Paying Taxes

Forsaken souls in the desert wind
or the wings of a fallen angel
can't even tell it happened so fast
they stay a while and then they leave

like the time when johny fell down
on that lovely august evening fall
listening to the music play
listening to the birds sing away

No escaping paying taxes
paying it to the world

she walked into my life with her shaded eyes and that brilliant smile
thought she was all i'd ever need
i see my vision burn, i feel my memories fade with time
she was gone before i knew ..

no escaping paying taxes..
paying it to yourself

temple on the hill

the lonely temple on the hill.. went there first time alone .. out of loneliness or to get away from the socialising ..
the locals say its cursed -- which is why there's no pujas or ceremonies carried out during the week.. safe haven for those who seek peace and quite from the bustle in the university.
think its there onwards i started to enjoy the simple beauty of this almost barren countryside of vellore.. the lonely roads .. snaking out into the middle of nowhere -- the occasional train chugging past in the distant track.. vit seems such a distant thing from so far and above ...

3 o Clock

three O clock in the morning -- its raining outside -- feels cold without the blanket -- squinting at this screen. makes me wonder ... how all the illusions are swept away .. all things you've dreamed up crashing down even before you've put up anything.
and in the loss i don't lose this silly pride.. this notion that having engineered a waste of a life is license enough to lecture and try to edit others lives.
three o clock in the morning, it's cold and lonely , unsettling and depressing-- that i have to forget this dream i dreamt of you. i've given up -- but hoped it would have ended better ... ended too soon , abrupt , hard and crushing .

should probably go to sleep .. more presentations, case studies and term papers when i wake up . just lost interest... go to sleep.