Old notes on the road.

I was rummaging through my ancient soft copy files I stored in CDs before coming back home (from Australia), and found some old techno scribblings of the usually melodramatic me. Done in between research experiments and deciphering hard-core molecular jargons, thoughts like these seep through. I realize, I have always been that kind who'd step on the breaks on a fast track, to watch butterflies float happily by.

Time and Space

30 October 2002

A moment in eternity, fleeting.
A scale in endless time, ephemeral.
Lives passing by in this infinity.

A fleck in a sea of sand, minuscule
A fragment of the earth, infinitesimal
One soul a speck of skin in this endless void.

We dream, we run, we rush.
We mock, we demean, we crush. But why?
Distorted time and space, buried in our eyes.

If life is glanced with profound pragmatism -
That we are mere passers by
And we are but part of a million specks,
Won’t one desire to give this given chance its best?

To make that indiscernible fragment leaving imprints on hearts
That trace of speck indelibly marking souls,
That fleeting moment be remembered
And that bit of scale lived full.

Right of Passage
05 November 2002

In a sea of emotions
I drift by.
Holding back,
Thinking, rethinking
What is right.
What is good.
What must be.
Not what I want
Nor how I feel
Nor what I am,
But what I can be.

Regrets?
Probably.
But then again,
It comes creeping in -
The guilt and aftermath
Outweighs
Unthought acts.
Tormenting at times,
As it may seem,
What is right.
What is good
What must be.
Had become what I am.
And perhaps, probably me.