create

you, the source of delight, my friends, are that voice which never ceases, which always rain over me, never letting me be absorbed in dryness.It needs great strength to turn my faces from you, to look at anything else, a book or any other work of art.When you live here, walking the dream holding your precious love in bright eyes, it's always you my near human harts that i reads.
when do i read the print?
not when my mind is loaded, noisy.
I talk to the print more than listen.
i never let it say anything.
All the efforts these days are put in making it possible to listen to letters.
So much lonely a place in heart is needed for that
I'm searching for that inner space where i never meet you all.
And not just to be there, but to enjoy,
never be suffocating.
just another for of creativity.

The privacy of a place,where your parents don't follow your words.where your senses cheat you to fall into nonsense at every turn.where you achieve ultimate misunderstandings more than what you gain in cities. Mastering the privacy in an alien City is different You don't achieve it till you know that your attempts to master the city language works.till you realise you, now, know the routes... the signs, the symbols.

to reshma, sudeep and ramlath

Where did I stop brooding over others?
Planning words with care ...
spending time not to hurt?
Now stare at me!
Stories dances
it bleeds and violates.
U fall
n I fall in it too,
with what language wud
I tell u that they r false
creations of truths.
one of the truths
when it is highlighted..
i can call it false and can join you
but still i love you.