It’s like a dream, an aura
Jelly and diamonds,
The smell of a burger
Angels abound, and so do the stars
They wait, and they keep waiting
But the music is broken into silence
And in it, exists I.
It’s like a dream, an aura
Jelly and diamonds,
The smell of a burger
Angels abound, and so do the stars
They wait, and they keep waiting
But the music is broken into silence
And in it, exists I.
Dear Pondy,
I grew up with you. You held valuable treasures that I still unearth, to this day. Your many sights, your numerous tastes, and your inclusive vibe drew me towards you, like no one else did.
Chérie, I’m coming home.
You’ve got your dreams and your zeals,
Your adorations and infatuations,
And things you’ve got to do,
Just for their sake;
But is that all you crave,
Is that all you want –
Do you not put your heart out on the line,
And perhaps enjoy a little bit of mellow,
A little bit of tenderness,
In the form of a human
Do you not crave a shared joy,
Or perhaps a fulfilling contentment,
In the arms of a lover
Do you not, for once, look in front of you,
And think about the possibilities,
Of what could be –
Or is it just the things you’ve got to do,
Just for their own sake.
As I type this, I am aware of my breathing. I am aware of the sensation of my fingers on the keypad, of the aftertaste of bitter coffee inside my mouth. I am aware of the shade that a friend threw at me and how that made me feel. I am aware of my anxiety for my date tomorrow. I am aware that these things are not me, and that my thoughts and feelings are not me.
I’ve consciously made it a point to not let these get to me , to the core of my being. I’ve learnt to differentiate my thoughts and feelings from myself. I’ve learnt that it is an imagined reality, after all.
“Keep at it”, they said.
“You’ll get somewhere”, they said.
As thoughts and feelings began to take over,
It was as if someone had just hit Restart.
To not second-guess myself,
To let things go
To allow myself love,
To articulate and to connect
Living with myself,
Taking care of me.
I take it for granted—I know I’m in for a ride. I know I have nothing to worry about. I know I can just glide along. I know I can push it to its limits.
I am not repelled by its bright color; on the contrary, it sets the mood for the journey. Yes, journey. A unhurried, unfazed journey. For all the odd traffic that the Pondy streets can throw at it. For all those odd jaywalkers. For all those not-so-odd bumps in the road. ‘Cause all it does is a-cruise.
Pondy and the BSA Street Rider. Think Old Monk and Coke. Think jeans and sneakers. Think music and lyrics.
To not give in to emotions,
To not get carried away,
The heart strings tug away,
And I can’t help but melt.
A ceaseless ringing,
Fades away,
When the author picks up his pen –
Short-lived, his solace.