The Solitary Reaper

I like to fight my own battles
I make my own shield, my own spear
Watch the wolves go down with a howl
Pump the fists, and grunt a victorious growl.

The lone ranger appeals to one and all,
In the middle of the desert - oh yeah, he stands tall.
Share thy spoils with none,
Let not a soul get a bite of the fun.

I've come a long way out
From the maddening crowds to the deafening silence
In the cacophony of the many shrieks and whispers,
Each throat must have its own clout.
(I'm still tipsy in search for that balance)

I set the finish line, and lap it up
Sometimes with ease, sometimes I displease
Even when the chequered flag goes down
I'm looking for shades beyond the black and the white.

When I talk to you on the radio
Listening for how to make it across that chicane
I have my sights on the straights ahead
That will race me back to the start
There's always a new game to be fought.

I look the sun in its eye
Roll over in glory, my face glowing red
But when the champagne dries up,
And the tifosi have gone to bed
I won't remember the thrills of the street
Nay, the blurs won't even find their feet.

I'll romp back home and toss the silverware
Overlook the plaques, the medals and the new bullet
Set the candles on a table for two
Until I realize - "there is no spoon".

When I turn the static off the radio
When I clap for the robe that nonchalantly flutters
When I won't have to stare long enough to discern,
Will I see beyond the glistened mirror
And watch you smiling back at me.
Its only then, my dear - I will miss you.

Too many coincidences

Fred Meyers.
FirstTech Credit Union.
Mayuri Indian Store.
Streets marked as NW, SE, and the likes.
10 miles from a major city.
Tech-giant Company.

Too many coincidences, huh?

Smile on the Face

How hard is it to put a smile on that face?
To sneak past the weariness
To unload the heaviness that drags back
To wipe out the slate and start afresh?

A shake of the berry glasses,
Shaken but not stirred
A sweet tooth and a sweet tongue,
Sweeter than the voices heard
On the other side of the ring

A clock that spins fast,
A snooze that comes good at last
Stretching and pondering in the warmths
Shirking off is believing.

Desserts of passion that I wait to feast
Imagining the clinks of the forks
The tresses that waved back
Now set with the sun on the eastern sky

Equations of desire
Or inequalities of the minds?
The thought deepens as the thread goes blank
Until it throbs for the smile of the years gone past

How easy was it to put a smile on that face?
How easy was it to fall from grace?
I saw it sinking, but still reconcile
What if the water was shallower?

Funny how easy it is to put a smile on that face
Steal those moments from the quarry of the reminiscent
Sniggers and giggles that still laugh with me
Etch those lines out on the sides of my eyes
Dig deep until they draw out the pearls
Pearls of wisdom I have for me
Their shine no one can take away from me.

Streaks of vanity pep it up
As I become Alexander of the Autobahn
When the smile dawns upon me
I become united with one.
I am the one.

A Rolling Stone

Wide asleep or deep awake,
I wander through the seas.
Right or wrong, who's to judge?
But at least I am the master of my will.

I keep searching for the answer
Turning stones with restless unease
What am I meant to do here,
Can no one be pleased?

I could make my own rules
My own rulers, scales and yardsticks
But then if one size fit all,
There would be nothing to be achieved.

The stones I've all upturned,
But I can't move the rocks
And I dream of what would be underneath,
Do our dreams rule us, or is it the other way around?
Thats a question for another day...

Speaking of rocks and rock-faces,
I dreamt of a face once
Felt its serenity from close and far
Rock solid, it made me stay

On the rocks, I spent my days
Gazed deeper into the faces
Until the gazes turned into chisels
Drilling out the dust and the ashes

Rain or shine, the rock kept still
I wanted to leave, but the rock had a free will
Freedom is overhyped,
Freedom can kill
Free will - who can debate thee?
But I'd rather be chained, than cease to be

And then I stumbled upon the grass
That bent with the flow, yet held its head high
Down in its apparently shallow roots,
I found my presence still lurking
Beckoning me back

I want to turn around and roll in the plains
Feel the mud in my feet, and the moist breeze on my cheek
But I must roll ahead,
For a rolling stone gathers no moss.

I don't want to slip on the moss again.

Job vs. Grad School

Job-life is like a freeway, where speed = money. Its easy to fall asleep, yet, the money will keep flowing. Life gets exciting only when you change lanes.

Grad-life is like a Formula-1 race. There will be long straights where you drive flat out and stress your engine to its limit. There will also be some tight corners and chicanery chicanes. The acceleration and deceleration can be as high as 4G. What you want to do is see the chequered flag, and and avoid DNFs. You can end up a couple of laps down, but if you drove some fastest laps, you will cherish them all life.

PS: Special thanks to Sriram for the inspiration.