Monday, April 30, 2012

Friday, April 27, 2012

I'm an open book

I fight off my tears,
and run from the unknown,
i'm ruled by my fears,
but i let my emotions be shown.
I am me,
but its not fun,
it's something to see,
but it also makes people run.
I'm sad and lonely,
depressed and a brat,
I think your my only,
but how do i know that?
I'm so confused,
about everything,
i've been scratched and bruised,
and there's no returning.
I can run and hide,
i don't have to be alive,
i can die inside,
I can take a straight nose dive.
Deep under darkness,
where i can't be found,
I can be heartless,
I wont make a sound.

Dharmendra Bakrecha

Sunday, April 22, 2012

The Smell of an Old Book

Thinking about it, I really don't know
how to describe the aroma of old pages,
that unique smell when paper ages.

Perhaps as a coalescing of leather and ink.
Maybe as a blessing for those who read?

Whatever words are chosen,
an old book smells best when it's open!

D. Bagrecha

Nathuram Godse - The Man Who Killed Gandhi

Nathuram Godse - The Man Who Killed Gandhi (The Other Side of The Story)