Random rambling

Its rainy and cloudy and I can’t see a thing, I have this half cigarette which I picked up outside of corner tuck shop and trying to enjoy before anyone can see me, chances of anyone coming out in this dark and rain is very slim, but I need to be careful. I know some time when you least looking for trouble it come from all direction throwing you off-guard. So I try to be very careful when I am out for my little adventures, in this case, half burn cigrate picked up from the street. I always know that there are two types of people some who always get in trouble and some who never gets any trouble; I know no one in their right mind wants any trouble, but still some people just get into it all the time. I wonder, if I can knock on their sub-conscious brain and ask what you looking? They will reluctantly answer me “trouble.” Anyway I know my brain never even in when I am at sleep looking for trouble, I know as even in my sleep I am just scheming out to get out of trouble if I get one. So how come I get in trouble more often than all my friends and siblings. I think its law of Karma in some twisted sense, I heard from my aunt, saying my mother and father never got into any trouble when they growing up and they were not simple book warm kids as I see in my class, but somehow manage to stay away from radar. So I think it’s their Karma now attacking on me, I am paying price they should have paid while growing up. I heard a sound and my thought stopped, I looked across the street and in rain I see aunty Medi, what she doing here in this rain, she should not be here, she don’t even have an umbrella, I am weighing my options about going to help her or finish smoking every bit of cigarette I have in my hand. Reluctantly throwing away the cigarette, I walk towards her before she sees me with all the smoke, miraculously hoping in the rain she will not able to figure out I was smoking. She is drenched in mud and doesn’t look well. I ask her what she doing here at this time in this rain; she didn’t look up but seems she recognized my voice, so she asks me to stay quiet. She is trying to hide, what she is hiding and from whom? It’s too much for my brain to think now when I am still feeling sorry about dropping the idea of finishing smoke and coming to help someone who doesn’t really want any. However, I know if I wouldn’t have walk she would have saw me with cigarette and I would have gone for trouble later. So see while my brain was busy keeping me out of trouble I really lost the last bit of fun, which I could have. Oh, I think she is saying something to me; I should rather focus on what she saying than thinking about what my brain thinking.

My friend tease my for my day dreaming. I end up listening only half of their conversation and my brain takes me far away thinking about some word or something I picked up in the first line of their conversation. I feel bit shaken and looked up auntie medi is shaking my hand she is trying to show me something I look at her, not really able to see what she is trying to show, I decide to focus. She is showing me a book, what she is doing with a book, and why she was trying to hide it in first place, who needs a book in township. She thrust the book in my hand, ran back around, and disappeared; now I left with this book in rain. I am hoping she is not trying to tell me to go to school and read my books. if she wants to tell me that she should have told me any time why she came in this rain all the way running and disappeared. I walk along the side of big wall trying to stay away from rain and stopped close to lamp post, I open the book and realize it not a book, it’s a box, oh, and it has a gun. What I was thinking, I am in trouble again, and who will believe that Aunt medi came and gave me this in rain, what should I do? My brain not even trying to scheme me out, it telling me keep the book with the gun, I decide to walk away with book. I can hear police siren in distance and hoping this time it’s not me but someone else be in trouble.

Lonely blanket of Jacaranda city

Each evening brings a blanket of loneliness in city of Jacaranda
I wonder is this me, or is this the light of this city
My heart ache and I look around
I feel that city is drowning each one of us in our own world
No one seems to have time for each other.
We all are running, chasing the unknown
Leaving everything which ever matter to us, in name of progress
I see couple holding hand in hand
and I feel how blessed they are
still not consumed in the rush of mad city
I say a silent prayer in name of those loving birds
Who are still nesting in the city but
aloof of the lonely blanket of Jacaranda city.

My heart is crying again

I promised myself not to cry
But look in your eyes, tension between your eyebrows
Tells me something is wrong
My nest is not safe in the storm
I see a pencil heel and a skirt in your eyes
Same place I used to see my picture few days back
I know where your heart is, it’s not in our nest anymore
I don’t know when our nest become only my nest and you become just a visitor
I know this place doesn’t comfort you anymore
You wana fly away.
I wonder what went wrong
For me still it’s just me and you making us, but
I can see your eyes changing
My heart sinks when I think about our nest and incoming storm
But I promised myself not to cry,
So I won’t cry, even if it hurts.


Her maid and gardener are in fight again, she looks at them and not really sure what to say, Maid is with her since when she moved to South Africa and knows that she is a nice lady and really have no reason to fight with anyone. The Gardener start working in her garden few months back he is also a very down to earth hard working fellow, when first time he came in house, she thought he and maid will be good friend as they are from same age group, but she sense the tension in maid eyes first time she saw him, never able to realize why she look so troubled. Funny part is Gardner has done nothing to annoy maid but she is just cross with him. What can be a possible reason she will any way never able to figure out, South Africa is going through so much change and people not really seems to be as kind with each other as they appear. Maid is not young and she has seen the days of oppression and the way she see the world is totally different than her, seeing them stressing over nothing is not nice but they never say anything and in such times best thing, she think is to look aloof and hideaway in her own thought as for her this situation is not easy to solved, none of them have any real problem with each other yet they look so tensed when together.
She seems to lost in her own train of thought, she moved to South Africa few years back she grew up in a country where she never saw any discrimination and understanding these strain between the two people is beyond her reason but she also know these people have seen enough oppression and discrimination and they somehow got this right to be angry. She don’t really ever knew meaning of oppression till she moved to South Africa, for her only oppression she faced was when father used to forced them to do something without will or when she used to feel her sister always gets better clothes and toys as a kid that was her definition of oppression and discrimination. She think about it and feels bad, she is not mocking these people struggle, it just she happen to have easy life than her Gardner and Mai. She in her life time will never really able to figure out why her South African maid can’t stand her Zimbabwean Gardner, it’s just between them.

Don’t you cry girl

Don’t cry girl, don’t cry
Life is beautiful for those
Who choose to smile all the times
It hurts, I know
But please don’t cry
Wasted tears are wasted times
Time you can choose to be happy
Happiness is all around you; just listen to the song of birds, falling rain and blooming flower they all are singing for you
You are too precious to waste your tears for the things not in your hand my girl, so please stop crying..
Life is beautiful for those who choose to be happy
Time is tough, life is mess, I know but still I will say don’t you cry girl don’t you cry.
Life is too short to waste with tears.
Noting is worth for your tears so save them my girl, and please don’t cry..
Don’t you cry girl, please don’t cry.

I gona be my own sunshine

Tunnel is calling me again, tunnel of sorrow and pain,
I don’t wana go down that line again, there is nothing but sorrow and pain
I am not going in that deep dark tunnel again
Tunnel is too dark and deep
Each time when I go there I am lost
I can’t hear my own heart beat
Tunnel kills me each time but I keep falling there
I am not going down in the tunnel again
I heard people saying there is light at the end
My tunnel is too deep and dark
I see no light there
My legs are sour and my eyes hurt with the pain
I am not going there again
That tunnel lives in me for so long that it hard to let it go
But it’s time to leave and be my own sunshine
So I am not going there again
I am leaving my tunnel and all the sorrow and pain behind
My legs are aching and my heart is crying
I am no way going in the tunnel again
I gona be my own sunshine
I am leaving my tunnel behind

Such is life

Some days, I just want to die,
I am hurt and only way to escape is my death..
I know you loved me once, but I am nothing what you thought I am
and the pain in your eyes each time when u look at me
hurts me, its killing me slowly,.
your eyes says it all that this is not you always wanted,
I don’t know how to end what we started,
Only way to escape is death..
Becoz, we said once till death do us apart,
I feel it’s the time when we apart,
As for you I am just a bounce check,
a failure promise I am nothing what you wanted,
but you carrying on with me as you are too sweet to say it all,
but I can see it in your eyes.
so I wana die..slowly and slowly.
you will get the life you wish..
you will have the happiness and I will love u always
and we both be happy again in our own free word…


I am crossing the Karoo

The vast plains remind me about my own emptiness

Emptiness of heart

My heart is empty and broken

I am carrying a desert inside me and each drop of love you give me I soak it like a sponge.

Your love is not less; my heart is too dry for it.

I am like a Karoo soil every inch of rain soaked by it and still stays dry and harsh and beautiful

My beauty is for you but it’s dangerous, it will drain you like desert soil drain each drop of water.

I am not saying you that you go away; you stay here in my heart with me, showering your love,

The way windmills of Karoo works all days and night pumping the water in its heart,

trying to keep it moist and helping it to stand in this harsh world.

You are my windmill. You give me love and my heart needs your love more than ever,

when I am crossing this Karoo