Dear Someone....

Dear Someone,

How much I may pretend that I am avoiding you in front of the world who doesn’t want me to see emotionally weak and fragile but today you need to know this; deep down I still love you. I am still blooming fresh and fragrant feelings for you in the colorful garden of my heart.

I could still remember that moment when you cut off my call at the middle after warning me not to call you again. Though I dived deep into miseries. I did what you wished. And I even didn't expect for the reply of my message where I had wished "Happy Dipawali" to you and your family.

It's okay. I am cool. God has gifted me enough blessings that even if I share it with the entire world I wouldn't fall short of it.

You may be wondering what I would think about you after all this month of your emotional detachment with me. How would I response your surprising "Missed call" in my mobile at the evening hours after the distressful gap of 2 months?

I don't want to lie you today even I can't restrain myself to tell you all the truths. I didn't sleep till 3 am at morning. I felt like my bed is floating in the middle of the ocean and the big monstrous wave is about to swallow me before I would realize that I am thinking deep about you.

There's nothing wrong to think deep about the one whom a person love. Is it? Thinking is my constitutional right even if it is not written in the constitution and loving is my institutional right even if I don't have it in my intuition.

Dear, if you carry good motives and pure heart you can truly be close with anyone at any circumstances. Even the God won't stop you from coming closer to him. You and me constitute that subtle part of God and our body is mere a disintegrating mass of mud. I love your subtle part. Your godly qualities. Not your disintegrating mass.

It isn't necessary that you would trust me with your body as I am not only enchanted by your looks, I wish you would trust me with your soul which I could read closing my books.

I have forgotten my bitter past and memories and now I have embraced my divine present. If you wish to enjoy this divine present with me and carve your meaningful future please come and rejoice the silence of my heart. My heart is open even during holidays.

To tell you the truth I still have that little craziness in me, that poetic quality and feminine care.

Creativity is my wealth. You are my goal and love is my commitment. If you can't accept me the way I am, I  don't have regrets. Just my goal will be changed and I will remain the same.

Love me or hate me,

Frain Chakrit

Dreams

 . . . . . . . Dreams. . . . . . . . . 
Dreams were so heavy
Just my eye lids  couldn't hold
So i woke up at the middle of the night
Amid this chilling cold

It was so intense and penetrating
That dreams made me cry
I sobbed being sober
But dreams made me high

Dreams dropped in from the heaven
Settled in my unconscious
Dreams drowned me in my sleep
I rescued myself being concious

Dreams had a spectre of colors
But it wasn't a colourful dream
Dreams had a pallette of joy
But it was so grave and grim

At one moment it was so illuminating
And at the other moment it was dim
Did my dream forged my mind
Or my mind forged a dream?

If I Wouldn't End Up Loving You

   

If i wouldn't end up loving you
May be i have to hate myself 
For leaving you
If i wouldn't end up loving you
May be i have to hate myself
For deceiving you


Life does matter 
without you
So does you
Without me
May be i have to hate myself
For letting you
                                                                                    May be i have to hate myself
                                                                                    For forgetting you
                                                                                    Only if i wouldn't end up
                                                                                    Loving you
                                                                                    Only if i wouldn't end up loving you
                                                                                                  
                                                                                    -Frain Chakrit


                                                                                 

                     

Miss Rush and Mr.slow

Once upon a time, there was a person named Mr. Slow and he fell in love with a woman named Miss Rush. Miss Rush was a beautiful woman. She always used to be in rush. She was too busy. Mr. slow was a sensitive person. He had lots of thing in his mind. He was relatively slow in everything. His life was going like a snail. He had faced lots of troubles in his early days. Miss rush achieved everything quickly. Her father was rich. She had a nice bungalow and a car. She had a pet named rumi, which was the most expensive pet in town. Mr. slow met Miss Rush at the bus stand. Mr. slow usually misses his bus because he wakes late at morning and sleeps early at evening. He prepares and has his breakfast in a slow pace. He walks slowly. That time also he missed his bus and there came Miss Rush in her shiny car. Miss rush was driving at the top speed but suddenly she had to stop the car due to the traffic jam. Mr. slow bus was far behind even in the jam. It would take him long time to reach there. Here Miss Rush was growing impatient and at the same time, her eyes met with Mr. slow when he was moving his eyes around for the sign of a bus. Miss Rush quickly got off from her car ,came near to Mr. slow and quickly introduced herself and ask Mr. slow to get into her car. Mr. slow was surprised at this but quickly accepted the offer because he was also fascinated by the personality of Miss Rush. And they both got into the car. Miss Rush asked where she would drop him and Mr. slow slowly spoke that he would better be dropped at the Brick way block. As the jam ended, Miss Rush increased her speed but this time traffic caught her and she had to pay fine worth 500 dollars. Mr. slow got late for office while Miss Rush was arguing with the officer. That day both thought of skipping their offices for that day and they went somewhere in a beautiful place. This was a time where Miss Rush had some free time to think and enjoy her life. Mr. slow was also happy to be with Miss Rush because he always used to think himself lonely. Now he felt like he got someone to understand him. That was the day where Miss rush got chance to Know Mr. Slow. They had wonderful time together even it was their first time and both were much unknown to each other. Mr. slow got to know that Miss rush is always busy but he was happy that Miss rush used to call him time and again. Mr. slow started to see dreams. He fell in love with Miss rush. He expressed his love to Miss Rush but Miss Rush seemed reluctant to express her true feelings. Miss Rush stopped calling Mr. slow and she always had a reason that she is too busy to call him. Mr. slow was at deep pain. He always waited for her call because his call was cut and ignored for lots of time. Mr. slow did not have many friends. They used to tease him saying he is too slow to understand what they were doing. Nobody tried to understand Mr. slow what is really in him. He was a creative and kind person. It was Miss rush who raised hope in him to be someone in life because she always used to motivate him that he is a special person. Mr. slow always  used to think that she is the girl with pure heart and his beliefs remained the same until the end.Now Mr. slow started feeling very lonely. Even Miss Rush who once used to care and talk with him started ignoring him piling reasons in his innocent mind. Mr. slow started to think much. He soon became depressed. He became slower in his work and duties. He started talking slowly with people. Some may even did not used to understand what he was saying. Slowly, Mr. slow got detached from the society and his family. He did not had any contact of his friend in his cell phone. Nobody used to remember and care about him. He used to think himself a complete robohuman. He saw his friends updating  their status in face book while travelling to different places with their own group. He saw their photos. He wished he could be there along with them posing in different styles.He scrolled down the pages to put a like but his finger stopped.  Don't know he had in his mind, Mr. slow deactivated his Fb. Then, Mr. slow slowly moved towards the roof of his house. He took a deep long breath and texted Miss Rush.

“Dear Rush I had always tried to catch you but your speed is faster than the bullet. I wonder how your heart would beat. Do you even have time to stop and introspect who you are? If you look into yourself, you may even find me. If not then it is okay. It would be too late to find me even in the real world. One last thing I would like to say you my dear Rush. The biggest and the most expensive gift you can ever give to someone is your time. Thank you for that wonderful moment."

Then Mr. slow lifted both of his feet to the edge. Then he clenched his fist. Looked up in the sky. Afterwards, he offered his body to the air. For the first time in his life, something was happening faster. He was falling down.His whole body got struck to the ground. He slept in his own blood. His eyes were at peace.

What i am searching in Women?

What i am searching in women?
I am searching a part of my mother in her
I am searching part of my sister in her
I am searching part of my best friend in her
I am searching part of my feminine in her
I am searching my missing part in her
I always wonder what a man seeks in women
I seek neither hunger nor thirst in her body
Nor i seek for her conquered soul
Someway i am attached to her
But i don't wish she would be confined in her Gender role
My poems
My Anecdote and stories
All those glittering words
May decorate her body
But how can she cover the nakedness of her soul
with my interlocked words soaked in the ocean's
of this judgmental world?

She is often compared with Art
But how long she would be happy being their part?
Shows are for sometime
When the light fades
and Curtains are closed
They are alone with their shadows
And Tragic make-up magic
Imposed upon their body
Heavy and saggy
Masked beauty
A words of Praise only bestow for sometimes
As the oil of selfish world gets emptied
in the lamp
In no longer illuminates the path of the sacred soul
And the women
Has to travel alone in the darkness
When her pollen is snatched
Eggs are hatched
Then her heart is scratched
convincingly patched

In women i seek nothing
sometime she seems like a void
And sometimes a vast universe
Suspended in the mind of every man
Her body may be the shape of constellations or clouds
Where we see our own Imagination
Women are facts
Nor fiction
Nor fantasy
I don't know what they simply feel about themselves
May be women are not their
Own written history
Her own written history
                    -  Frain Chakrit

A Chair that I Fear

                                       A Chair that I Fear

I had always wished of sitting on a round comfortable chair which would give me a joy of riding in a merry go round. And one day my father fulfilled that wish when I was ogling outside the window inhaling the sweet breeze of air mixed with the charm of the dusk.

“Take it boss, enjoy it!” A blue rotating chair swiftly rolled towards me while my father was standing close to the door smiling. It was a soft cushioned chair with five base assembly and the frictional casters and it had got black arm cap with adjustable seat where one can rest his body and spin or whirl in a desired way. As I placed my beetle body on it I felt excited and pleased that I tied my strong relationship with a chair. It became my choir to sit on the chair and leaf through my books steering it on every corner of the room. Sometimes when nobody was around I used to whirl it until I would feel giddy. I know it was a puerile act but the privilege one can enjoy inside the broad space of one’s one room while spinning and being safeguarded from other’s perception is really hard to attain in our usual time. A person can act or pretend to be anyone or anything in the outside world but inside he always wants to be himself.

Sometimes when my parents would fall asleep, I used to lift that chair tiptoeing upstairs on the terrace to watch the myriad stars shining right over my eyes leaning my body against the flexible back spring of chair. A personal delight and a fear of getting caught at night, gazing at the moon light and slowly falling stars over my sight always used to carry my heart for the miraculous flight but truly my life wasn’t steered like my chair so I always have a fear that someday I would fall like a floating kite.

I often had a hold of my chair that somebody’s weight on it in front of my eyes used to burn my heart into jealousy. I used to feel like the only possession that I had in this world is my chair and I wished nobody would be the heir of my chair. Sometimes my chair used to visit my dream where it used to talk like a real person wishing I would always get attached with it. If my chair would have a real human heart I don’t know what kind of emotions it would hold. May be it would feel my care, my desire and my needs for it.

But the things aren’t always the same. Time changes. Things turn upside down. Same happened with me. The day where the devastating earthquake rattled the whole country and took thousands of lives rendering millions of people homeless, I was sitting on my chair reading newspaper. My parents were outside and I was in home with my chair and as I felt the strong jolt I had to push my chair and run. I just couldn’t notice that I had pushed it so vehemently that it overturned lying prostate on the floor. After I came back when the shock became less intense I lifted it back and saw the sharp bruises over its top. I felt like I had become very rude with the things that always provided me relieving company and comfort. I don’t know how this lifeless being turned into the emotional being that I got the feelings for it as for the people who had lost their loved ones. I know the life of the people can’t be bought back but the chair can be bought again. Poignant emotions diluted in my heart. Mind split. And I felt so guilty for being stupid having feelings for chair which don’t hold any importance for those people who were hugely affected by the quake. After that day I felt like if I have to help people I have to leave and forget my comfort for the well being of others. As I could imagine, those big people of our country who have tethered their pride and prestige on the chair, might have felt the jolt of awakening for their responsibilities towards the country at this crucial moment.

We spent most of our days in makeshift tent and sometimes when I used to enter in my room to fetch my belongings I felt like it is watching me with feeling of disdain and detestation. Once I tried to sit back on it but it gave me a fear of another possible quake .Even at normal times, when I still try to sit on it, my body gets shriveled with fear. I was attached with my chair so deeply that it had a psychological impact on my mind.  It has got spring shock and as I keep my body on it I feel like I am floating on a ship in the middle of the ocean waiting for the big wave to capsize it. I heard that higher authorities of our country has got more comfortable chair in their offices. Do they still feel for their chair or the country? 

Recently I also heard that major political parties are scurrying to form a National coalition Government. Amid this deadly scenario of disaster are they trying to seize the opportunity of being accredited for their work or merely trying to quench their intense thirst for switching power on their hand which had dehydrated them for long.

Now I don’t feel  like my chair is devoid of my affection because the moment I think of those people who have lost their loved one ,I try to foam my emotion comforting my soul  and try to persuade myself that time will change. There will not only be houses but there will be memories retrofitted with love. There will be smiling faces and contended heart slowly marching towards prosperity.

    

Art Of Dying

At what point a person feel like dying? When a person feels much tensed and become completely hopeless or when a person feels so alone and the past memories randomly haunt him/her. Some people may be struggling with cancer or some kind of incurable diseases. Some people have a obsession of thinking. They ruminate over a small issue and end their life because of that. I don’t know how many people had ended their life in this lonely planet but as they did end their life, they had some purposes of doing so.

If you really want to die then let’s not choose a futile death. If you want to die then choose a brave kind of death. Choose a kind of death that will give you a spark of life at every moment you try to jump into it. Die with passion. With utmost compassion. Die for the whole humanity. Die for your country. Die for your passion but don’t die for someone who doesn't give a damn about you. Die for someone who really does care about you. Feel the breeze of death when you try to inhale the breath of life .If you are alone then that’s the biggest gift you have ever received from the divine. You can educate yourself through books. You can listen to your favorite music. Wake up early. See the dawn. Say goodbye to dusk. Be thankful to the sunlight. Love the rain. Go anywhere you like. A single beautiful soul can impart the rare treasure of love and kindness to the world around it. Smile and help people to smile.

Appreciate being alive in an awesome planet. If you are creative that is a great asset you will ever have. Compose poems, paint, and write your heart out. Sing. Dance. Don’t care about what people say or do. Listen to your heart. Make your own choices. Die an awesome accidental death. Like falling from the mountain while hiking. Doing different kind of adventurous sport. If you want to die don’t invite a death at your own cost. Show the death how far you can go with your life.

Talk to the people around you. At your workplace. At school. College. Wherever you are .Provide them a good listening ear. Everybody has something to say. Listen to them. Keep your mind open. Be curious .Seek for knowledge. Everybody has got something. Help someone with the knowledge you earn from someone. If something disappoints you then don’t think much about it. Forgive the one who have hurt you. Don’t be hopeless. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. keep a pet at your house. Talk with them. Play with them. They will ease your stress. You will feel relief.

If you don’t find anyone to share your problems. I am here for you all. I may not be good at counseling. But talking with someone if you feel good then I will be glad to provide you my listening ear and understanding heart.
Thank you for reading. Wish you for your wonderful time.