The Winner Stands Alone

This book came as a surprise for me rather. It stands out from the rest of the books he has written. Paulo Coelho, one of my very favourite authors! His books usually had a strong message, and the writing style was surreal. This instead was so deep rooted to reality and dealt with our dark angels. An Un-put-Downable one though.

This book leaves me confused and angry. Igor, the protagonist (I don’t know if he was good or bad) went to Canne’s film festival to win his wife back. She had left him two years back and was with another. He was man with principles and morals. He considered himself extremely capable of taking risks and tough decisions. Strangely, he also believed that god had vested in him the power and the responsibility to do any thing to get what he wants.

He wanted to send a message to Ewa, his wife. For that, he started killing innocent people. Each was a sacrifice in her name to make her realize how much he loved her. How serial killer psychology has been portrayed in this book, I found rather interesting. But, Ewa doesn’t want to come back.

Half way through, his mission changes. I don’t follow totally after this. The book ends with him killing her and her husband. What was the purpose of this mission of his? May be by killing so many, he understood himself better. But was the sacrifice worth it? I cannot digest that this man, who thinks he has the authority to take lives for what he believes is the greater good, can be sane or a good person.

May be, he wasn’t intended to be good, bad or ugly. May be he is just a character and thus, has a right to exist without conforming to any stereo-typed ideal. I don’t think I have an issue with the fact that the usual "good over evil" didn’t take place.

But, one person’s instability destroyed so many lives. Among the others who get killed are hard-working people with dreams and aspirations. They have worked night and day and taken enormous risks to reach where they were. May be they were on the brink of achieving everything they wanted to but did not. They lives ended without fulfillment. And there were many whose future depended in the hands of the people who just departed. And all the victims were related in some way or the other.

Is it really justifiable, what Igor propagates in that book?

Only one character apart from Igor realizes her destiny. But another innocent girl was left thinking that she has finally achieved it all, at the last page of the book. I can’t help thinking as if she was real, and in for a rude shock when her whole universe shall crash around her the next day.

The book also showed the trials and tribulations in the glamour world but that we have gotten to know through other books also. The superegos of the superclass have been well characterized too. Still, the way he weaves the plot interspersed with his characters, transports you inside the book, breathing with them.

An interesting thing I noted was that victims who died where equal in the sex ratio. I am sure it means something. The book was filled with booby traps of this world that entail to swallow us. On a philosophical plane, may be it did show us what life could be. Whatever I read in that book can be applied to many situations, many characters could all teach us about some of those traps on a surreal plane. As is a constant with Paulo Coelho’s books, it has many points through which we can enter the book and run away with our understanding and imagination. I like that. Each one gets his own picture, message.

But, how does the winner not stand alone? If Igor is the intended winner… are we getting a new understanding of the word alone? Is not the dark angel just a figment of Igor’s imagination so that he may remain guilt free? These doubts have not been cleared in the book. I don’t hate the book for it. I rather love the fact that these loose ends have remained.

I shall be thinking further on these lines and may be my understanding shall improve. The book has left me slightly angry. But my brain is active trying to understand something new. This hasn’t happened in a long time and I am more than pleased for the mental stimuli.

MARIA

Maria has really pretty eyes
Eyes which had laughed once,
Loved and healed me…
Now they contain madness…
Proud as they are, not yet anguish
Hurt, nor pain.
Yet mine do shine with loneliness.
She let her silver voice soothe me
Fill me as she allayed my fears;
Sing me into sweet sleep, with soft spells
Of her magic, love and care.
Now she sings of war ballads and
Death chants…not to me anymore.
I haven’t slept since.
She caresses her whispers
Right into my heart
Stirs my soul with her flirtatious presence,
Her witchcraft of possession, that being mine
Behold me endlessly on her soft bosom.
Crushed pine needles was her fragrance
And had I not inhaled deeply then
I would lay destroyed
To see her now
Ripped from my senses forever
She’s gone and I am left behind…
I haven’t breathed since
I can’t inhale her anymore.
Madness! How did I see madness
In her nonexistent empty eyes?
Death ballads yet don’t flow
From dead lips
Do I admit its me alone…
My identity was as much hers
And her eyes mine.
The world is hostile, alien in her absence
Tears are horrified to escape alone
No magic but confusion
May have caused death ballads
To beg release from my lips
It was her tongue though
As mine as much hers…still.
On the brink of insanity
She still came to me
Not by magic, in memory
Kisses me with peace
As I was told
“Your Maria lives in your soul
Not in her body…”
I laughed with tears falling finally
Unbidden and unafraid.
What she had often said and will forever
Till I need her, see her, remember her
Breathe her and love her…
Maria had made her magic prevail
And had coaxed me into sanity.

Whispers strong now rule my heart
Warm gusts of memories, peace
And Maria still possessive about me
I revel in her magic.
And she?
She lets me live.

I could say it is time to write
Time to pen down thoughts
If not virtue, not scandals
But myriad useless thoughts
That since had no moral, ethical,
Monetary value, have not been acknowledged yet.
………………………………………………………..

Days n Dreams

There is always a limit to stupidity element. People should learn from their mistakes…but I’m an idiot beyond limits.

I use all my free time to get distracted and day dream ignoring the work at hand….

And I couldn’t give my entries to this real prestigious photography competition today because it got closed the moment I started uploading my pictures.

And all this because I was extremely distracted through few days, dealing with teenage issues, and fucking up a lot of my time….

I have to get a grip…

SILENT RECOLLECTIONS

Beside silence I am sitting
Having a nice old chat
With the soothing queen…
It’s been a long time since
I had last conversed with my heart
To others deadened
I embrace silence.

……………………………..


The beautiful silent night
Absorbs my pain
I am set free
Of falsified morality
That bound my heart so
With untold sorrow.

But now I don’t talk…

……………………………………………


I once suffered silence
Now I enjoy it
And with its constant companionship
I have grown to know
That words always don’t show
What you feel
But silence with its invisible tongue
Never lies… as you read it to understand
Or listen really hard
Cause its purity cant be marred
With farce words of petty humour
So she never speaks.

……………………………………………..


I had my days of disbelief
My days of pain
When all was the want of words
To get it all out
But then I didn’t get a listening ear
And left alone some days
I suffocated to silence
But when I read into it folds
And my aching heart
Heard silent music
And I poured my heart out
Silent words of invisible tongue
And with my life silently saved.

…………………………………………..


Such is the gift of silence
To all who sway
Such is the gift of silence
To all whose mistress is sorrow
To all whose
Companions were words no more left
To all whose life now bare
Was adorned with lies of this petty world
To all living the tainted life
Of false painted faith…shattered in the slight wind of life…
To all who are marred with life
At a gently pained loss of words…
At gentle loss of faithful ears…
Lonely now so…

Silence comes…

………………………………….


I now talk to her
Lie on her bosom
She soothes me and plays with my thoughts
She doesn’t give false promises
Neither says she will keep close
And yet today I am satisfied
I know I will find her within
When I need to repose….

Truth of the silencing world…

NOSTALGIA

I still dwell
In the lush green fields
Where I hear the birds chirp
Where I remember myself in flight
Though long has past
I have not laughed
But echoes are by which I survive
Silence is more eerie.

I still hear my youth flowing
Like a young brook
So fast so ravening and growing to its height
And my speed unparalleled as I dream to conquer the world
Though unnoticed by the ocean
Still had held good to me.

I rejoice in the cotton balls of my memory
And speak of clear blue skies
I still rage and thunder
Though not to the outside
Like the past days when
Storms succumbed to my might.

And yet I dream of the lass
I kissed
Under the shy moonlight
Her beauty had made the night so shy
And her gaze had even quietened
My ravening restless life.
She had loved me
So pure
As I still do.

I am yet so terrified
As I had been as a little child
Of the thunderstorm that had split the sky
With the bolts of lightning……………
The same child within
Grew lonely again when lightning struck his life
She had left him unloved unfulfilled
And he is still terrified.



I am still the young sprite
I am still the man
Yet I am aged now
To the eyes of the world
To them I am a nostalgic fool
Caught in the turn of time
But I live my life
With past
With present
Beholding future
In my expressive eyes.
I live in all of them
Fill my time
With bitter sweet emotions
As time goes slowly
In my lonely life…………………………


………………………

EXPRESSION

I have seen him grow up
And always felt him to have expressive eyes.

As a kid fear filled those eyes
When he lost the sight of his mother
A stiff upper lip
A macho pride
Yet misted insecurity in those dark deep eyes.

Understanding glance
Of before age maturity
But a hidden under laying longing
Yet outlined his eyes……….
When he had worn the frayed clothes
Even through his birthday.

A bittersweet pain
Yet I could see in his smiling eyes
When his friends turned his back on them
On the surface mature
But with hurt sad innocent eyes
That told of pain just to me.

And the eyes
Glazed
When he saw his love
And the hurt when
The dejection
And a reflection of a broken heart
That swam to his yes
When he lost his first love.

The wild happiness
The tremendous emotions
When he finally found his life’s love
The contentment
All reflected in his mature eyes
So deep
Now
Eyes of a man.

And then the misted eyes
Of a father
Half closed in prayer
Thanking god for his love
As a silent tear trickled down those
Happy honest eyes.

And now triumph had shown in now and then
In those eyes
As had pain
With experiences of life
Bitter sweet
Yet leaving him all the richer.

And now
I saw only acceptance
And loneliness
As tears sparkled in those eyes
I knew he was terrified
I knew he was afraid
Yet life had taught him to shield some emotions
Finally from his eyes
Now misty
As things untold where hidden beyond.

He was alone
But I reached to those expressive eyes
And blew over each one of them
Till they cleared again and let me see
Once again into their depth
And the sight even made my eyes burn
As the mist cleared in his eyes
I saw acceptance
An ethereal light
A love so free
From this world………………………


He was expressing his last emotions
And his dark eyes
Were tired
Though happy
And with a steady determination ready to close
I peeked heavily for one last time
Into the deep eyes that
Somewhere were also my reason to life
And at the end of his eyes I saw
Love for me
Like the innocent love that
I always had felt for him.

And with that I closed his expressive eyes
With my own life worn eyes
And for first time and even the last
My eyes were also as expressive
As the one by which I had lived by all my life.
As we both saw our last together
Each beholding the most expressive eyes
Locked………………

Each one acknowledging
A love so old
As these expressive eyes…..
Withheld hidden throughout life.

HOME AGAIN

I travel on these lanes close to my heart
I reach those places where I have been
I smell the familiar smells
I reach and touch the seen
I cry and my teardrops fall on the trodden paths
They still bear my imprint and I feel I am home again.

I reach out to the roads
I lay down on the grass
I realize my life
Is incomplete without the place
Which I call my home.

Life took me to places
It made me see many a sites
I settled
Down in the races
To survive and I cried
As my heart longed for home again.

I told myself I was immature
I told that this is not true
I explained
I partied
I had friends busy life
Success
But the home
It was empty
I wanted to be home again.

Like a long lost mother was she
I wanted to be near her
I have cherished my dreams around it
In it’s hidden corners and niches
I have played many a games
And its age hides my teenage
Its rooms my journey to adult hood
It’s my life in its pages
Old and forlorn
Tired but living
It’s my home again.

I cry as I see her after so many days
Old yet standing
Demolished in so many places
Tears swell my eyes
But I will build it again.

Neglect has caused hurt to my home and me
But like a very caring mother
It welcomes me back
Provides me love
Gives me a chance to correct my mistake
And gives me a loving roof to cover my head
I hide under her
From this world
To escape the frauds who say the know me
I hide under my motherly home away from the world
In its loving seclusion.

I will stay now in the folds of nature
Doing what my heart says
Just peace and me
As I am home again.



………………………………….


i miss places
i miss ppl
i miss ma soul
which has left me
it has no boundaries
an no weight of a sackfull of useless duties imposed ma little self
pointless leashes hold me back

DIARY OF LIFE

That day flew on
Standing at the secluded niches
And then some sweet nostalgia
Drew me into the corner
Of the memoirs of the past life.

Those musty pages held
Up downs – bitter sweet experience
Of the life lived by me.
Blanks without words
Seemed like fairytales
Unknown………… the past life lived.

The dust flew irritably
I turned pages monotonously
I read on and on.
And remembered what gone past.

Some words came out of those lines
Some were read out
Some touched the heart
And some just flew past.

Sweet lanes of memory past…………….like
A stain at a corner
A tear blurring a word
A climax of a hard life
I recalled………………I recall
A memoir of my life I regain.

………………………………………………


Life flew past
So fast
A cat and dog chase
No gains
Just pain……………
Of what I lost.

Then my daughter’s diary
An unready story
Her first steps I did not see
Follies unhandled tore the life apart.

Another fallen tear
Crystal clear
Blurs another word
In this very musty page.
Shutting the book with heartfelt pain
Buried sadness……….
The yellow pages turned mustier.
Nostalgia of pain……………

………………………………………


No gain
Running away
From problems that turned disasters
From cheating self
And suffering stiflingly
Without acknowledging
The buried emotions.

No family left
No use of the phone
No parties now
Did they ever matter?
Did not help me now……………..

As I remain alone I think
Tortured by past penetrating
How I ……just me………solitary
Solitary I remain………. And with
That ………diary
Buried in silence of sorrow that…
Diary of the Untold Unlived life………

....................................................................................................................

know dat u must take time out to c the pages of ur life wen u r on dem
as one of ma fav fren says keep no backlogs as if u do
u lose out
at the end of day
as money sum cheap replacement is neva as much fun

THE FIRST VISION

She walked into my life
Like a leaf surfing on the wind,
The face of innocence
A cherub, an angel
Who touched my cold heart
And as the warmth seeped in
The hard heart melted.
And I held on to her for eternity.
The warmth that was out of my of life
Was provided by her.
She, a mere child melted me
A huge character, metaphor
The world had once seen.
I settled in a sweet sleep
For once and then also I
Held her. She caressed me.
I knew she was peace.
I knew not for how long such
Joy would stay, forever she said.
Then though a blind man
Could not see
I hoped her to be the
Lovely daughter I lost
One whose touch healed
A lost face in the staggering numbers
Of millions in this world.
But then as she closed my eyes
With her sweeping fingers
To put me to a little sleep
Me, a blind man gained vision
And I saw in her warm sweet face
As I fell into a deep sleep
The gentle face of death
Of warmth and oblivious eternity.

......................................................................
a tribute to death in all its glorious beauty

rationalise the heart

many a times v say v take a rational outlook to life
but actually wen v rationalise v r basically tryin to help ourselves by answerin some of the unanswered questions in our brain itself
like for an instance
v r faced with a problem in life an to solve it there r two approaches in dis life like
v take the practical aspect and function how the world expects us too....
or v listen to the heart

now i dunno abt u but i am such an individual who has a flare to reason but also is imaginative but yet there is a part in me that tries to understand all emotions to rationalise and pinpont dem to scientific lines....

so if sumone who is not such a great thinker he may forget wot his heart says he may kill his imagination....wen he takes a decison to appease the world
but i wont

but the trouble starts at dat point wen i try to rationalise a decision dat i wish to take... dat ma heart supports but i don find a concrete practical reason
so to a same problem i hav a path den.. another path for another reasonin line and so on for diff reasonin lines to the same issue

till the time wen i hav a milloin rational answers to a same problemm all rationally correct but none appeasin to ma heart

and den i am stranded

but if i hav a very strong intuition i take the way of ma heart and am happy

but if i don i spend lots of time reasonin why the way i hav taken is correct and y wot ma heartwished was wrong...and ironically how happy i shud b dat i hav taken dis part

but in ma heart i kno a blunder has been made

so wot conclusion do v reach
did i tell u dis so dat u cud read dis stuff and think how intelligent or confused i am

or am i again reasonin ma heart without reason

but i write all dis stuff for a simple reason dat i am astouned how even in dis practical age v cannot reason evrythin
..................theres sum miracle still left if only v try to c and discover dem in our so called mundane lives

if v listen to the heart do the unexpected however irrational it may seem
den v expect sumthin new as the decision is not stereotyped and we can hope for the unexpected
hav sum joy in our lives..freshness and happiness as v r doin wot v want..wot our heart wants

and perform miracles not in the real sense just in dat sense dat v r happy
and live life knowin its yet full of surprises...........................and dis thing itself is a mmiracle in real sense in dis bsy unhappy world

ending i wud say all the time v think our heart is irrational its bcoz v ha set our minds to the rational clock of dis world
v c our dreams through the veil of the world
but dats not the way it shud b
the moment v cast off the veil of the world
an interpret our own dreams wid our own eyes, our heart will seem rational as den our brain is colourin itself wid the principles v hav set for ourselves in our own influence
not the one painted by the world
......................................................................................................................................................................

i dont kno wot u take from dis blog

eve i dont kno wot i try to convey

mayb jus start the thinkin process out dere in all u guys
so all those whom i hav been able to stir please tell me how hav u interpretted it
tell me how ddo wot i say colours u
and tell me please i hav a lot to learn from ma co-thinkers....
as i hav yet a lot to learn and a brain to paint in ma own colours wid different shades eachday
till....the time i can


the thinker i am....yet the lava girl
lava girl ....and the thinker must merge