Color

From Crayons to water color cakes
From Spice racks to eyeshadows
From flowers to Birds
From visions to words -
Color colors my every little wish
To express my inmost desires
Be it to create or just admire
The numerous shades that beautify
Every virtual lane my thoughts tread.
Am I just trying to give it in black and white
As to what color means?

Clusters.

Verses like misfortunes
Come in clusters.
Dangling half baked, half formed visions
Enticing me to capture their essence
Devour their presence.
Bunches of sceneries
Of music like words
Dancing like agile ballerinas
Play hide and seek
Disappearing the moment
My senses grapple to have a clear look.
Clusters of thoughts, Bunches of them
Dangle above me.
Sometimes I just give up
Capturing them in verbal strokes
On my mind's canvas
Convincing myself
That they are way too sour
To justify the effort:-)

Forgotten.

Last night
An image flashed
Admist the ambiguity of semi-conscious sleep.
I wrote down a verse
An eloquent one
Almost typed it
Blogged it
And felt accomplished.
Why does it not flash again?

Some things take for ever:-)

Does it not happen to you sometimes? You seem to be stuck with something and it never gets done. The "work in progress" sign hangs way too long that it gets dull, jaded, tarnished and sometime the sign itself is obliterated form memory - The figurative sign that is. Happens to me all the time. The day I started painting Winnie the pooh and friends on the walls of our then formal dining space to make it our now Aarti's play space, I was all charged and possessed to complete it - like a woman on a mission. I did it too...except for the fine detail edging that was supposed to painted in the cranny where the wall starts and the foot board ends. No one notices it as incomplete. But to my own perfectionist eye, that is the first thing I notice every time I look at the painting. Yeah, my first of the infinite entries on the forever list.
I have a friend from my growing years. A very special, landmark friend of my life. He moved out of the place we grew up in. He comes and visits my parents every time he's in town. He makes sure that I am updated about the new kids on the block and all that progress his life is making. Ever since I had Aarti I wanted to trace him down and send him a picture of my lil angel. Sarat has his number stored in Sarat's cell. It takes me forever to make that call that can re bridge the gap between me and my best friend.
I have this smashing new idea of making my portfolio for my dream job. I have the details planned out meticulously in my minds eye. Ever night after I lie down in an attempt to sleep, I create - painstakingly, carefully - my portfolio. A sure shot gateway to my dream career. I know - but, it never gets done making my own intentions of getting in my dream career questionable. May be I am way to cozy in my 'homemaker' shoes and never want to work. Why don't I darn well admit that???
I never get charged enough to lose those 10 crucial pounds that would make me fit into half of my existing wardrobe without getting conscious about the spill of fat that would bulge and make me look like 'work in early progress' to make Aarti a big sister. Every time someone takes a second glance at my tummy even just like that, I announce that it is just long piled up baby fat and not really a baby. LOL.
Right now, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle is taking for ever. Aarti goes to bed and I could comfortably slip into my luxury threadsheet laiden down comforter and get at reading the book. I don't. Instead I get trapped in the world wide web and browse ebay, samachar.com, delphi forums or the good ole Orkut jumping from profile to profile to find Kiranmai, my long lost childhood friend. Edgar Sawtelle is here to keep me company for ever - it looks like at least for now.
Why do somethings take for ever? Because we blame it on our mood? Because we are not motivated enough? Because we don't want to do them?
Somethings take for ever if we let them.