Where we all belong

There is this place beyond the window rails
Beyond our daily chores, away from piles of papers
Far from the flickering screen with zeros and ones
A place we call our own, a secret dwelling or a lonely planet

Chasing images that appear on pages, or in a lovely film
Or those that zoom past us, as we stand stranded at a busy crossroad
We build it around us, in tiny fragments, bit at a time
The texture of which resembles the scarlet of a late evening
Or the dampness of those hillside holidays
The cacophony of a messy main street
Or the silence that precedes the morning sun
Light rays or dew drops, screeching horns or quietness
For each of us, our own, this place our heaven on earth
Hidden at times from even our own consciousness

Strangely though, we move in and out
Drifting between realms like gods do
To be there, and here, now and next
But for some of us,
It is to be there, that we are here
Rarely wanting to come back, to live
Oh, but for us, to live is to be there
To breathe is to die to our surroundings
Our bodies remain alive, our mind alive in our own place
Hidden at times from even our own consciousness

There is this place beyond the lives of others, or ours
This is a place where we all belong
So distinct but yet so similar
All at once, and forever

Dannie John
19-Feb-2011

Chasing Fish

Kites flying high, chasing fish in sidewalk drains
Running around the house shouting stupid slogans
Driving around a single wheel Mercedes, along the parapet of my terrace
Picking mangoes of the neighbors groves, playing mama’s boy when the sun goes down
There was never enough to do, but never any more to achieve
Never once a day that started without smiles or one that ended without tears;
But when the night fell quiet, tucked into my bed, sleep overwhelmed me like there was no morrow
Looking back mate, I would trade all of tomorrow, and most of today for one yesterday
Can you, lord, sent me back to being a child?
Someone sang, freedom’s just another word for nothing left to loose,
I say, freedom’s just another word when there is nothing left to do
Guess, setting out with a planned tomorrow, and a reviewed today, has made me far from free
Can you, lord, with an open sail, set me back on trail, to gently float to a never-ever land, today?

Exploring though the paddy fields, I came across a place
With waterfalls, and tadpole swims, some rays reflecting off
All it was, was a gentle stream, with a bund at its edge
But for my little brain, was the paradise my dad spoke of in early morning prayers
For all my days as a little boy, I kept going back
To the paradise, to this never-ever land, my secret freedom place
But now, guess, some stones have crushed my little tadpole swims
For I see a new habitation to have overwhelmed my secret land
A kid skips and hops in their courtyard, hope he finds on my behalf a new freedom place
Looking ahead mate, I guess, yester will never come back; all I do is, wait for this act to pass
Can you, lord, sent me back to being just a child?
Someone sang, freedom’s just another word for nothing left to loose,
I say, freedom’s just another word when there is no more air to breath
Guess, looking ahead, looking forward to a life of emptiness is all we do
Chasing fish within a huge glass bowl, like fools we look to God
So lord, with an open sail, set me back on trail, to gently float to a never-ever land, today?

Sitting at my balcony, staring at these kids, playing, running to nowhere
I feel happy to see someone keeping up the legacy, of being just a child
So I grow old, and leave this trail, someone picks up dust
To leave a trail for someone new, and the world just goes around
So lord, here I am, stepping out to a busy day, with plans in my head, and a destination to reach
But, promise me to pull me out, and set me back on sail, to gently float to a never-ever land
With nowhere to go, and no days to count!

Dannie John
4-Dec-2010

Live

A refugee in my own land
An orphan among my own people
When will I see the bright blue sky?
When will this rain stop?
A trickle it starts, then oozes out,
Bullets, blood and bath from above
Living through this night
Waiting for the Sun, that never comes
I have learned to dream, to hope, to live!

Dannie John
28-Oct-2010

Song of agony, of pain and loss

Far, far away, there is a place called happiness
Far away from these beautiful hills
From the mountain springs
From the cuckoo songs
And the misty woods

Beneath my feet are gold and more
Visitors here chasing ore
Saviors many, spreading lore
Master, but why do you make me sore
cause all that glitters, don’t surely soar

All that has risen is pain and agony
Behind my home were woods of ebony
Today I look like them, all bony
My eye’s are full, my belly all empty
Wasted for all, and almost loony

I am all but a few years into my life
Been through lot, sadness rife
Through many a crime, so many time
Is there a God? Come save my life
Before these saviors snatch it off

In this tussle, I have lost my youth
Minister, do you have no kids?
My saviors make their kids to kill
Visitors need to bloat their kids
Why in my own home, I do not count

I stand at this foothills, and cry aloud
My land of honey, of laughter, of tears
This land where my father tilled,
Has all over his blood spilled;
And today my land has shunted us out

Sadly, I sing,
Far, far away, there is a place called happiness
Far away from these beautiful hills
From the mountain springs
From the cuckoo songs
And these misty woods

Dannie John
13-Aug-2010

Last Breath of Innocence

Nice dream
Kind Miracles
Carpets over the clouds
Castles in the sky
Feet kissing the grass
Arms swinging as I swing along
Nice Dream, Kind Miracles
Eyes shut, looking up to the skies
Hair let loose, flying, keeping up
If there were dreams, I would have dreamt
If there were miracles, I would have lived

Nice dream, Kind miracles
Oh, help me stay put in my life
Saviors snatching away my last toy
Handing over complex ones
My mama’s bosom changed to a reddened ravage
Certain directions convoluted to pipe dreams
My land, my history traded in spirited bourses
Could I just play? Be a normal brat
Or fight? Oh, fight I did,
My trigger flushing out a dozen fountains
Falling a thousand men, and me
Arms swinging as I fall alone
Eyes shut, looking up to the skies
Hair let loose, flying, keeping up
If there were dreams, I would have dreamt
If there were miracles, I would have lived

Dannie John
12-8-2010

Alone

My eyes are open and see the crowd around
Sure, I can hear the chit-chat, and the rumble
Many a face seem familiar, some strange
Hand-shakes all around, burst of laughter sudden
Familiar crowd, and amidst friends
I should be at home, and at peace

My eyes are closed, though open they seem
And I can hear nothing but the sound of silence
Faces don’t seem to matter, they are not complete anyway
Nothing around connected, nothing seemed to exist
Familiar crowd and amidst friends
I am alone, as always.

Dannie John
4-Mar-2010

To you!

To spend time with you
To be in your arms
To cuddle up
To play pillow fight
And to fall into your lap when tired
To kiss
To caress
To love
To fight
To hold you tight
To hold your hands
To look at the moon
To laugh,
Let us go and dwell in the villages,
In the vineyards, let us make love
Let the dewdrops of the dawn drip into our beings
As we lay lazy, naked under the vines
Let the first rays of sunshine, pierce the chill of our bodies
And bring in warmth to our entangled posture
My love, to you this ode
My heart aches, every moment far away from you
My soul quenches for your nearness
Let us go
Let us go away
To a place far away
Away from our daily chores
Breaking away the strings that chain us
To a place where it is only you and me
To the valley of hope
Of love
And honey
Let us see each other
Let us feel each other
And then, will I proclaim my love for you
Standing up on the rocks, will I shout out!
My love, there is nothing better in life
Than these moments spent with you
The trees will node in agreement
The sun will shine in acquiescence
All nature will bow, and make way for us
My love, to you this ode
Let us go
Let us go to place where no one knows us
Where we are but strangers in a strange land
The only node of recognition, is between our hearts
And then will my heart reach out to yours
And then will ours souls become one
And then will I take you in my arms
Oh my love, to you this ode
Let us go
Let us go
Let us go!

Dannie John, to his beloved, 2-Feb-2010

Ecstasy's Locks

Floyd's floating up in the air
Spirits have chained me to my chair
Chimney’s galore all around me
Heaven's passage seemed totally free

Neon lights and rays of gloom
Accompanied the music of bloom
Chords of glory and beats of irreverence
Reverberated in our empty resistance

Giving into thy strong willed hold
Johnny, to thee we are but sold
As smoke fogged our eyes and soul
Strings strained in melody’s call

Ash spilling over my fingers
Listening to great rock singers
A glass of malt on the rocks
And I finally break open ecstasy’s locks

Dannie John
31-Jan-10

Color of Red

I see it in his eyes
I see it when they fall
In the blood spilled over petty claims
In the slit of evil lies
Through the mortar shells, and the wicked pen
I see it within, I see it without
When an Innocent falls, and a war is won.

I see it in her lips
I see it in the red rose bud
In the air around, in shy crescendo
On her cheeks, the innocent kiss
Through the pretty gifts and the loving pen
I see it in my heart
When one falls in love and a life is won.

I see it at creation
And at destruction
I see it in rings exchanged
I see it when all have changed
I see it in the new born smile
I see it at the last flame
When all is gained, but the love is lost.

Oh, color of red,
Such an uninvited guest
Loved by all, despised the same
What an apt beginning, what an apt end
I see it around me at dawn
And when the sun sets;
When one day dies, and another takes birth.

Dannie John
16-Jan-10

Step Out

Step out and look at the blue sky above, feel the cool wind brushing against your cheek, look at the leaves withering from the trees around, the stars trying to hide under the clouds, the darkness of the night, the light at dawn, feel it, see it. See the world as it was meant to be. Go for a swim in a near by river, or climb to the top of misty hill. See the dew drops. See through them the beauty of life beyond. The wet bamboo or the birds chirping around. Look at the kids in the near by field. Chasing a paper-ball or flying a stitched up kite. See life in their eyes, living through the sweat. Pick up an old rattled cycle, the good old’ buddy and go across the country side. Take your hands off the handle as you speed down an incline. Breath in. The cool air. Chase the rain. Get wet. Splash mud around. Go fishing. Catch tadpoles instead. Feel the love of life around. Of that can talk or otherwise. The connection you find in your dog’s eyes. The touch of the little finger. The warmth in your loved one’s arms.

Ash spilled over my fingers and my skin burned. As I close my eyes and just enjoy the darkness instead.

Step out.

Dannie John
12-Jan-2010

Remembrance of a dream

While I lay wide awake, trying to remember my dream,
the sun came up from the horizon, overwhelming the comfortable darkness of my room
The warm rays of sunshine stroked against the coldness in my feet
and her arms stretched around my bosom;

When did I fall asleep? When did I detach?
When did I move in? When did I enter?
What was the journey? Where did I end up?
All I remember is a sinking feeling of having lost that dream

While there, I had promised myself to never come back
To live on, in the world beneath my eyelids
To sing, to dance, to love, and to be loved
Never once to return, Never once to forget

He was a tall man, and I was riding a horse
I remember her smell, of rose and many others
Alas, I cannot remember her face, but the touch is so new
The dance so mesmerizing, and her smile so enchanting

Bits and pieces of my dream lay up on the ceiling like a jigsaw puzzle
Each one of them disappearing by the second
The feeling of loss sinking me further, I try to hold on to the last one
But in vain!

As the hands on the clock get closer to drawing a straight vertical
I close my eyes once again, trying to rush into the tunnel
The door closing far ahead, encircling itself into smaller loops
Stretching my hands and my failing legs, I try to pull myself back to the world again

But someone has let off a siren, one that of alarm, the ringing growing louder
May be I should not have come out, may be they found out
The warm rays of sunshine stroked against the coldness in my feet
and her arms stretched around my bosom;

A slow movement in the bed, and the siren went out
Awake I lay, thrown out of the palace of my own creation
My foolishness to step out, in to the world to take a break
All I remember is a sinking feeling of having lost that dream

Each day I wake up, though I like it not
Each day I step out, to step into this world of rot
Waiting to pass through the seconds of pain, to go back in night to my world of joy
Hoping someday I will never wake, and live on in the world beneath my eyelids



Dannie John
19-Dec-09

Beginning

As he stood there and watched, there was a miracle taking place. He saw red, blood red really, as if he were looking at the horizon. I would more call it the rising sun. Or is it not? A new day was being born, for someone at least.

White coats rushed all around him, smell of spirit filled his nostrils. There was blood dripping into a bowl. He probably had never seen so much human blood at once. And at once, he felt nausea. But the hope of what lay ahead, kept him there. Or may be it was her grip.

She held on to him tightly, as if there was no tomorrow. She lay there, with eyes wide open, with her grip strongly around his wrists, with inexplicable pain seizing every single muscle in her body, waiting for the moment. The moment of truth. And then she thought for a second, just a flash of a thought passed her mind before pain again defeated her. Sometimes we endure pain no one can ever measure, with just the reassurance of a better tomorrow looking over us with soothing kindness. Why am I going through this?

And then he saw a strand of hair. Anxiety was slowly seeping in. With every passing second, there was a fulcrum of emotions playing around in his mind. The sight of every additional inch brought in excitement. As the grip tightened, that changed to nervousness, anxiety and sometimes sheer pain where her nails dipped.

He thought to himself, is it all? Have I achieved all? Manhood is complete.

When the head was out, his first instinct was to look for resemblance. But then she was crying aloud. Did he hear some expletives? Oh, that was a response, he realized. He had accidentally said "Push baby".

It was nine months since I slept properly, like always I loved, curled up within my blanket, knees touching my breasts. It been a long time, I ran up the stairs, got drenched in rain, danced in the shower. It has been a long time I breathed easily. It has been a long time. And then she cried out loud, a cry of pain and of giving in. A cry of victory, of having done with. A cry of happiness. A cry of emptiness, of the weight draining out. She thought, all certain done, it was nice carrying you my child.

And through the gap between her legs, she saw the first glimpses of her new born.

For them it was a new dawn. For a second the two parallel lines of thought met, they thought to themselves, my child is beautiful. It was not over, they thought, it is just beginning.

DJ
7th Aug 09

Note: I have never witnessed a birth. I have just tried to think like the protagonists.

its been a while. And I am damn pissed. Wasted 700 days of my life. Sorry.

Need to thank Jeff. Never met him, but accidentally pushed me to read my blogposts again after so long. And I need to confess, I am ashamed, sad and angry at myself for not being able to commit time to write.

So it seems I am getting back to being me. The first step is here, over the past week - dusted out myself from excuses and reasons for not thinking / creating. Today pushed myself to sign-in (after 2 years). And suddenly I realise, I have so much to say and I am wasting my life by not doing it. My mind has been swollen with ideas, nights have been again about dreaming movies, and every now and then there are two lines of unadulterated poetry spilling out. And I am enjoying it.

Thanks Jeff.
DJ

Withered Raindrops – A Story of Us

The days we strolled hand in hand
In light drizzle
The rain drops
And the rainbows we saw through them
The smell of the new born mud
Do you remember?

Do you remember the morning fog?
The steaming idlies at Iyengar’s?
The By-Two coffee
The late night cinemas?
The ride back home
The love we shared
Do you remember us?

Do you remember the first touch?
The gentle caress on my hair
The hesitant mingling of our fingers
The nervous smile
Anxious eyes
Thirsty Heart

Do you remember?
Me?
My name?
My face
Smell
My all
Do you remember me??

You wish for a nest when it rains
And
Wait to fly out
I miss you most times
Though I have you around all times

Do you remember?
The days we fought
The pillow in the middle
The cuddle at dawn, and the realization little later
The badly made coffee in the morning
The forgotten Kiss
And the hug
Careful glance, to avoid being caught

We have become memory
The present reduced to a badly directed stage act
But why is act going on?
Even after the curtain call

We have become memory
And memories of us come back to me as a sweet dream
Inflicting a pain, sweet and sour at the same time
Can we live in our past and push the present forward

A decade of marriage
And its anniversary has become a forgotten tale
We cuddle up in our sleep
But as strangers we wake
Do you remember?

Do you remember?


Do you remember?

Do you remember?

the first smile,
the first touch
Kiss
Kiss
Do you remember?

Unending phone calls
Coffee that never gets o’er
Sun that never sets
When it does finally,
It never comes back

The lazy mornings
The disturbing maid
And the sunlight

The walk around the house in underclothes
The cuddle at the gas stove
My kiss on the neck
And the lazy morning rain

To be continued….

DannieJohn

First experiments with my New Toy - EOS 400D

Ammazing song... Amazing feeling listening to it...

feelin blue feelin blue feelin blue
my heart says can't be can't be true

jane kya chahe mann bavara
akhiyaan mere saawan chala

feelin blue feelin blue feelin blue
my heart says can't be can't be true

saghan aachal sarabore hove
sajan aasuvan main kya jor hove
kya jore hove apne jiya pe
mann to mhara ye manncahala

jane kya chahe mann bavara
akhiyaan mere sawan chala

pavan purva main yoon udta jave
badra chanda se mann judta jave
aave havaa ka jhoonka fir aaisa
toote patang ki door sa

jane kya chahe mann bavara
akhiyaan mere sawan chala

Childhood Memories

I am trying to run through my childhood…. My years of growing up, coming to terms with life which was as at the same time stupidly funny and profound. I am trying to go back to the earliest day in my life that I can remember. Trying hard.

Sometimes there are bits and pieces, some days are in order and are continuous. Some were happy, some were painful. Sometimes I relate to them, can find words to articulate the experiences I have gone through, sometimes memories have become old and unclear. They have started to wear off like the old photographs in my Grandma’s album. The moment you look at it, you know this is a beautiful snap but time has erased some of its beauty and now is presenting itself to me as some Jig-saw pieces. Let me have the fun of putting it in order.

I have always tried to maintain a Diary and in some occasions I have been fairly successful in documenting some of my days (mostly it was written during the brief drowsy moments before sleep seized me). But somehow it is more exciting to look at those unclear photographs of my memories and try to figure out the beauty of it.

One characteristic of my childhood that I vividly remember is that I was constantly out of sync with rest of the world around me. I lived mostly in a world created by myself, where I chose the characters, the setting and the environment. When I first read Calvin and Hobbes cartoon strip, I could immediately identify with Calvin – mainly because I lived my childhood like him. Not as cynical, but surely as detached from the rest of the world. But as years went by, I slowly started recognizing life around me. Today, I still retain 30 to 40 percent of this trait – In fact I have a world tucked away in my privacy, in my mind, I sometimes steal a moment of secrecy to look into my bathroom mirror and act out few of my fellow citizens (of my world). But I also have my saner world, as some might call it, the one I actually enjoy much lesser, the one in which I need to struggle through 30 days to get my bank account filled so that my bread and butter can be taken care of. Given a choice I would love to remain in my world, one I created some 20 years back, when I was kid, and risk being looked down as an insane and mentally unfit fellow for community living.

My mom tells me that, once back from school, I used to finish homework and milk and run to enact a play in the courtyard of my house. I hardly remember what it was about and from where I picked up inspiration for it. But I remember the hero of the play was called “Maccedona” - God alone knows what it means.

I used to walk from one end of the courtyard to the other muttering rubbish (in my mom’s words) – probably for me it was highly intellectual dialogue of my play or was it life itself. At times I used to gallop on one leg, indicating travel of my hero on a horse. I remember the swift movements of my hands, my mannerisms indicating an adventure. Aah, now I remember, probably I was inspired by the Greek tales that I learned in my school.

I am still trying to go back to the earliest day I can remember in my life.

Something else I remember about my childhood was that, I was never academically inclined. That does not mean I was less curios of the intricacies that surrounded me. I could never get myself to sit in one place and mug all that I was required to. I had questions on everything, if I found answers for them, then that was education for me. Sometimes I could not find answers, no one would provide them. There is a C&H carton, where Calvin asks his dad, how load testing is done on a bridge and his Dad gives him some stupid answer. I have received a lot of stupid answers like that – not from my dad, from others around me.

I used to ask questions, more of them and question each answer given. I still have that trait. Some people find it irritating but for me, I derive my inspiration and learning from asking questions.

My sister was a very dominant inspiration and source of learning for me in my early days. We were two kids and our parents used to work. So most of my childhood, it was the two of us. The earliest image I can remember of me now is that of my sister giving me a bath, putting talcum powder, combing my hair, dressing me up etc. Once both of us were ready – this would be around 5 PM; we would stand on that high step in the corner of our old gate and wait for our parents to get back home from work.

To be continued…

Writer’s Block

When the sun sets and darkness prevails
Night stands out and smiles at me
The cold of the mist surrounds
Wet grass everywhere around
My eyes fixed on the eternity above
And you resting on my stretched arms below

How many more such moments do I yearn for?
My love, when you are with me and my loneliness.
Perhaps that is why I love to be alone
Alone with shapes I deem necessary
My imagination playing the creator
My whole his fingers

Shapes that come to me from my past,
Forms that breathe at times, at times not
Soulful at times, at times not
Some which make me wonder the marvel of thee
Shapes that I make love to; laugh with and cry
These are my moments, mine alone and yours

My imagination, my love and my Spirit
When I close my eyes, I see you at times
I move into this darkness and emptiness at others
I search for you for days but in vain
And then you appear from nowhere to make me crave
For more of you; but you have kept me your slave

Alas, I could say “Let there be", but I can’t
I am to struggle to create petty makes
Eyes wide open fixed on the eternity above
Wet grass everywhere around
And hope to have you resting on my sretched arms below
Alas I could say “Let there be”
And a marvel like you would come to life; over and over again

Dannie John
11-Jan-07

Some Snaps

Pictures I took for christmas. The christmas tree at home & Me at my bedroom balcony- sober of course.

Some movies.... Some Cribs
===================
Hi..
The other day I was watching a movie called " Secret window" . Predictable but Impressive. The best thing Iliked about the movie is the way it started. It started with the text display of " 6 months later". What impressed me is the way the writer/director (David Koepp) effortlessly and naturaly compressed the background story into one text card in the first scene. After reading that, all the rest of the story falls into place so nicely.Funny and errie movie. Ending was very predictable, but probably you dont like the movie for what it is, you more like it for the way it is.

Infact I stumbled upon this while I was watching Iqbal. Watched half of it. I would have probably dealt with the screenplay slightly differently. Different sensibilites, I guess. Nevertheless, fun to watch. Shreyas is a good actor (i was about to write natural actor, but suddenly realised acting can never be natutal).

Last saturday I tried writing after a long hiatus. I picked up, one of my incomplete works - "Flowers in Monsoon" and tried re-visualising the whole work. wrote only one page, but I loved it. The first draft was written 4 years back and what I wrote on sat was far better, much aesthetic and poetic. Maturity counts, I guess.

One thing I have noticed you need tremendous discipline, good mindspace to think and lot of ideal time to day dream if you want to be a writer. My current profession as a recruiter does not allow me this. I am frustrated from that point of view.

Now I am working on my discipline, tried morning walk today. As for Mindspace and time, I am trying to find a workaround for this. Lets See. I want my first movie released before 2010 ends.

All my struggle further is towards this.

Cyao.