Around town!

Been cooped up in the house for too long, here's a few out and about pics from my world:

A tiny fountain at the Abu Dhabi Corniche, that's absolutely lovely in the winters.

A dash of red amidst all the city-grey..

Rare, abstract sign art in Auh.

Driving into the Sunshine =D .. Dubai-Abu Dhabi Highway..

That's one long title for a movie! (in Malayalam I believe)

A construction site being fitted with designer panels that look like wedding brides with veils.

Quirky, damn-expensive socks I discovered while gift-shopping.

Quote plates at Gulf Greetings.

Quote plate with a point! (Gulf-Greetings)

I really like this teddy and he appears here as a stuffed toy.. with barely any eyes so he's almost Halal i guess =D

Creative advertising, much?

Genuinely cute trolley bag I discovered, at a tiny shop, near my place.

Coffee beans on the couch.

[Found this draft in my archives, that never got published, but I absolutely miss these times! Reminiscent post, actually dated 27th Sept. '10]


Cruising 'round town in a Nissan Coaster Bus at 8.30 in the morning.. looking for an out, from the city to the highway... the change of routes adds the seaside to our view.. a welcome vision indeed. Off to work and the best kinda company.. food, heartfelt words, photoshop, confessions, graphics, warmth.. back on the bus before you know it.

A quick nap on the leather seat.. then the walk home.. chores, messed up sleep routine, messed up appetite. A quick stop in the blogworld.

[Alhamdulilah, for those memories...]

In search..

Raised above the clouds,

Drenched by the tides,

Fluttering merrily about,

Diving dangerously deep.

Soaring through the skies,

Drowning in the seas,

In search of patience,

In search of our peace..

Peaceful Chaos

The sun - like the center of a ripple in the sky. The blue outstretch drenched in its light, layered by the solid fluffs of the clouds. Clouds with personalities - the bold, opaque ones stubbornly block out the sun, to make known their pearly white. And wherever it can, the sun pierces through these layers, it's rays sharp and distinct with rage. 

They have a much easier time with the toddler-clouds - tiny and light, they surrender to the sun and bathe in its light. Orange flurries with strokes of amber and crimson - you could mistake them for mini-flames in the sky.

Up above, in the glistening chaos of the pearly whites and the mini-flames, you weave your way - a fish gliding through soothing rivers, bathed and refreshed. 
In this one chaotic instant, peace feels eternal.




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Dear Immensely-Large Audience, 

I seem to have finally hit  a jackpot of inspiration.. resulting in the above post and 2 more to come... (all based on the theme of the sun and clouds) spent two hours this morning - purely inspired , writing frantically - oh  s-weet joy i yearned for!! Alhamdulilah -here i go! =)

A Cig in the Rain.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to be letting out the smoke.
I'm drenched instead.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to keep my insides intact.
I'm crumbling away instead.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to be picked up as a challenge.
I'm laying idle instead.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to be inhaled from.
I'm being stepped on instead.

A cig in the rain - I.am.lost.

Run.

Thin ice cold blades scraping your skin - feel the wind rush past you.
Nerves impulses giving jerks to your skull - feel the thumping in your head.
The bones in your toes grind against the ground but bounce back up, in vain - feel the light feet you have right now.
Digging deeper into the soil, your legs wrench your guts along - wow, you're fast.
The ribs swing in half circles, right to left and back, dragging your arms along - feel your body pushing all odds away to move ahead.

It's only your eyes - the betrayers.
Sitting in their sockets, they watch the world glide past. They tell you the rest is only mechanical. A natural part of the effortless endeavour of running.
So you obey them and you run. Run like there would be no end to it. Run like its the genius idea for survival. You run not because your afraid. You run because you no longer want to be afraid.
You think.
Because then you slam into the glass! The sides of your imagination's dome. The bottom to your fantacy's pit. "The reality check."
You hate that phrase, don't you? Because you can't run anymore, you can't glide further away from the burden of existence, the consequence of your being.

It's the cold, dead end to your addiction to illusion.

You slam against it and no matter how deep your legs dig into the ground, your chest just presses harder against the glass.
And then you feel it.
The heart inside.
Stubbornly beating like a mad beast trying to break out of a cage. Over and Over. Crying out loud about the reality of it's existence. Pumping it's pain, to every inch of your body. Forcing you to recognize every cell as your own.
You see it too, as your vision blurs and blood rushes to your head, blocking out all sounds.

And then you feel them.
The lungs, striving to drag out the bad, absorb the good. Breathing in life to push away death.
You hear it too. Your own breath. Deep, hard, cold. Almost like you've got company.

As you regain a sense of the whole of your body, the feeling of existence kicks in.
The feeling like you deserve to settle for a while, rest your aching muscles, warm the pricking skin.

The sense of comfort makes you "realise" maybe it's not the end after all. Maybe it's OK.
Because come to think of it, if existence were really a burden, the Almighty wouldn't torture you with it. It's a Blessing He has bestowed out of His Love for you.
And you love Him too, right? So it's easy to do what you must (and more) out of Love for Him.

And if the Faith is just about as much as you fear it to be, the distance to the other end of this glass dome is a long stretch....
Run.

Wax Vision.

Gripped by the heat,
It feels the particles drifting apart.
Knowing it's lack of solidarity,
The wax submits, melts just as far.

Poured in to the mould,
It let's the shape define it to the core.
No longer clinging to its soul,
Lo and Behold!

It's a candle.
Standing tall as it's structure will allow.
At the height of it's beauty for now.

The colour, the scent, the glory,
Embracing peace after fury.
Here's where it's begun to belong,
Forgetting this isn't for long.

For here comes the fire,
with poison burning in it's flame.
Taking away all that's to admire,
bringing it to shame.

It melts.
In it's reality it dwells.
The journey from the wick to below
It's humbled and it has to flow.

At the bottom, it waits.
Thinks over it's traits.
Realizes it's destiny: change.
Feels the lack of it to be strange.

That is when the wax justifies,
with what within it lies,
it's reason to be a candle.
The appearance is a mere scandal,
Colour, scent, light - all added to the raw.
No - now on it's true strength it must draw.

Change - it's strength, destiny or chance.
The wax must change to take the stance,
that will return it to dignity and pride.
That will give it a new life.

It let's in the cold air.
laying every particle bare.
till it's settled to the truth,
becoming the solid it could.


......


As I see it, change is a fact.
To it, ideally I don't always react.
For, in change we reflect on what we really need.
With it we plant in our being, a doubt's seed.

I know now. I have no doubt.
Whether I stand in glory or burn out.
All I need, is those eyes,
that reflect what within me lies.
That show me the wax I always had,
To accept change, good or bad.

These eyes, destiny has made me see,
Let the changes around me run free.

In these eyes, not mine,
I see the wax in me shine.
I see the changes I can make,
I see the changes as my fate.

So all I need and all I should,
Look into these eyes,
and I'm good.