

Its funny, but music has always been a part of my life. Like the long lost friend, not always seen, hardly remembered, but there, standing by, as if in the wings, ready for the big debut or rather Act 2.

Its been there, around, and i've heard it subconciously. Each phase of life , relflected by some thing i heard at that point. Acting as reminders good and bad of times gone and sometimes better forgotten. Like post-it's attached to the diary inside, ready references to times i feel like visting again and again.

I remember 'Sound of Music' distinctly. The first time i saw it. Julie andrews and the 'Vontrap' family. How i tried to match the "do re me" to "sa re ga ma"... The " white paper packages tied up in strings"... they actually were one of my favorite things.
Mary Poppins happened around the same time. I watched it over and over. From the two kids ending the nanny advertisment recitation with an emphatic "James and Micheal Banks" nod to the "Chimmeney chimmeney chim chim churoo" sequence, i loved it all.

And yes, "SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS" was never intended to be a 'real' word.

Taste's change with age.time. College. Engineering, not really a cake walk. Confusion, frustration, late nights, Pink Floyd, Doors its all just a purple haze now.

I never did mind hindi music. i listened to it, some what secretely, sometime's unknowingly. Swades, DCH. Monsoon Wedding was my favourite though. 'Kawa Kawa' was emotional. First year, few months in to college, rain,high tempers.Delhi. It all just seems stupid now.

Work was a little different. Fun. Not that SAP was anything i liked, but sometime's the freedom of earning your- own-bread just overshadowed it. Booze. Lots of it. "Drop the pressure". The endless evenings spent drunk in BnC.
Gaurav's Alto. Like our royal steed. served us till the end. Broken oil tanks.Ganster."Ya ali", though largely due to Puneet's continous insistence. And the fact that he did always sit in the front. Not to forget his 6 1/2 feet frame. "Ya ali" it was.No questions asked.

Bam.
The bubble burst.

Back to Delhi. Advertising. endless hours. ideas.concepts.communicate.
The first whiff of purity. The first step.the first ray.Enter Don Mclean. "Starry starry night". "Castles in the air".

Potraits hung in empty halls. Aimless heads on frameless walls.
Partners waltz, devoid of all romance. the music plays. everyone must dance...So be it.

Paul Simon.Art Garfunkel. a Dynamic Duo."Sounds of silence", "The Dangling Conversation", the superficial sighs.

the borders of my life.

I sit here now,comfortable, listening to the accoustic version of "Classical gas" , still wondering, still dreaming, still reminicing...

I'd better make a note of it.

Whats the deal?

what next?...i really dont know anymore. Its a question i just cant seem to answer. Ive tried. to really realise my true potential. tried my hands at things and fantasies. Dreamt longer and stronger than most men have really. Have visualised future, applause and recognition.

But sometimes it just seems too distant. Hope like waves , crashing against the walls of uncertainty and society, rising every morning, but dying soon within. The evening tide, the shattered rocks, the broken dream, the sand empty, as if waiting for someone to come and carve their name on it.

waiting to be moulded into something new. A castle maybe, or perhaps a umbrella. An umbrella sheltering me from the horid rain. Rain of onlooker's, questing my very existince. scorning at my decisions.

But is it all worth it?.. Is it worth the dream i hold. The passion-m or something like it. These compromises I need to make still. The trade off's . the constant pain at the back of the head. Like a nagging mother or a hopeless wife.

Sometimes one fears. Fear of diving too deep. Of swimming too far out into the ocean. A point of no return. Bermuda triangle. I love the beach. Pina Colada. The peace and quiet. The vastness and spirit. Ive hust seen it in the movies but it makes me wanna go there.

There is a place i love to go. A place where i can rest. where my mind switches off. My feet relax. Blood circulates. Flight. Soar. high above the ocean, the cities and the people. I always have one place. Alone at last. Me and my thoughts. Buddy's. Best friends for life.

Life. hah. A game of ping pong at best. A little joy, then some pain.Like a recepie thats no complete without either. A layer of sorrow, topped with some fun. a dash of emotions, sprinkled with some love. An icing of frustration and a cherry of hope.

Hope. Just the four letters. A bigger impact. Hope. like a lifesaving drug. Injected into my useless, listless life. Helps me dream.Think.Believe.

Belief. Simmilar to hope. but different aswell. Its inside. hope is distant. As if borrowed from someone. Shared with others. Hope to achieve. Hope to see. It shows my lack of confidence. Belief is my own.Conviction. A stamp of my abilities. A way of living. A way forward.

Forward is the only way. The only road. The path i see. I feel. I know. This is what ive chosen. Ive pressed the pedal. I wanna roll...