Weary Travails

From the time the Sun creeps up stealthily into the clear sky, to the time when the sky is splashed with a bucket of ink dotted with white stars, I continue a search, an exploration speaking scientifically, a foray into a new patch of Earth every day. Come, take a little walk with me, as I stroll past alien lands. I don't tire easy, I'm a fighter they tell me. Its never easy, never was, coz the weather doesn't stay fair for too long. I usually take shelter under the leaking tin roof in the country side. Keeps me sheltered, despite the soft pattering of rain on me which ceases fire by the morning. I like the songs of the trees. They are the same everywhere. I like the colorful masses of people. Unless I'm seeking refuge, they appear like little children going round and round on a giant Ferris wheel. They don't stop. Almost ever.
Sometimes people look at me for a while longer. They seem to search for something. My weary feet carry me faster. But then, everyone seems to be searching for something.
I pick a dust laden book sometimes. I like you. You are a shade better than the over cast sky. You're a book. In you I travel miles more than my weary, two feet could actually every carry me.
Ahead lies the zenith. Or is it. Yet another adventure. It could be nippy or for all I know I could be braving the Sun. Another silent treatment? Or will the woods speak to me? A parallel world?
It could be the black or the white or the yellow. I don't think I even want to know.
All I want is an all-absorbing land. A trajectory which connects the roots. Of the black, the white, the yellow. My roots.
All I want is the stretch of pan-existence which will let me taste the two spoons of sugar I add to my tea.

The epiphany

I saw it, it didn't have to be,
Far and wide beyond the sea,
I saw what I think I saw,
Sprawled across the black and white sea.
As blood rushes to my head,
As vision blurs around the bend,
The mind plays a trick so illusionary,
That the world looks like a stream of red.
Atop the cliff I am and will be,
A tale so baneful behind what I see,
Hollows of my system saddle many such,
Percussion of the elements around me.
I see it, it has to be,
The realm of objectivity cloaks the sea,
The signs are expeditious in my line of vision,
I see what the world has come to be.

For the thinker in me

There's a place somewhere,
Far far away,
I do not see it, but I feel it in my bones,
I can picture it vividly,
There is a green and a yellow,
a white and a blue,
and some red too.
I see the colors on the horizon.
For it is nothing but a mesh of all the tones of life.
I wander around,
like a lost traveler in search of an oasis,
I don't know what I look for,
I don't know whats in store,
Yet I walk further,
Into the wild forests that lie ahead.
My spine tingles,
At the prospect of the adventure that lay ahead,
But when I see people walk past me briskly,
Its then that I stop to watch the towering trees brushing against the flamboyant stars.
I rest against a tree only to realise that the journey to the place unexplored had just begun.
There's water and there's fire,
Its inferno right before my eyes,
I can see the amber flame in the eyes of my soul,
As an afterthought, I sit and question its role.
The mist, heavy and dense
Is closing in from all ends,
Like the break of dawn which should have never come.
There are signs of life and there are signs of death,
There are signs of wine and there are signs of bread.
I see a flight of stairs at the end of the ordeal,
I see a lamp flickering at the corner I cannot foresee.
There is this place which I know houses all the dreams,
Its far far away yet not as unreachable as it seems.
I hear footsteps of humanity all around,
Its a pity they seem to be getting fainter.

Of crunchy Lettuce Leaf and echoing lyrics

I love Subway. Yes, the food joint. Testimony to the fact: I am capable of eating both my solid meals of the day at subway. It beats any food joint, any day of the week and twice on Sundays. If you're actually doubting the authenticity of this claim, then you have not experienced the delights of gastronomy. Pardon me if my bias towards vegetarian food is too much for you to handle, but can you really blame me for drooling at the thought of a sub with mayo and south west dripping from its either ends? That is not all Mister. There is the extremely vital ingredient for this magical staple. And no, I'm not talking about adding toad hair or cat toe nails to it. A great sub, preferably a veggie delight if you ask me, is incomplete without the Mighty Lettuce. Now I have not been the biggest fan of lettuce all my life, but it was one of the vegetables which would sneakily find its way into my food and I would never shower it with all my attention. But the gratitude has finally sunk in. We have a lot to be thankful for, Lettuce is quite high on that list of things. And if its lettuce dripping mint and mayo, it kicks ass of the plain-jane lettuce. The first bite is always the best. The crunch of the fresh green lettuce leaf mingling with the taste of the sauces. Its like the non-cosmological equivalent of the Big Bang. Diverse tastes flying in all corners of your mouth. And you can just close your eyes and let your taste buds do the tango.
On another thought, whats with Rihanna?
No seriously. First there was Umbrella. Where the Ella-ella-ella echoed so many times that it trojan horsed its way into your head and for a long time, thats all that played in my head. Finally, with how much ever trouble did I manage to wriggle myself out of this one(getting addicted to some other garrulous track by then of course). Along came Russian Roulette by R to upset my apple cart. Yes, I like throwing tantrums about a lot of trifling things in life. Why do all her lyrics end in the same way? The last word echoing a number of times till the last syllable! It is emphatic undeniably, but I really doubt that the idea behind her issuing an invitation (or a general offer as my Contracts teacher would call it) to stand under her umbrella was to draw attention to it.
That aside, "So just pull the trigger-trigger-trigger" *descending echo*
Later.