Free

You don't need nobody
for the far away African Safari

Quiet coffee conversations
A new persecutive
So much more of the world to discover
People, at their amusing best

Mango reminds me of summer at home
Of home wrapped lunches at school
Of cigarette smoke and people who discuss nothing

You don't need nobody
To feel blessed from within

There is time to stand and stare
Time to feel attractive.
Friends who bless in unknowing ways
Time to feel your legs look good today.

You don't need nobody
To be one with the resonating music

Pictures from the past, they stare at you
Memories give you hope and fulfillment
Food tastes excruciatingly good
You don't mind the taste in your mouth so much.

You don't need nobody
to guide your starry skies.

Smiles come naturally, so do the answers.
Spiritually comes spontaneously buoyed
The unfulfilled dreams so close
Yet your at peace knowing they are far

You don't need nobody
to write in your notebook.

The brown eyes and the face render the pleasant
More joy than sadness, more sun than not
Conversations bring hope, about beauty and vastness
Yet to be discovered.

You don't need nobody
To ever stop learning.


Free by Cat Power. I love the guitar riffs and the smooth sorta urgency in her voice.

Should I call you Jesus?

Should I call you Jesus?
Should I call you Saviour?
Should I call you the dissemenator of all my fears?

Should I call you wonderwall?
Stealer of an Oasis song?

Should I call you a music tune?
of all worries, you make immune?

Should I call you a shooting star?
A wish I make, I know will not carry me far

Should I call you a pleasant break?
Who stay and talk and thus, my day make

Should I call you an apple red?
Which appeals so much more than the normal, I dread

Should I call you God's voice
Who is tolerant of my will and choice

Or should I call you the pleasant laughter
Which resonates within even after.

Should I call you a stirring discussion?
To send me into a realm of quiet introspection

Should I call you the unfailing desire?
Who doesn't cease to stoke the inner spark and the fire

Should I call you words of beauty
Which instill in me some sort of passive duty.

Should I call you Jesus?
Should I call you Saviour?
Should I call you the dissemenator of all my fears?

Should I call you Jesus by Billie Myers. I've searched high and low for that song! I had it on a rock anthems tape is class 11 I think. Used to love this song. Haven't heard it in years..

The story of Rigid Girl again

Rigid girl must have worked very little today. It was 3 pm and she was thirsty. She was typing an email out and struggling for the words. Now and then, she would stare at the fotos of family members on the wall.. all stuck in smiles.. in a postcard from happier times.. the smiles seem too perfect to be true.. a state of mind she little identified with right now.. She wondered at the email as her fingers tap thru the keyboard. As if tapping them harder, would make it more meaningful to the reader. The futility of the exercise wore her down. she had taken her secure little universe and her carefully planned life (or so she thought) too much for granted.. all her unfulfilled dreams were right there.. just a little out of reach and waiting to be stolen by her.. all compartmentalized and stored away for a later day. They seemed ridiculously beyond her reach and it bothered her intensely. Her mind wandered to an old post about a crazy boy who had set her free. Crazy boy, who had always been her partner in not-so-rigid-ways. The smile which rose within her soul was quickly wiped out like the flame of a candle extinguished by a random person.

Crazy boy had taken his crazyness along with him to a far away land. A life rigid girl always wanted to be a part of, but never quite could. She concluded that the crazy boy was not-so-crazy anymore. He had a new name on the outside. On the inside, she knew that crazy boy would always remain just that. To her. Not-so-crazy boy had changed too. He had become jaded and worn. The vacuum of time and distance and space had eaten away at him and left him fragmented. He was older and wiser, but his eyes still reflected a hint of the crazy soul. Why else would he leave her a rainbow colored bubble as a keepsake for till he returned.

A loud shout of laughter brought her back to her senses. And she stared at the screen in front of her. Little did she have trouble expressing herself. The words seemed like a jumbled mess in front of her.

Rigid girl had traveled a long way. A long, hard way, but not completely devoid of laughter and sunshine. She was well on the way to becoming crazy girl herself. She trampled and fell and rose up quite happily. She always pretended to be strong within coz she knew it would be worth it to be all crazy in the end. Her mind often wandered to crazy boy, but now she had the bubble he gave her instead. It was more a memento than a replacement of crazy boy. Wherever rigid girl walked, the bubble followed. She grew to nurse her life and her dreams in the large pretty bubble with rainbow colours reflected on it. As time went on, the bubble grew and sparkled and grew big enough for her to play with it. She still felt rigid, but the bubble crazy boy had left in his place, eased the rigidness and made her light and happy. She was optimistic for her future and she could afford to be a little crazy. She loved how the bubble made her feel alive and hopeful. She had grown to treasure the bubble which got her through good times and bad. She thrived on it and held it close to her in times of hurt and pain. One day, the bubble burst and fell at her feet. And she was left with nothing. Half-crazy girl wept for the loss of her precious bubble. She was left broken beyond repair. Every passing day, rigid girl didn't stop thinking about the bubble which ex-crazy boy left her. She had nothing left of crazy boy now. She lost her crazy boy and the bubble. The shadow of the lost bubble and crazy boy haunted her. They resounded in heart and soul and eyes. She was afraid to dream again. Rigid girl was back to being just that.