Alone in a Crowded Room

As I have lived in this world,

I have seen many things,

I have seen darkness and light,

And Yin countered by Yang,

I have drunk Scotch Whiskey,

And gotten high on hooch,

I have read a handful,

And seen them adapted too,

I have found I like music,

And the company of a friend,

I have found well wishers in strangest places,

And strangers in familiar ones,

I have fought inner demons

And emerged wiser,

For while it’s true that

Relatives cannot be chosen,

You can choose friends

I have found that people are frequencies,

Oscillating about a mean point,

And that it’s important to find one,

Which can compliment mine,

I have found joy in silences between conversations,

And I have laughed loudest when they have resumed

I have found that acceptance can be difficult,

But not impossible to find,

Over time, I have carved a tiny niche for myself,

In which I stay,

I have friends, and a loving family

And mentors as well,

I have realized that I do not fit,

Into certain circles of life,

And that this does not affect,

The quality of my life,

Because as Kipling said,

It’s about facing impostors,

Lurking as Triumph and Disaster,

And treating them the same

No, I am not run of the mill,

But I am Someone 

Alone in a crowded room

The Bilge Master

Blocked

Hello,

I’ve been a tad under the weather, writing wise these past few days and haven’t been able to post stuff much due to college pressure. Today, I decided that I wouldn’t waste this opportunity to talk about writer’s block, which is what has happened to me.

Normally, when I have writer’s block, I ask some of my blogger friends to author a guest post for me. Over the years, I’ve been given posts by Laura Cook, ArnabChakraborty, my pen pal in the US, known to you only as K and my mother. My most recent guest posts are by Kiki and Arunima.

Well, this time I thought I’d break the pattern and have a conversation with you readers myself. As you can tell, this letter is not coming along too well; thereby proving that I am well and truly blocked.

Did someone ask what it’s like to be blocked? Yes, I think it was the guy in the tuxedo near the corner of the room. Well, there is no definitive answer to the question, actually. I can say however that being blocked is annoying. Ideas don’t come into your mind like they used to and neither do you find the concentration needed to compose something. The end result, more often than not, is you ending up staring at a blank sheet of paper or in my case a blank Word document page wondering what on earth you should say. It can be a tad taxing, seeing as you feel ideas vibrating in your head, but can’t triangulate the source of the vibrations in order to build from it. It’s like a lot of things are happening at once. One idea is a story. A story about what? A story set where? Why a story and not a poem? Why a poem and not a random bunch of words that happen to rhyme?

It goes on and on and on and on...

Infuriating is a word I would associate with it. It doesn’t help that the Facebook page I have for the blog keeps reminding me that I have not posted for at least “n” number of days.

Ah well. All blocks pass soon enough. I just have to be patient and maybe share a few of my old posts.

Until we meet again, readers!

The Bilge Master

Coming Home

All alone a night one day,

I turned out the light,

And placing my head on the pillow,

I tried to sleep

But I needed a lullaby

Because I was thinking of

That Ed Sheeran song you’d sung to me

On the last day of school

Stuck in traffic on the interstate

I played that same song

On my Lumia 540

It brought a smile to my face

Because although it was not you

There was someone

Waiting for me to come home

And I remembered

I was not alone

The Bilge Master