I try sketching a self portrait in words,
Poetry and art,
Sculpting my own statue out of stone,
Critical and analyzing,
I drive my pen a little too hard,
The brush too far and the chisel too deep,
The words distort and the sculpture suffers,
The portrait stall,
Diffusing distress dwells,
Like a silent veil,
Over the pieces of art,
The soul of literature,
The sound of the chisel,
Suddenly silenced,
The paint brush and pen,
Stopped in their strides,
Pushing the lines of existence,
Of art dissolving into death,
Of life and the freedom to live…
Tuesday 29 December 2009
Drifting Hues
I’m a biker girl who wears no leather,
I’m a gypsy who lies on heather,
With not a frill, fancy or feather,
I’d live in a dungeon or tower,
Far from the noise in fair weather,
I’d drive on waiting for no breather,
High on life and spirits or either…
Cryin on with the winds and water,
I’ll roll into the earth and matter,
Drillin into deep sea like a mad hatter,
Not frettin bout the thinner or fatter,
Thinkin that can’t there be a falter,
For every once there does come a halter…
Laughin on and spinnin all faster,
Flyin high with a petal of aster,
With ain’t no worry or pester,
Me playin at bein my own master,
As funny as a live livin jester,
London or the far Lancaster…
I’m a gypsy who lies on heather,
With not a frill, fancy or feather,
I’d live in a dungeon or tower,
Far from the noise in fair weather,
I’d drive on waiting for no breather,
High on life and spirits or either…
Cryin on with the winds and water,
I’ll roll into the earth and matter,
Drillin into deep sea like a mad hatter,
Not frettin bout the thinner or fatter,
Thinkin that can’t there be a falter,
For every once there does come a halter…
Laughin on and spinnin all faster,
Flyin high with a petal of aster,
With ain’t no worry or pester,
Me playin at bein my own master,
As funny as a live livin jester,
London or the far Lancaster…
Thursday 12 November 2009
Dream Crusher
A cracked ceramic cup,
Leaking trickles of tea,
A splintered chip of wood,
Dug into layers skin deep,
A fractured rock,
Split into two,
A mirror shattered,
Reflections in slivers,
A page in tatters,
Words lost to cuts,
A broken wing,
Flight deferred,
A dream crushed,
Life’s labour lost.
Leaking trickles of tea,
A splintered chip of wood,
Dug into layers skin deep,
A fractured rock,
Split into two,
A mirror shattered,
Reflections in slivers,
A page in tatters,
Words lost to cuts,
A broken wing,
Flight deferred,
A dream crushed,
Life’s labour lost.
Wanton Dreams
Dreams like stray feathers,
Line the window sill,
Drifting with the wafts,
Flying by the wind,
Waiting to drop down,
Softly kissing the ground,
Unbroken, yet incomplete,
Unfulfilled and wanton…
Line the window sill,
Drifting with the wafts,
Flying by the wind,
Waiting to drop down,
Softly kissing the ground,
Unbroken, yet incomplete,
Unfulfilled and wanton…
Beauty and Love
Manifestations of beauty and love
The book I just finished reading was beautiful, The Bonesetter’s Daughter by Amy Tan. There is something I read, that captured my imagination and it was the four manifestations of beauty. With any form of beauty, there are associated abilities.
The first one was competence, the ability to maintain a sense of balance, the same rhythm, the same truth the same charm.
The second was magnificence, this went beyond just skill and its simplicity making it unique, yet magnificent, the beauty of the small, the simple.
The third was divine, the aura of a suggestion rather than a proclamation of what is, an absent object identifiable just because it was missing.
The fourth, beyond even the divine was effortlessness, the ability to fathom natural wonder, a beauty of everything being effortless, a light weightless floating feeling, like a magic carpet beneath the feet.
This made me wonder if it was the beauty of love it spoke about, its manifestation and existence. Just pure bliss and serenity of competence, magnificence, divinity and effortlessness, the four axis’ of love across time and space.
The book I just finished reading was beautiful, The Bonesetter’s Daughter by Amy Tan. There is something I read, that captured my imagination and it was the four manifestations of beauty. With any form of beauty, there are associated abilities.
The first one was competence, the ability to maintain a sense of balance, the same rhythm, the same truth the same charm.
The second was magnificence, this went beyond just skill and its simplicity making it unique, yet magnificent, the beauty of the small, the simple.
The third was divine, the aura of a suggestion rather than a proclamation of what is, an absent object identifiable just because it was missing.
The fourth, beyond even the divine was effortlessness, the ability to fathom natural wonder, a beauty of everything being effortless, a light weightless floating feeling, like a magic carpet beneath the feet.
This made me wonder if it was the beauty of love it spoke about, its manifestation and existence. Just pure bliss and serenity of competence, magnificence, divinity and effortlessness, the four axis’ of love across time and space.
Wednesday 11 November 2009
A Flickering Flare
Is it a flare or flicker? I am still in introspection. Is it the sparkle of a genius or just a passing spark that talent has bestowed? It is there for sure, but in phases, fleeting and transient. Flair, talent, skill, genius so close yet so far apart. I wonder if it’s there somewhere in the corners of the mind, lurking, waiting and biding its time to appear or reappear as in this case maybe.
There are days of dejection, disillusionment and days of absolute nonchalance and discomfiture. I wish the flicker or flare of genius would happen ever so often like a lasting light of some impression to me if not otherwise.
There are thoughts and hopes and fears and there is reality of it all, stemming yet nipping, the constant cycle of strength over lack of confidence and the reassurance that reality alters priority. Who cares? All I need is for it to light up and last in flames not go up in a cloud or fit of blue smoke, Pooufff! Just so easily like that, no way, I will make it last and work it like the coal and embers and then refuel and refill to the lasting day.
My flaming genius that flickers, you shall last and be remembered and reminisced, if I can I will and I must and should.
There are days of dejection, disillusionment and days of absolute nonchalance and discomfiture. I wish the flicker or flare of genius would happen ever so often like a lasting light of some impression to me if not otherwise.
There are thoughts and hopes and fears and there is reality of it all, stemming yet nipping, the constant cycle of strength over lack of confidence and the reassurance that reality alters priority. Who cares? All I need is for it to light up and last in flames not go up in a cloud or fit of blue smoke, Pooufff! Just so easily like that, no way, I will make it last and work it like the coal and embers and then refuel and refill to the lasting day.
My flaming genius that flickers, you shall last and be remembered and reminisced, if I can I will and I must and should.
Wednesday 28 October 2009
Fleeting!
Swoosh said the wind,
Hark said the sea,
Fly on little bird,
Off and away,
Into the blue blue skies,
Away from fleeting time,
Away from dark days,
To peace and to calm.
Hark said the sea,
Fly on little bird,
Off and away,
Into the blue blue skies,
Away from fleeting time,
Away from dark days,
To peace and to calm.
Tuesday 6 October 2009
A Ticking Time Bomb
I didn’t notice the change,
The shadow of pain as it lingered,
I smiled yet again attempting to feign,
A fake happiness pretending,
That life is a ball game and I won.
What is loss or gain I wonder,
Everything is now a dull grey,
The smiles are watery strands,
Of a sorrow running deep,
Blocked in its path and stoppered.
I laugh some more now mocking,
The twists and turns that surface,
I like a time bomb ticking,
Wait for the next big hit,
They come crashing down at once.
Ready for the kill they descend,
Back to back ceaselessly they fall,
They drain me slowly of my strength,
My anger they use to hurt me more,
Watching in glee as I lose yet again.
The shadow of pain as it lingered,
I smiled yet again attempting to feign,
A fake happiness pretending,
That life is a ball game and I won.
What is loss or gain I wonder,
Everything is now a dull grey,
The smiles are watery strands,
Of a sorrow running deep,
Blocked in its path and stoppered.
I laugh some more now mocking,
The twists and turns that surface,
I like a time bomb ticking,
Wait for the next big hit,
They come crashing down at once.
Ready for the kill they descend,
Back to back ceaselessly they fall,
They drain me slowly of my strength,
My anger they use to hurt me more,
Watching in glee as I lose yet again.
Thursday 17 September 2009
Wallows!
One wonders about the ways of the mind. The crazy creation of thoughts. The emotions that flow. There are things you say and things you don't, not even to yourself. This is a make believe world of fake reality. There is nothing good or bad about it, it just plain sucks and I am tired of playing games and asking trick questions. I want some solitude if I can't get what I want.
There is a sense of hopelessness and a cynical irony to the feeling. An indescribable angst that just makes the wallowing in self pity so much cooler.
There is a sense of hopelessness and a cynical irony to the feeling. An indescribable angst that just makes the wallowing in self pity so much cooler.
Wednesday 16 September 2009
Waiting for a Shadow
I am standing,
Precariously perched on the edge,
Ready for the jump,
That will land me,
In the midst of cotton fluff,
Fields of softness and blues.
I slip down the precipice,
To descend into a bliss,
Of unheard of happiness,
That seeks to please,
Complimenting the calm of my world.
There are no boundaries,
No wasted souls in my worlds,
Peerless laughter is all that rings,
In the dense beauty of a paradise,
Created to draw the lines of love.
I sit there in the midst of my colours,
That have painted the walls of a castle,
Waiting and watching for a certain shadow,
To dance in the waters of my stream,
To blend into a unison with me and my world.
Precariously perched on the edge,
Ready for the jump,
That will land me,
In the midst of cotton fluff,
Fields of softness and blues.
I slip down the precipice,
To descend into a bliss,
Of unheard of happiness,
That seeks to please,
Complimenting the calm of my world.
There are no boundaries,
No wasted souls in my worlds,
Peerless laughter is all that rings,
In the dense beauty of a paradise,
Created to draw the lines of love.
I sit there in the midst of my colours,
That have painted the walls of a castle,
Waiting and watching for a certain shadow,
To dance in the waters of my stream,
To blend into a unison with me and my world.
Sunday 13 September 2009
Wonder Blues
Wasted in transit,
I am sitting on a bench,
Drying my tears,
In the blowing wind,
My head heavy, i droop.
The dampness of being,
Engulfs my soul,
Drawing me into depths,
Into unknown hollows,
Wrapped in time.
I thought it could be so,
Or rather that it would,
But the morning,
Is no longer the same,
And the night too cold.
I yearn for some warmth,
I lost a while ago,
So i sit here alone,
Sighing with the wind,
Hoping to find a better day.
I am sitting on a bench,
Drying my tears,
In the blowing wind,
My head heavy, i droop.
The dampness of being,
Engulfs my soul,
Drawing me into depths,
Into unknown hollows,
Wrapped in time.
I thought it could be so,
Or rather that it would,
But the morning,
Is no longer the same,
And the night too cold.
I yearn for some warmth,
I lost a while ago,
So i sit here alone,
Sighing with the wind,
Hoping to find a better day.
Friday 11 September 2009
Wanders
Lost in my own darkness,
I wander fumbling,
Through winding corridors,
Gazing into emptiness…
The walls echoing,
With my empty thoughts,
Bouncing off as echoes,
Hollow and empty in their screams…
Hollering and ranting,
I run amok and astray,
Fleeing inner demons
Desperately trying to find my way…
Stumbling I reach some light,
At the far end of darkness,
I reach out to it and tug myself up,
Back into reality and back in time…
I wander fumbling,
Through winding corridors,
Gazing into emptiness…
The walls echoing,
With my empty thoughts,
Bouncing off as echoes,
Hollow and empty in their screams…
Hollering and ranting,
I run amok and astray,
Fleeing inner demons
Desperately trying to find my way…
Stumbling I reach some light,
At the far end of darkness,
I reach out to it and tug myself up,
Back into reality and back in time…
Folds of Love
I am writing in the winds,
The sky my canvas,
To the open seas,
The endless horizon,
Little words of love,
Sealed with a kiss,
Aglow with a fiery passion,
The words sink,
Into the skies blue cushions,
They from clouds,
Full and desirous,
They float across the open,
Reaching out for ears,
Ears that are waiting far away,
To soak in the caressing words,
That drift his way,
He reads the painted love,
In words etched above,
The tingle of their meaning,
His heart yearning,
Watching and waiting,
For my lips to profess,
The words that I wrote to him,
In life and blood,
He craves to hold,
Me the elusive,
I yield to him at last,
Snuggling into the folds,
Of his divine love.
The sky my canvas,
To the open seas,
The endless horizon,
Little words of love,
Sealed with a kiss,
Aglow with a fiery passion,
The words sink,
Into the skies blue cushions,
They from clouds,
Full and desirous,
They float across the open,
Reaching out for ears,
Ears that are waiting far away,
To soak in the caressing words,
That drift his way,
He reads the painted love,
In words etched above,
The tingle of their meaning,
His heart yearning,
Watching and waiting,
For my lips to profess,
The words that I wrote to him,
In life and blood,
He craves to hold,
Me the elusive,
I yield to him at last,
Snuggling into the folds,
Of his divine love.
Tuesday 8 September 2009
Misty Dreams
There are smiles and sighs,
Laughter and tears,
The world spins on,
Into the wheel of time,
Slowly nearing nothing,
The soul yearns for something,
Bright, shiny and new,
The eyes keep looking,
For the silver lining,
Evading and elusive it fades,
And reappears again,
In another time and space,
Seeking a quest of the soul,
Dragging the mind along,
Covered in misty dreams…
Laughter and tears,
The world spins on,
Into the wheel of time,
Slowly nearing nothing,
The soul yearns for something,
Bright, shiny and new,
The eyes keep looking,
For the silver lining,
Evading and elusive it fades,
And reappears again,
In another time and space,
Seeking a quest of the soul,
Dragging the mind along,
Covered in misty dreams…
Sunday 23 August 2009
Mocking Laughter
I am laughing at myself today, at the way i react to the external world and to the things going on around me. I wonder and think about everything that went wrong and all the things that didn't go right, things that made me the person i am today. I have been hurt beyond measure. I am laughing still. I have so much to say and no words to say it with and no audience to say it to. I am still laughing.
Its ironic, the promises in the past, the ones that broke, the ones that were mended, the ones that were never meant to be kept and the ones that were misjudged. I have swept the dust off the surface, but the specks have left their mark. I look at the refection and smile at the thought of what was then in the past and i laugh at what is now in the present and i laugh at the future. I laugh at the way life has thrown its surprises and challenges. I wish i was as young as i used to be, or maybe as young as i never was.
Its ironic, the promises in the past, the ones that broke, the ones that were mended, the ones that were never meant to be kept and the ones that were misjudged. I have swept the dust off the surface, but the specks have left their mark. I look at the refection and smile at the thought of what was then in the past and i laugh at what is now in the present and i laugh at the future. I laugh at the way life has thrown its surprises and challenges. I wish i was as young as i used to be, or maybe as young as i never was.
Wednesday 19 August 2009
What if…
That is the primary question. But I do not have an answer to that one. I only have a counter question in answer to it. There is no ambiguity or so I had believed, but there are phases of self doubt and pangs of pain. I wish I had the power and the locus of control was within me, but as is the case everything spins off the orbit and goes off command.
I wonder about the ‘what if’s’ and ‘what not’s’ now, in a more delirious, haunting way, like slipping into tiny trances, of suspension. I do not know what the tomorrow holds in the folds of future, but I have control over my reactions in the present. I want to be in the now and stop wondering and fretting about a nonexistent tomorrow. But what if I can’t, now that’s again a what if.
I wonder about the ‘what if’s’ and ‘what not’s’ now, in a more delirious, haunting way, like slipping into tiny trances, of suspension. I do not know what the tomorrow holds in the folds of future, but I have control over my reactions in the present. I want to be in the now and stop wondering and fretting about a nonexistent tomorrow. But what if I can’t, now that’s again a what if.
Faint flush of youth
A sparking peerless smile,
A laughing carefree heart,
Intellect and wisdom,
Split worlds apart,
Threading together a joy,
That seeks nothing but fun,
Light and fluffy life floats on,
Into clouds of freedom,
Everything and everyone,
Painted caricatures of blobs,
Drifting across the mind’s eye,
Like a piece of wood in a storm,
Oblivious and untouched,
Moving slow and fast,
Fretting about trivial things,
All ado about nothing
Passion and anger in turns,
Twisting fate and the soul,
Fighting with sheer angst,
The trials and tribulations of life,
Deepening colours of being,
In a time of ardour and zeal,
Lusting for sinful desires,
In all earnestness from within,
All springing from a state of being,
Of a faint flush called youth.
A laughing carefree heart,
Intellect and wisdom,
Split worlds apart,
Threading together a joy,
That seeks nothing but fun,
Light and fluffy life floats on,
Into clouds of freedom,
Everything and everyone,
Painted caricatures of blobs,
Drifting across the mind’s eye,
Like a piece of wood in a storm,
Oblivious and untouched,
Moving slow and fast,
Fretting about trivial things,
All ado about nothing
Passion and anger in turns,
Twisting fate and the soul,
Fighting with sheer angst,
The trials and tribulations of life,
Deepening colours of being,
In a time of ardour and zeal,
Lusting for sinful desires,
In all earnestness from within,
All springing from a state of being,
Of a faint flush called youth.
E=mc2
Everything is relative; the world is spinning on an orbit around itself and revolving around the sun. But, even that is relative. The whole world runs on relativity.
My truth is relative, the fact that I am chocolate toned is relative, my love is relative, and my laughter is relative. I am relative. My language speaks to yours and my body responds to the relativity. I fade in and out of reality. But, the crux is that even reality is relative.
Something, nothing, everything, anything, all of it is possible at the same time. But what I choose to be in is where I will be and is how I will feel.
It’s a brilliantly intriguing concept and I am living in it, in a state of relativity. Of zero’s and one’s, the question of to be or not to be. Everything an arbitrary question with an answer that is just as relative.
A world of sense and nonsense in perfect harmony, blended into the nothingness of the universe.
My truth is relative, the fact that I am chocolate toned is relative, my love is relative, and my laughter is relative. I am relative. My language speaks to yours and my body responds to the relativity. I fade in and out of reality. But, the crux is that even reality is relative.
Something, nothing, everything, anything, all of it is possible at the same time. But what I choose to be in is where I will be and is how I will feel.
It’s a brilliantly intriguing concept and I am living in it, in a state of relativity. Of zero’s and one’s, the question of to be or not to be. Everything an arbitrary question with an answer that is just as relative.
A world of sense and nonsense in perfect harmony, blended into the nothingness of the universe.
Tuesday 18 August 2009
Stolen
A sheet is missing,
From pages long written,
Hours spent in duress,
To pen the stray thoughts,
That plague the mind’s eye,
Begging to be written,
Losing themselves in a flood,
Of musings and after thoughts,
A torrent of words in tumbles,
So much toil in the sheets,
Written to freeze ideas,
To stop them from eating the dust,
But the page is now lost,
In time’s recesses,
And I am on the hunt,
As I look for the pages,
That have a story to tell.
From pages long written,
Hours spent in duress,
To pen the stray thoughts,
That plague the mind’s eye,
Begging to be written,
Losing themselves in a flood,
Of musings and after thoughts,
A torrent of words in tumbles,
So much toil in the sheets,
Written to freeze ideas,
To stop them from eating the dust,
But the page is now lost,
In time’s recesses,
And I am on the hunt,
As I look for the pages,
That have a story to tell.
Monday 17 August 2009
Living a dream
A tiny little dream,
Tugs me on into worlds,
Unexplored and inviting,
They beckon me in,
I dive into their depths,
Discovering renewed life,
I smile unconsciously,
Their beauty, my inspiration,
Colours and painted rainbows,
Tinkling bells and dancing nymphs,
Laughter echoing in the emptiness,
Caves bathed in stalactite glows,
I walk paths never trodden,
Looking amidst the rushes,
Seeking a secluded space,
Where love and peace watch over,
Where I can bring him and hold him close,
Where I can whisper and scream,
Jump and dance unwatched,
As I confess to him my love,
In a dreamland entirely my own.
Tugs me on into worlds,
Unexplored and inviting,
They beckon me in,
I dive into their depths,
Discovering renewed life,
I smile unconsciously,
Their beauty, my inspiration,
Colours and painted rainbows,
Tinkling bells and dancing nymphs,
Laughter echoing in the emptiness,
Caves bathed in stalactite glows,
I walk paths never trodden,
Looking amidst the rushes,
Seeking a secluded space,
Where love and peace watch over,
Where I can bring him and hold him close,
Where I can whisper and scream,
Jump and dance unwatched,
As I confess to him my love,
In a dreamland entirely my own.
Tuesday 11 August 2009
Odds and evens!
I peer deep into the corners,
Trying to straighten out the folds,
Creases and crevices gone wrong,
Edges all unevenly hewn,
I rake up the insides of it,
Trying to spot the trouble,
I ignore tell tale signs,
I look deeper into the rubble,
Was it there or was it perception,
I try to smooth out odds and evens,
Fathoming the secrets a task mammoth,
I sit by and look deeper still,
I wonder and fret and grow impatient,
I wait in a restless temper,
It does not seem to fix,
I brood on into the night,
Of life and its twists.
Trying to straighten out the folds,
Creases and crevices gone wrong,
Edges all unevenly hewn,
I rake up the insides of it,
Trying to spot the trouble,
I ignore tell tale signs,
I look deeper into the rubble,
Was it there or was it perception,
I try to smooth out odds and evens,
Fathoming the secrets a task mammoth,
I sit by and look deeper still,
I wonder and fret and grow impatient,
I wait in a restless temper,
It does not seem to fix,
I brood on into the night,
Of life and its twists.
Friday 7 August 2009
Its a strange cold!
The air is cold and still. The warmth is not in the comfort of the mattress or in the layers of the quilt. The cold has seeped in through the leaks, all the way to the insides of the heart, It claws its way deeper into the roots of a cozy warmth.
Cold, not a sudden blood rush and goosebumps cold, but a slow slithering cold, drippy and nerve raking. It bites and twirls around the body, a chilling shiver sent down the spine. The cold travels and freezes slowly, like dry ice, like a burst of carbon-di-oxide. I feel every inch of my body go slowly numb. Dragged into stillness by the cold.
Cold, not a sudden blood rush and goosebumps cold, but a slow slithering cold, drippy and nerve raking. It bites and twirls around the body, a chilling shiver sent down the spine. The cold travels and freezes slowly, like dry ice, like a burst of carbon-di-oxide. I feel every inch of my body go slowly numb. Dragged into stillness by the cold.
Let go! Blow it away...
I think of the times i had tiny cotton fluff held between my fingers and let them go. Like slipping them into the air just to watch them drift down softly, to land without a sound, like a soft kiss to the ground.
Everything in this world is like that, like a piece of cotton fluff. People, circumstances, feelings and emotions. Held between fingers, letting go or just blowing it away, every time you hold it, you know you will let go. So watch every thing around you like an outsider, watching the drift of the cotton fluff, on its journey to the floor.
I let go, i watched, i smiled in the knowledge. Happiness is best felt when it is for someone who means the world to you, when they have a reason to be happy and you share in it. Unadulterated joy of knowing what immense happiness is for something that has no impact on you. You just know that someone happy brings you so much joy.
Letting go, is hard. It hurts and screeches and wails, but the wound seals up so soon with the love in the heart. It takes love and courage to let go, to feel that immense state of bliss of watching something go away. Yet your knowing that it was yours and touched you in such a pure way and filled you with a peace so alien, you thought it was a dream.
Some of us journey through life trying to survive and we forget to love and live. The key is in learning to differentiate. From laughter and tears, comes both joy and sorrow. Sift through them and hold on to the smiles, they are worth a lot more tahn you know.
Love is a piece of art that we seldom see and comprehend, all of us have a small piece of this jigsaw of art missing. Some link that is broken or some heartache that lies just beneath the surface. It is natural to feel pain, as natural as it is to love and love heals pain, all of it, slowly and softly, it dwells on in the heart and binds the soul. Blow the pain away, let the sorrow go...
Everything in this world is like that, like a piece of cotton fluff. People, circumstances, feelings and emotions. Held between fingers, letting go or just blowing it away, every time you hold it, you know you will let go. So watch every thing around you like an outsider, watching the drift of the cotton fluff, on its journey to the floor.
I let go, i watched, i smiled in the knowledge. Happiness is best felt when it is for someone who means the world to you, when they have a reason to be happy and you share in it. Unadulterated joy of knowing what immense happiness is for something that has no impact on you. You just know that someone happy brings you so much joy.
Letting go, is hard. It hurts and screeches and wails, but the wound seals up so soon with the love in the heart. It takes love and courage to let go, to feel that immense state of bliss of watching something go away. Yet your knowing that it was yours and touched you in such a pure way and filled you with a peace so alien, you thought it was a dream.
Some of us journey through life trying to survive and we forget to love and live. The key is in learning to differentiate. From laughter and tears, comes both joy and sorrow. Sift through them and hold on to the smiles, they are worth a lot more tahn you know.
Love is a piece of art that we seldom see and comprehend, all of us have a small piece of this jigsaw of art missing. Some link that is broken or some heartache that lies just beneath the surface. It is natural to feel pain, as natural as it is to love and love heals pain, all of it, slowly and softly, it dwells on in the heart and binds the soul. Blow the pain away, let the sorrow go...
Wednesday 5 August 2009
Futile hunt for Inspiration
An aching back and no inspiration; that is the current scenario, my life has two current problems. The aching back has now become an everyday thing something I am getting used to again. The lack of inspiration is more complicated. I miss some people I don’t have in my life anymore; I miss the conversations and the talks. Also, I haven’t met anyone in a long time that is worth being inspired by.
I realized that there are a lot of really nice to really amazing people in my world who deserve love and respect. But, it ends there and does not spill over into a heady inspiration. I think I don’t have anyone in any celebrity lines either that inspire me.
People in general and their ideas and thoughts used to be really inspiring. Now there aren’t too many hitting me. There are people who evoke violent reactions though, pompous asses who believe that they are beyond everyone and they know everything there is and are demi gods to themselves. People who are so opinionated they refuse to acknowledge the fact that other people have opinions too. It is a pathetic thing to feel, this lack of inspiration.
I realized that there are a lot of really nice to really amazing people in my world who deserve love and respect. But, it ends there and does not spill over into a heady inspiration. I think I don’t have anyone in any celebrity lines either that inspire me.
People in general and their ideas and thoughts used to be really inspiring. Now there aren’t too many hitting me. There are people who evoke violent reactions though, pompous asses who believe that they are beyond everyone and they know everything there is and are demi gods to themselves. People who are so opinionated they refuse to acknowledge the fact that other people have opinions too. It is a pathetic thing to feel, this lack of inspiration.
Tuesday 4 August 2009
Light and Airy
There are times when your heart feels light and airy, like you have taken it out and dusted it off all cobwebs and it is fresh and clean. All new perspectives in place, rose tinted glasses adorned, it is a great feeling. All luggage left behind, just a nice little flight on a magic carpet. Slow and easy yet a fascinating adventure.
Somehow, I feel like that today all nice and light and smiley. Like there is room for more madness and that new adventures are knocking on the door. It is truly a wonderful feeling, there is a lightness of being and the soul is contented and peaceful, yet seeking for more. A balance of sorts, that smoothes out the creases in the mind.
I jump and leap and fly to a new high and it is something that is lingering, I just hope it lasts.
Somehow, I feel like that today all nice and light and smiley. Like there is room for more madness and that new adventures are knocking on the door. It is truly a wonderful feeling, there is a lightness of being and the soul is contented and peaceful, yet seeking for more. A balance of sorts, that smoothes out the creases in the mind.
I jump and leap and fly to a new high and it is something that is lingering, I just hope it lasts.
Monday 3 August 2009
Thoughts and Wings
Thoughts like little butterflies,
Flit across the restless mind,
Speeding off on flights to find,
More in the past or future,
To dwell upon and brood,
Others just visiting the bloom,
Of gardens planted yesterday,
Drinking from fountains today,
Darting off on driftwood in a stream,
Targeting views and opinions,
Like fishing with spears and arrows,
Striking the water and letting them swim,
Holding onto nothing just going with the flow,
Splashing with joy at the little waves below,
Tiny little thoughts all let loose,
To make their own journey,
To worlds of promise or doom.
Flit across the restless mind,
Speeding off on flights to find,
More in the past or future,
To dwell upon and brood,
Others just visiting the bloom,
Of gardens planted yesterday,
Drinking from fountains today,
Darting off on driftwood in a stream,
Targeting views and opinions,
Like fishing with spears and arrows,
Striking the water and letting them swim,
Holding onto nothing just going with the flow,
Splashing with joy at the little waves below,
Tiny little thoughts all let loose,
To make their own journey,
To worlds of promise or doom.
Friday 31 July 2009
To Adi, with love
Days spent in squabbles,
Dinners and Lunches,
Laughter and hugs,
Pain and joy shared alike,
For so long now,
It seems to stretch.
Hours spent talking,
Eating and teas,
Walks and water walks,
Work and worklessness,
A gang of siblings,
Living in a bond.
You are leaving now,
For a better tomorrow,
I brought you here,
So long ago,
Now it hurts,
To watch you go.
Dinners and Lunches,
Laughter and hugs,
Pain and joy shared alike,
For so long now,
It seems to stretch.
Hours spent talking,
Eating and teas,
Walks and water walks,
Work and worklessness,
A gang of siblings,
Living in a bond.
You are leaving now,
For a better tomorrow,
I brought you here,
So long ago,
Now it hurts,
To watch you go.
Tuesday 28 July 2009
A quest
A white rose lands in water,
The waves tiny wisps,
Drifting on to the deep,
To a tomorrow,
Bathing in the rays of the sun,
Away from yesterday,
On the stalk,
Now without direction,
No set destination,
Just floating away,
To an unknown destiny,
An adventure calling,
Breaking free from ties,
Of the life gone past,
Blues and Grey,
The ocean sways,
Swells and ebbs,
I glide in the peace,
Off to the sun,
The rose and I,
We slide across the seas,
The moon and stars,
Spectators of the flight,
Into the freedom,
Of a growing calm,
Drift along by my side,
By the rose too,
Join us in a quest,
For the purest independence,
Don’t lose me,
For I am never gone…
The waves tiny wisps,
Drifting on to the deep,
To a tomorrow,
Bathing in the rays of the sun,
Away from yesterday,
On the stalk,
Now without direction,
No set destination,
Just floating away,
To an unknown destiny,
An adventure calling,
Breaking free from ties,
Of the life gone past,
Blues and Grey,
The ocean sways,
Swells and ebbs,
I glide in the peace,
Off to the sun,
The rose and I,
We slide across the seas,
The moon and stars,
Spectators of the flight,
Into the freedom,
Of a growing calm,
Drift along by my side,
By the rose too,
Join us in a quest,
For the purest independence,
Don’t lose me,
For I am never gone…
Damn the Tongue!
I talk nineteen to the dozen; I suffer from a verbal diarrhea of sorts. I have ideas, opinions, thoughts, anger, irritation, and impatience, all of it spilling over in a volley. That is probably why I don’t seem to make sense. I say so much, the value and worth of my words is lost in the volume. I speak fast and sometimes in annoyance, my voice shoots up to beyond tolerable levels. When my mind is racing away at speeds that are unimaginable, my tongue is still stuck with the previous thought and I have jumped again.
I think the fact that I say so much is somehow not a great thing anymore. I am not proud of the fact that I reinvent an idea as I am speaking, or that I keep making additions to thought as my mind travails through various paths.
But when does it strike you as a bad thing, something that never bothered me suddenly seems so irksome. An exasperatingly infuriating aspect to my personality, and not because I think so, but because the world or some people in the world perceive it to be so. A flaw which never even appeared to exist, something that never was a bother, seems like it has turned to a nasty storm.
Just one single time that I have had clarity in my speech. Wow! It feels like such a waste, everything in my head, my thoughts, my feelings, my perceptions, my ideas, all of them seem like such a bloody waste. I feel like a juvenile, I don’t know what.
Imagine, you grow up thinking you have a head screwed on right on your shoulders and pride yourself on the fact that you have an extremely strong personality etched out and you are one of the best turned out human beings you happen to know. This fact being reiterated by everyone in all the circles, personal and professional that you know. When you have been told repeatedly that you are by far the smartest person around and then suddenly there is this statement. That you made sense in just one conversation. Brilliant I must say! What a beautiful blow to my self esteem.
I’m flighty and fickle, my ideas are too many and I am unclear. I have a degree in communications and I have studied literature and science and pride myself on knowing a lot about a lot of things, but it’s time to rethink the ‘me’. Time to wonder what can be done about my obviously flawed personality.
I think the fact that I say so much is somehow not a great thing anymore. I am not proud of the fact that I reinvent an idea as I am speaking, or that I keep making additions to thought as my mind travails through various paths.
But when does it strike you as a bad thing, something that never bothered me suddenly seems so irksome. An exasperatingly infuriating aspect to my personality, and not because I think so, but because the world or some people in the world perceive it to be so. A flaw which never even appeared to exist, something that never was a bother, seems like it has turned to a nasty storm.
Just one single time that I have had clarity in my speech. Wow! It feels like such a waste, everything in my head, my thoughts, my feelings, my perceptions, my ideas, all of them seem like such a bloody waste. I feel like a juvenile, I don’t know what.
Imagine, you grow up thinking you have a head screwed on right on your shoulders and pride yourself on the fact that you have an extremely strong personality etched out and you are one of the best turned out human beings you happen to know. This fact being reiterated by everyone in all the circles, personal and professional that you know. When you have been told repeatedly that you are by far the smartest person around and then suddenly there is this statement. That you made sense in just one conversation. Brilliant I must say! What a beautiful blow to my self esteem.
I’m flighty and fickle, my ideas are too many and I am unclear. I have a degree in communications and I have studied literature and science and pride myself on knowing a lot about a lot of things, but it’s time to rethink the ‘me’. Time to wonder what can be done about my obviously flawed personality.
All's a mess!
It’s horrible, when you can’t do anything about patterns and happenings in life, when everything has to get completely messed up and everyone is irritated and angry for absolutely no fault of yours. There are things and people wreaking enough havoc in life, enough to drive you nuts and then, the audacity to turn unreasonable anger at me.
I have not been working my frustrations off in class, so I guess its building up intensely. I wish I could control every aspect of my life, I could engineer everything to a perfection suited to my liking. But the truth is cruel and I know that this is a never ending cycle.
I have not been working my frustrations off in class, so I guess its building up intensely. I wish I could control every aspect of my life, I could engineer everything to a perfection suited to my liking. But the truth is cruel and I know that this is a never ending cycle.
Rule Breaker
I am amazed at the number of plans and personal principles I have strayed away from in the last few months. I have not lived in so much denial ever. I never thought that I would have to adapt to circumstances that threatened personality changes or that I would be comfortable living life on not my own terms.
The fact that I have altered a pattern I would never change ever, is scary. It is bizarre that I am actually yielding and my thoughts are being influenced to such a degree. I have broken rules beyond pardon to myself and in scrutiny of my own self I am disappointed that I have let myself be. Time for serious introspection, if not amends.
The fact that I have altered a pattern I would never change ever, is scary. It is bizarre that I am actually yielding and my thoughts are being influenced to such a degree. I have broken rules beyond pardon to myself and in scrutiny of my own self I am disappointed that I have let myself be. Time for serious introspection, if not amends.
Monday 20 July 2009
Inbetween Worlds
Yesterday I lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long time, and then I twisted into a fetal ball. I was shuddering and shivering for some strange reason. My body refused the rest it needed desperately. I am conserving emotion I tell myself. I try to think of the nonexistent monsters lurking under my bed. This was a prelude to all the nights to come. In returning insomnia spells, I lay staring up at the ceiling, then a little through the window at the pink sky.
My mind was wandering along passages strangely familiar in contorted alleys. I try to make sense of a falling darkness as it spills into the night wrapping everything in an impenetrable blackness. I feel cornered; stooping low I lie now in wait, in a land between sleep and wakefulness. Senses suspended, I slip finally into a restless slumber, relieved that I am now asleep.
My mind was wandering along passages strangely familiar in contorted alleys. I try to make sense of a falling darkness as it spills into the night wrapping everything in an impenetrable blackness. I feel cornered; stooping low I lie now in wait, in a land between sleep and wakefulness. Senses suspended, I slip finally into a restless slumber, relieved that I am now asleep.
Wednesday 8 July 2009
I'll sail into his arms
I’ll sail away into the sunset,
I’ll never come back here,
I’ll sail into seas and sands,
Of enticing faraway lands.
I’ll sing loudly to the waves,
Compete with the gulls,
Screaming in joyous glee,
I’ll hold onto the tide,
Drifting with the currents,
I’ll fly on the surf and jump,
I’ll dance with the dolphins,
Play with the whales and sharks,
I’ll tumble in the oceans depths,
I’ll walk on the sun’s lit path,
I’ll walk till I reach the kiss,
Of the sun and sea at the horizon,
I’ll laugh and frolic with the storms,
I’ll ride into islands of beautiful fronds,
I’ll blend into one with the blue blue ocean,
And sleep in his wide open arms…
I’ll never come back here,
I’ll sail into seas and sands,
Of enticing faraway lands.
I’ll sing loudly to the waves,
Compete with the gulls,
Screaming in joyous glee,
I’ll hold onto the tide,
Drifting with the currents,
I’ll fly on the surf and jump,
I’ll dance with the dolphins,
Play with the whales and sharks,
I’ll tumble in the oceans depths,
I’ll walk on the sun’s lit path,
I’ll walk till I reach the kiss,
Of the sun and sea at the horizon,
I’ll laugh and frolic with the storms,
I’ll ride into islands of beautiful fronds,
I’ll blend into one with the blue blue ocean,
And sleep in his wide open arms…
Monday 6 July 2009
Mocking!
In this upside down world,
There is nothing normal,
Nothing real, everything is fake,
Facades put on for impressions.
Walk the streets for a while,
You will see sights that chill you,
Suck out your energy and your smiles,
Like the Dementor's kiss.
You rot away in your shell,
Spilling out your intellect,
Unnoticed for what you are,
Criticized for who you are.
I laugh and mock the stupid uns,
That walk and cry and are on the run,
From themselves and from their lives,
I only sit and watch the fun...
There is nothing normal,
Nothing real, everything is fake,
Facades put on for impressions.
Walk the streets for a while,
You will see sights that chill you,
Suck out your energy and your smiles,
Like the Dementor's kiss.
You rot away in your shell,
Spilling out your intellect,
Unnoticed for what you are,
Criticized for who you are.
I laugh and mock the stupid uns,
That walk and cry and are on the run,
From themselves and from their lives,
I only sit and watch the fun...
Thursday 2 July 2009
Fate's Cackling Laugh!
Fate plays a cruel game I said,
No I don’t she retorted,
We argued and tussled,
Crazed and angry we fought,
Macbeth’s witches seemed lovely,
Compared to our evil laughs…
The tempest was at hand,
I had to get onto the Grand,
And fly far away to another land,
She followed suit to tell me,
I should get the darned boot,
From life and death and life’s soot.
Kill me, I urged her on,
She cackled and laughed again,
And I grimacing looked on…
Fate I thought was beautiful,
This monster looked so awful.
In her will to win a nonexistent fight…
I laughed aloud in telling her so,
The fight was on but not quite like,
The way she thought would be right,
I fight you off or at least I try,
So I can be my own puppeteer,
Fate, you can go find someone else…
I live by my own rules and decrees,
Make my choices, the wrong ones too,
You dare not pick on me afresh,
Or I will pass by unawares,
Ignoring and sliding past afar,
Away from your dance of destiny…
No I don’t she retorted,
We argued and tussled,
Crazed and angry we fought,
Macbeth’s witches seemed lovely,
Compared to our evil laughs…
The tempest was at hand,
I had to get onto the Grand,
And fly far away to another land,
She followed suit to tell me,
I should get the darned boot,
From life and death and life’s soot.
Kill me, I urged her on,
She cackled and laughed again,
And I grimacing looked on…
Fate I thought was beautiful,
This monster looked so awful.
In her will to win a nonexistent fight…
I laughed aloud in telling her so,
The fight was on but not quite like,
The way she thought would be right,
I fight you off or at least I try,
So I can be my own puppeteer,
Fate, you can go find someone else…
I live by my own rules and decrees,
Make my choices, the wrong ones too,
You dare not pick on me afresh,
Or I will pass by unawares,
Ignoring and sliding past afar,
Away from your dance of destiny…
Tuesday 30 June 2009
Wistful Longing...
I lie here wrapped in a sheet,
By the window as the rain descends,
In clamoring torrents beating down,
Wondering why a darkening gloom,
Envelopes my soul and the room,
I think of times when the rain beckoned,
And I ran into her sinewy arms,
Jumping and dancing to the rhythm,
Of the loud pattering raindrops,
The breeze blends into one with the soul,
Awakening desires from another world,
Times when laughter mingled with thunder,
And the body was kissed by the gushing water,
The earth all wet, fragrant and green,
The sky all angry and grey with longing,
In love forever but never together,
They sway to the tunes of a love so intense,
I drift into reveries of them as I watch the rain,
She dances in answer to my cries,
I think of yesterdays and better tomorrows,
But now all I do is lie in wait,
For that fateful day to come and call,
When my soul can blend in again with the rain,
Easing off me this unending pain…
By the window as the rain descends,
In clamoring torrents beating down,
Wondering why a darkening gloom,
Envelopes my soul and the room,
I think of times when the rain beckoned,
And I ran into her sinewy arms,
Jumping and dancing to the rhythm,
Of the loud pattering raindrops,
The breeze blends into one with the soul,
Awakening desires from another world,
Times when laughter mingled with thunder,
And the body was kissed by the gushing water,
The earth all wet, fragrant and green,
The sky all angry and grey with longing,
In love forever but never together,
They sway to the tunes of a love so intense,
I drift into reveries of them as I watch the rain,
She dances in answer to my cries,
I think of yesterdays and better tomorrows,
But now all I do is lie in wait,
For that fateful day to come and call,
When my soul can blend in again with the rain,
Easing off me this unending pain…
Dark Mists
What is sorrow? What is pain?
When you are left all alone,
To feel all this in vain,
The anger you divulge into,
Only stirs storms of disdain…
In the still calmness of tonight,
I wonder how and I wonder why,
I am left so lonely and wistful,
Why I think of days gone by,
With the little hint of a sad sigh…
I know now why I am so alone,
Because of a certain knowledge known,
Of conversations stuck in space,
Of a timelessness only love creates,
Now I see the reason why…
Colours fade and fireflies die,
Beginnings end and ends begin,
Before you can even say goodbye,
A dark mist hangs hovering by,
Marring images from the eye…
What was then now is not,
What you want is not what you got,
But maybe it is well deserved, this pain,
Of not knowing how to feign,
Happiness when sad..
Smiles through unshed tears,
Of so many days gone by in fear,
So I droop and wilt,
Knowing I will never be,
The laughing, mad, little old me…
When you are left all alone,
To feel all this in vain,
The anger you divulge into,
Only stirs storms of disdain…
In the still calmness of tonight,
I wonder how and I wonder why,
I am left so lonely and wistful,
Why I think of days gone by,
With the little hint of a sad sigh…
I know now why I am so alone,
Because of a certain knowledge known,
Of conversations stuck in space,
Of a timelessness only love creates,
Now I see the reason why…
Colours fade and fireflies die,
Beginnings end and ends begin,
Before you can even say goodbye,
A dark mist hangs hovering by,
Marring images from the eye…
What was then now is not,
What you want is not what you got,
But maybe it is well deserved, this pain,
Of not knowing how to feign,
Happiness when sad..
Smiles through unshed tears,
Of so many days gone by in fear,
So I droop and wilt,
Knowing I will never be,
The laughing, mad, little old me…
Facade
A smile I muster,
With my heart cringing,
Surrendering to an angst,
How alone and lonely I am now,
Only I can concede to,
The pain grows on me,
The fits of anger become me,
I despise myself for things,
I have done and undone,
I spare no self pity or sympathy,
I deal with myself now,
With an alien hand,
I don’t feel or breathe,
Easily anymore,
Even tears refuse to yield,
Unnerved and despairing I squirm,
In an existence futile,
A pathetic excuse of a life,
Hysteria and mocking laughter lurk,
Just under the surface
Waiting to pounce,
At the slightest incite,
A tempestuous mix of emotions,
Pushing the borders of insanity,
I wait for a darkness that eludes,
And evades my beckoning calls,
To enter a hollow emptiness,
Where everything is numb,
Feeling and emotion alike,
I want to plummet down,
Into a deep slumber,
To stop it all at once,
This cycle of pain,
And the waves of fatigue,
Succumb to it all,
And perish at once…
With my heart cringing,
Surrendering to an angst,
How alone and lonely I am now,
Only I can concede to,
The pain grows on me,
The fits of anger become me,
I despise myself for things,
I have done and undone,
I spare no self pity or sympathy,
I deal with myself now,
With an alien hand,
I don’t feel or breathe,
Easily anymore,
Even tears refuse to yield,
Unnerved and despairing I squirm,
In an existence futile,
A pathetic excuse of a life,
Hysteria and mocking laughter lurk,
Just under the surface
Waiting to pounce,
At the slightest incite,
A tempestuous mix of emotions,
Pushing the borders of insanity,
I wait for a darkness that eludes,
And evades my beckoning calls,
To enter a hollow emptiness,
Where everything is numb,
Feeling and emotion alike,
I want to plummet down,
Into a deep slumber,
To stop it all at once,
This cycle of pain,
And the waves of fatigue,
Succumb to it all,
And perish at once…
Monday 15 June 2009
The Rain and Our Teardrops
Teardrops prick the eyes,
Refusing to break away,
From the walls binding them,
Holding them in softly,
Disappearing into a sea,
Swallowed by pride…
The anger and pain,
Subside in swells, ebbing,
A blend of the sorrow surfaces,
Eats into the soul, gnawing,
At wounds that sting on touch,
Yet the tears fight the battle…
They stop at the corners,
Not trickling down for want,
Of tears that roll down cheeks,
They mock at the pain,
Which threatens to peek,
Out of bounds and fixed realms…
I sit by the window,
Staring into the rain,
Our sister that dwelt in the sky,
The raindrops that once bathed us,
The clouds we stood under,
My empty side looks for you…
I remember the times we wept,
The days we sat reading,
As our tears mixed into the words,
And our words melted into pain,
As we discovered the ways of the world,
Sunshine and star dust a part of us…
Now as you weep far far away,
As you lie on your back,
With the tears rolling down,
To the back of your head,
That is filled with thoughts,
I am dragged back in time…
To an era that was ours,
And I feel a relief spreading,
It washes down a pain with you,
As you weep, you cry for me,
You drag my tears and yours,
Out of you, out of us…
I wish I could sit again by your side now,
Crying with you in an angst,
Our angst, only known to us,
With our misery merging into one,
Letting me cry with you,
As I learn how to weep again…
Refusing to break away,
From the walls binding them,
Holding them in softly,
Disappearing into a sea,
Swallowed by pride…
The anger and pain,
Subside in swells, ebbing,
A blend of the sorrow surfaces,
Eats into the soul, gnawing,
At wounds that sting on touch,
Yet the tears fight the battle…
They stop at the corners,
Not trickling down for want,
Of tears that roll down cheeks,
They mock at the pain,
Which threatens to peek,
Out of bounds and fixed realms…
I sit by the window,
Staring into the rain,
Our sister that dwelt in the sky,
The raindrops that once bathed us,
The clouds we stood under,
My empty side looks for you…
I remember the times we wept,
The days we sat reading,
As our tears mixed into the words,
And our words melted into pain,
As we discovered the ways of the world,
Sunshine and star dust a part of us…
Now as you weep far far away,
As you lie on your back,
With the tears rolling down,
To the back of your head,
That is filled with thoughts,
I am dragged back in time…
To an era that was ours,
And I feel a relief spreading,
It washes down a pain with you,
As you weep, you cry for me,
You drag my tears and yours,
Out of you, out of us…
I wish I could sit again by your side now,
Crying with you in an angst,
Our angst, only known to us,
With our misery merging into one,
Letting me cry with you,
As I learn how to weep again…
The Flip Side
There are times when you want to dig your feet deep into the sand and not budge or move a single inch. When you want to rebel for the tiniest of things and refuse to listen to anyone else but your own little self. You want to be the only person dictating terms. When life is played by rules set on standards and principles you have set for your own self, when you have designed the game of your life and set it to your tune, it is impossible to accommodate an order by advice.
I have never paid an ounce of heed to advice even when it is given by people that actually matter and are giving it out of concern. I have not been a rebel in the actual sense of the word, but in introspection I never really listened to anyone. I just did as I pleased and if I had to keep the information to myself, lest it trouble the people around me, I did that too.
The idea was not ever to upset the feelings of anyone involved, it had nothing to do with that at all. It was just the inability to accept that I should do as I am told. It’s a desire to do exactly the opposite of what I am told to do. The desire to leave every single strand of anything holding me back, to break away and take off by myself on my own flight, into the adventurous unknowns.
To take liberation in its right spirit and to be free of all constraints. To do exactly as I please and to act and live like my life were my own. That democracy and free will are pathetic excuses for a life of adjusting mediocrity, and that I had to adjust to the norms set by an institution or a society just bothered me. I did manage to do just that, fight it all off and live on my terms.
And now the flip side…
When it is a factor or an enemy that fights you, you can fight back and rebel. I had absolute confidence in that aspect of my abilities and strengths. What I did not ever anticipate was the unknown enemy, I forgot to take life itself into consideration, that I was not on the same side of life, although I was never fighting it, Life was the factor I could not rebel, it was a continuum of time and space and there was no one I could tackle or rebel against, it was a dance that was pre ordained and the rhythms were set, I had to dance and move on to the next phase or I had to give up and lose the whole game of life altogether. I grew up a little wiser, knowing that I can fight off anyone, as long as it was an entity, but I was helpless when it came to life and the way she decided to lead me… So I stayed and danced, remembering not to fight off life’s decisions, my own ugly phantoms, the past, the future or death... I learned to accept and I learned to live…
I have never paid an ounce of heed to advice even when it is given by people that actually matter and are giving it out of concern. I have not been a rebel in the actual sense of the word, but in introspection I never really listened to anyone. I just did as I pleased and if I had to keep the information to myself, lest it trouble the people around me, I did that too.
The idea was not ever to upset the feelings of anyone involved, it had nothing to do with that at all. It was just the inability to accept that I should do as I am told. It’s a desire to do exactly the opposite of what I am told to do. The desire to leave every single strand of anything holding me back, to break away and take off by myself on my own flight, into the adventurous unknowns.
To take liberation in its right spirit and to be free of all constraints. To do exactly as I please and to act and live like my life were my own. That democracy and free will are pathetic excuses for a life of adjusting mediocrity, and that I had to adjust to the norms set by an institution or a society just bothered me. I did manage to do just that, fight it all off and live on my terms.
And now the flip side…
When it is a factor or an enemy that fights you, you can fight back and rebel. I had absolute confidence in that aspect of my abilities and strengths. What I did not ever anticipate was the unknown enemy, I forgot to take life itself into consideration, that I was not on the same side of life, although I was never fighting it, Life was the factor I could not rebel, it was a continuum of time and space and there was no one I could tackle or rebel against, it was a dance that was pre ordained and the rhythms were set, I had to dance and move on to the next phase or I had to give up and lose the whole game of life altogether. I grew up a little wiser, knowing that I can fight off anyone, as long as it was an entity, but I was helpless when it came to life and the way she decided to lead me… So I stayed and danced, remembering not to fight off life’s decisions, my own ugly phantoms, the past, the future or death... I learned to accept and I learned to live…
Tuesday 2 June 2009
The Deathly Killer
When everyday life becomes a strife,
A constant struggle to survive,
When even little joys are snatched from you,
When everything is drained of its truth,
When shadows dance upon your death,
When evil laughs bring you doom,
When the head is dull with the ache of the heart,
And the soul is wasting with the loss of minds,
When you waste away till the dawn of the end,
When all above and all below is rendered empty,
When the calm of stillness freezes the soul,
When the desire to kill overpowers all,
Yielding to the moment of temptation,
To end it all, erase it all, finish it all…
A constant struggle to survive,
When even little joys are snatched from you,
When everything is drained of its truth,
When shadows dance upon your death,
When evil laughs bring you doom,
When the head is dull with the ache of the heart,
And the soul is wasting with the loss of minds,
When you waste away till the dawn of the end,
When all above and all below is rendered empty,
When the calm of stillness freezes the soul,
When the desire to kill overpowers all,
Yielding to the moment of temptation,
To end it all, erase it all, finish it all…
Twists and Turns
The twists and turns on one piece of land,
Darkness lit up with beams of light,
Long sips from glasses,
Laced with ice,
The thump of music in the throat,
The throb of the ear to rhythm,
Skirts twirling to the beat,
Gyrations moving with heat,
Tripping on highs and grooving to the grind,
Bodies growing wild,
With adrenaline pumping highs,
Flashes of techno and trance,
In a night club on a floor for dance…
Darkness lit up with beams of light,
Long sips from glasses,
Laced with ice,
The thump of music in the throat,
The throb of the ear to rhythm,
Skirts twirling to the beat,
Gyrations moving with heat,
Tripping on highs and grooving to the grind,
Bodies growing wild,
With adrenaline pumping highs,
Flashes of techno and trance,
In a night club on a floor for dance…
Thursday 21 May 2009
Tuesday 19 May 2009
Links to my life
I feel older, serious, stiff necked, I think my madness is shifting focus, the bigger things are taking up my time and attention and I am panicking. I wonder how well age catches up, things change perspective and colours change hues.
I was wondering what made me feel this way, disgruntled and unhappy, in a way incomplete even. It came to thinking of things I haven’t done in a really long time:
Torn up paper into tiny little bits and blown them out into the wind, just to watch them flit and flutter and fly with the breeze…
Danced nonstop, oblivious to the world and people watching me. Danced, till my legs hurt in their high heels and sweat dripped down my body, till my breath felt like it was wedged deep inside me and refused to surface.
Jumped in every little rain puddle and got drenched as the rain pelted down and hit every square inch of my body.
Laughed at silly jokes till tears rolled down my cheeks and I rolled on the floor holding my aching sides and trying to stop till I could no longer move with laughter cramps.
Played with little dew drops as they clung to leaves and surfaces and watched them glisten in the sunlight. Shaking up trees after the rains so all the raindrops would fall onto me.
Opened out my arms wide and spun around in full speed till I was dizzy and it felt like the whole world was reeling and spinning and I was the only stationary object around.
Lazed and did nothing for days on end, just reading, watching old cricket matches for the umpteenth time, watching all sorts of movies on HBO and Star Movies, dreaming on my swing as I watched the sky aimlessly.
Star gazed till dawn lying on my tank on the terrace as I followed Orion and Great Dipper on their journeys across the universe.
Gone swimming to far off resorts and farms and dipped and played in the water and swum around till the sun came down.
Climbed trees and trekked across impossible cliffs and mountains discovering beauty with every branch and every curve in the roads I made for myself.
Taken off alone into a park with a book and sat under the whispering trees in the breeze and reading as I fell in love with the characters and authors who filled up my imaginary worlds.
Tripped on air. Chased the rain, Jumped in sand pits, baked mud pies, and all these things that I wish I could do right away and instantly gratify my desire to reclaim a life that has passed swiftly by…
I was wondering what made me feel this way, disgruntled and unhappy, in a way incomplete even. It came to thinking of things I haven’t done in a really long time:
Torn up paper into tiny little bits and blown them out into the wind, just to watch them flit and flutter and fly with the breeze…
Danced nonstop, oblivious to the world and people watching me. Danced, till my legs hurt in their high heels and sweat dripped down my body, till my breath felt like it was wedged deep inside me and refused to surface.
Jumped in every little rain puddle and got drenched as the rain pelted down and hit every square inch of my body.
Laughed at silly jokes till tears rolled down my cheeks and I rolled on the floor holding my aching sides and trying to stop till I could no longer move with laughter cramps.
Played with little dew drops as they clung to leaves and surfaces and watched them glisten in the sunlight. Shaking up trees after the rains so all the raindrops would fall onto me.
Opened out my arms wide and spun around in full speed till I was dizzy and it felt like the whole world was reeling and spinning and I was the only stationary object around.
Lazed and did nothing for days on end, just reading, watching old cricket matches for the umpteenth time, watching all sorts of movies on HBO and Star Movies, dreaming on my swing as I watched the sky aimlessly.
Star gazed till dawn lying on my tank on the terrace as I followed Orion and Great Dipper on their journeys across the universe.
Gone swimming to far off resorts and farms and dipped and played in the water and swum around till the sun came down.
Climbed trees and trekked across impossible cliffs and mountains discovering beauty with every branch and every curve in the roads I made for myself.
Taken off alone into a park with a book and sat under the whispering trees in the breeze and reading as I fell in love with the characters and authors who filled up my imaginary worlds.
Tripped on air. Chased the rain, Jumped in sand pits, baked mud pies, and all these things that I wish I could do right away and instantly gratify my desire to reclaim a life that has passed swiftly by…
Wednesday 13 May 2009
Morning Wafts
The wafting morning coffee smells
Whispers and memories from beyond time,
Hanging in little clouds overhead,
Careless gestures flung into the blend,
Parting curtains filtering sunrays,
Stretches and tugs,
Snuggles and pillow fights,
Of morning awakenings in the light,
Sleep stupors slipping into the eyes,
Vague and vivid dreams fight to surface,
The mind all groggy opens slowly wide,
Lets in the sunshine,
Of yet another morning, warm or cold,
Rising to the hope of day…
Whispers and memories from beyond time,
Hanging in little clouds overhead,
Careless gestures flung into the blend,
Parting curtains filtering sunrays,
Stretches and tugs,
Snuggles and pillow fights,
Of morning awakenings in the light,
Sleep stupors slipping into the eyes,
Vague and vivid dreams fight to surface,
The mind all groggy opens slowly wide,
Lets in the sunshine,
Of yet another morning, warm or cold,
Rising to the hope of day…
Stuck!
Thoughts wander to yesterdays and tomorrows and they linger on moments that light up like a flame from the past. Things, sounds, sights, feelings… Memories. Carved into niches of time. Distilled and double distilled and coloured by the mind and perception.
What happened to me will never be yours or anyone else’s; it is as unique to me as I am to the world. I feel and behave and think and remember only like I do. When the mind wanders, it plays games of hide and seek, light and darkness.
A simple rickshaw ride can bring a volley of moments and memories rushing into the mind. Every second we live we associate to the past and to the external present. The beauty of thoughts is that they blend and flow and melt. Into tiny crevices of your mind and the mind sees it all in parallel processes and universes.
I have lived every moment over several times. The moment is still and static. We change and move and alter. All there is is the one moment stuck in time and we live one moment in life over and over again, till the last breath. One single moment. Nothing before nothing beyond.
What happened to me will never be yours or anyone else’s; it is as unique to me as I am to the world. I feel and behave and think and remember only like I do. When the mind wanders, it plays games of hide and seek, light and darkness.
A simple rickshaw ride can bring a volley of moments and memories rushing into the mind. Every second we live we associate to the past and to the external present. The beauty of thoughts is that they blend and flow and melt. Into tiny crevices of your mind and the mind sees it all in parallel processes and universes.
I have lived every moment over several times. The moment is still and static. We change and move and alter. All there is is the one moment stuck in time and we live one moment in life over and over again, till the last breath. One single moment. Nothing before nothing beyond.
"The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock"
"Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table"
I have said and lived these lines so many times over I don't even remember the first time i read them. Ironic, something that left such a lasting impression on me and i don't remember when i read it.
Alfred and his love, the way its portrayed is just absolutely brilliant.
I lived Eliot and loved every word of his Wasteland also. I heard him read it out loud in his voice and it left marks on my mind.
I have delved deep into it and breathed it and felt it and it has stayed with me.
Let us go then, you and I :)
The evening awaits...
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table"
I have said and lived these lines so many times over I don't even remember the first time i read them. Ironic, something that left such a lasting impression on me and i don't remember when i read it.
Alfred and his love, the way its portrayed is just absolutely brilliant.
I lived Eliot and loved every word of his Wasteland also. I heard him read it out loud in his voice and it left marks on my mind.
I have delved deep into it and breathed it and felt it and it has stayed with me.
Let us go then, you and I :)
The evening awaits...
Tuesday 5 May 2009
Alzheimers
I sit on a throne,
In a land of dreamers,
I sit restlessly still,
I forget how I felt
When I last wept,
How the tears rolled,
Washing down the pain,
In scattering torrents,
Rebelling attempts to ease…
I forget how I felt,
To be alone, lonely, tired,
Wanting to speak volumes,
But words failing me,
As I sat alone with my angst,
Its pain and sadness,
My only company…
I forget how I felt,
Brooding and dwelling,
On thoughts refusing to clear,
A sigh of deep regret,
For all that I had done,
Of thorns and nails strewn,
Across my life’s battlefield,
I forget how it felt,
I remember but I forget,
All of it an Alzheimer haze.
In a land of dreamers,
I sit restlessly still,
I forget how I felt
When I last wept,
How the tears rolled,
Washing down the pain,
In scattering torrents,
Rebelling attempts to ease…
I forget how I felt,
To be alone, lonely, tired,
Wanting to speak volumes,
But words failing me,
As I sat alone with my angst,
Its pain and sadness,
My only company…
I forget how I felt,
Brooding and dwelling,
On thoughts refusing to clear,
A sigh of deep regret,
For all that I had done,
Of thorns and nails strewn,
Across my life’s battlefield,
I forget how it felt,
I remember but I forget,
All of it an Alzheimer haze.
Sunday 3 May 2009
Bad Taste
Dark eerie silences that rip though,
Gnawing deep into painful recesses,
Oblivious to everything and everyone,
meaningless, still in pursuit of questions,
Lingering, unanswered clawing ones,
Hanging in the stillness of the air,
Orphaned by the answers that refuse to surface,
Silences that are walls, blocking even light,
Blank mundane boring replies and walls,
mocking the very essence of love,
Impatience laughing at thought,
Jeering and bemused with life,
The twists and turns of winding passages,
Horrid empty echoes of forced normalcy,
Silences that kill, one cell at a time,
Devouring love and joy,
Leaving a bad taste in your soul…
Gnawing deep into painful recesses,
Oblivious to everything and everyone,
meaningless, still in pursuit of questions,
Lingering, unanswered clawing ones,
Hanging in the stillness of the air,
Orphaned by the answers that refuse to surface,
Silences that are walls, blocking even light,
Blank mundane boring replies and walls,
mocking the very essence of love,
Impatience laughing at thought,
Jeering and bemused with life,
The twists and turns of winding passages,
Horrid empty echoes of forced normalcy,
Silences that kill, one cell at a time,
Devouring love and joy,
Leaving a bad taste in your soul…
Wednesday 29 April 2009
Incomplete
Every single time it happens,
A walk in, a smile, a look, a talk…
Enough to strike a chord in the heart,
Conversations that seem so true and pure,
Heart to hearts that keep the smiles up,
Time loses all meaning and slows down,
Screeching to a standstill of non coherence,
Equivocating the past and the future,
Seems like a divine connect of souls,
Sharing the wildest of dreams,
Craziest of thoughts and mad moments,
Watching the sunsets and dawns,
The moon and the beautiful joys of nature,
They sneak in and stay, never forever but,
Sharpen your wits and prepare your soul,
What comes in goes out, nothing stays on,
Taking with them a part of you,
Walking away with a piece of your soul,
Leaving you incomplete and hurt.
A walk in, a smile, a look, a talk…
Enough to strike a chord in the heart,
Conversations that seem so true and pure,
Heart to hearts that keep the smiles up,
Time loses all meaning and slows down,
Screeching to a standstill of non coherence,
Equivocating the past and the future,
Seems like a divine connect of souls,
Sharing the wildest of dreams,
Craziest of thoughts and mad moments,
Watching the sunsets and dawns,
The moon and the beautiful joys of nature,
They sneak in and stay, never forever but,
Sharpen your wits and prepare your soul,
What comes in goes out, nothing stays on,
Taking with them a part of you,
Walking away with a piece of your soul,
Leaving you incomplete and hurt.
Time Bubbles
Unrelenting to pressures,
From the past or the future,
Frozen in the present,
Counting down seconds…
Sun kissed and bathed in time,
Suspended in little hollows,
Interspersed with the universe,
Living in an encapsulated bubble…
Fleeting flawlessly in flight,
Laughing frivolously at life,
Devoid of darkness and cold,
Brimming with opportunities,
From another world…
Tempting the impossible,
Grazing boundaries and limits,
Lifting off from reality,
Into mirages and dreams,
Coloured by the lights of dawn,
Tapping to the rhythms of joy,
Pure, peerless pleasure,
Words slip into incoherence,
Playing mind games,
Everything spins off orbits,
And the world changes course,
The moment is all that exists,
Nothing before and nothing beyond,
Just that second stuck in time…
From the past or the future,
Frozen in the present,
Counting down seconds…
Sun kissed and bathed in time,
Suspended in little hollows,
Interspersed with the universe,
Living in an encapsulated bubble…
Fleeting flawlessly in flight,
Laughing frivolously at life,
Devoid of darkness and cold,
Brimming with opportunities,
From another world…
Tempting the impossible,
Grazing boundaries and limits,
Lifting off from reality,
Into mirages and dreams,
Coloured by the lights of dawn,
Tapping to the rhythms of joy,
Pure, peerless pleasure,
Words slip into incoherence,
Playing mind games,
Everything spins off orbits,
And the world changes course,
The moment is all that exists,
Nothing before and nothing beyond,
Just that second stuck in time…
Sunday 12 April 2009
Brakes and Breaks
Sometimes you want to break off into the unknown, away from the real world. Where everything seems to come in shapes and sizes that are not comprehendible and small little things confuse you. The mind plays games of what to see and what not to dwell on. Everything becomes a myriad mix of vague and vivid images that dart in the spaces of the soul. This is so amazingly mixed up and there is no pattern to the madness of the dreariness and futility you feel after.
After what? Now, that would be the most logical question that follows. But did madness ever adhere to logic or practicality? Technically no one is mad until stated to be so or studied and then confirmed as an insane individual. But we are always stuck on the verge. The thin line between madness and sanity, one small push and you will land up in la-la land.
After nothing. Because after you reach the stage of after there is nothing. Everything you have left behind just becomes a standstill image from your past. Images that are strung together and played in the head with a constant rewind and forward pattern, or images that are pushed so far into the back alleys of the mind and are forced to be left that way. Untouched and trying hard to forget and reach a state of no reminiscences. A state where no matter how hard you try you cannot remember the entirety because you have chosen to dole out the thoughts and images tied to that memory. A state of unconsciousness, even unconscious of the struggles we undergo to forget the past.
We often believe the truth to be a fact. But the truth never is a fact. Far from it actually. The truth is what we make each one of our selves believe what the fact is. We all perceive differently so truth with this one factor becomes relative to each and every individual. We build our personal truths based on our opinions and the way we chose to respond to a certain activity that occurred in our lifetime. The only real truth is that there is no one single truth. The truth is as varied as we are.
It’s a mind warp. This state of believing and non-believing. It is in a sense as unreal as reality. The more I see into reality, the more I see the opportunity of alternate reality. Of parallel universes and of real things being as unreal as they are real and vice versa. So the deal ia there is no absolutes, there is no single truth, there is no real reality, everything is a projection of time spinning away and the universe continuing to be balanced in an unexplainable equilibrium.
After what? Now, that would be the most logical question that follows. But did madness ever adhere to logic or practicality? Technically no one is mad until stated to be so or studied and then confirmed as an insane individual. But we are always stuck on the verge. The thin line between madness and sanity, one small push and you will land up in la-la land.
After nothing. Because after you reach the stage of after there is nothing. Everything you have left behind just becomes a standstill image from your past. Images that are strung together and played in the head with a constant rewind and forward pattern, or images that are pushed so far into the back alleys of the mind and are forced to be left that way. Untouched and trying hard to forget and reach a state of no reminiscences. A state where no matter how hard you try you cannot remember the entirety because you have chosen to dole out the thoughts and images tied to that memory. A state of unconsciousness, even unconscious of the struggles we undergo to forget the past.
We often believe the truth to be a fact. But the truth never is a fact. Far from it actually. The truth is what we make each one of our selves believe what the fact is. We all perceive differently so truth with this one factor becomes relative to each and every individual. We build our personal truths based on our opinions and the way we chose to respond to a certain activity that occurred in our lifetime. The only real truth is that there is no one single truth. The truth is as varied as we are.
It’s a mind warp. This state of believing and non-believing. It is in a sense as unreal as reality. The more I see into reality, the more I see the opportunity of alternate reality. Of parallel universes and of real things being as unreal as they are real and vice versa. So the deal ia there is no absolutes, there is no single truth, there is no real reality, everything is a projection of time spinning away and the universe continuing to be balanced in an unexplainable equilibrium.
Wednesday 8 April 2009
25 Things
I have been reading a lot about these 25 things. I haven’t gotten down to penning mine down yet. But there is something more pressing at the moment now:
25 things to watch out for:
My tryst with the Kitchen
If you thought that dealing with incompetent people was the last straw, think again! Welcome to the land of living vegetables and non living utensils. Veggies don’t pay any heed to you or your deadlines, you have to bow down to them and go by their rules, or its game over! As for utensils, beware they are like ghosts from your past, they might just sense your fear and strike at it! Next thing you know you have all clanking and noises as they are strewn all over, not coz you dropped them but because they decided to fall, just to get back at you.
Do not be obsessive compulsive, every speck every oil stain will give you nightmares forever and also you will end up spending so much time washing up, you will never leave!
Oh! Don’t wring your hands after you wash them into the floor, or you will end up cleaning and mopping the floor.
Do not wipe your hands on either sides of your dress, over the years all your clothes that you wore to the kitchen will have a very obvious designer look to it, designed by your wiping.
I wash and wipe my hands every five minutes when I am in the kitchen, it does not help, and the next minute it goes all messy again. At the end of it you are left with grazed, skin peeling, burning, and rough hands as opposed to the nicely creamed and soft glowing ones you possessed before your tryst with the kitchen.
Do not over load a mixer ever! The results of such a mishap can be ghastly.
Deserts are less hot as compared to the kitchen and cooking by the fire. Dress accordingly, just an apron won’t help if you are accident prone, it will only scorch your skin faster!
Onions are very very pungent and will not only make your eyes water like crazy but you can tell if someone cut onions weeks ago by the amazingly horrendous odour it leaves on the hands no matter what goes on after that. Oh and they are supposed to be aphrodisiacs, and this is not something I learnt in the kitchen ;)
Lick your hands if you are making fruit salad. As in finish one round of cutting up one fruit and lick. Wash, cut, lick… Now that’s the mantra for yummy feelings between meal times and fruit times. Pop dates into your mouth as you cut them up and add them, lick. Lick your hands after you have shredded the chocolate into the mix, Lick up the ice cream after most of it has gone into the fruit concoction! You might add weight to the waist line, but what the heck! The kitchen drains one and saps one of their energy you see!
The enzymatic activity in vegetables is so fast, they race to go rotten! So beware of when you got them and where you put them or you will have to deal with the stench.
Water takes a looong time to start boiling and potatoes take even longer to be fully boiled.
Fix leaks on the taps you don’t want to be in a flooded kitchen.
Cover all traces and tracks of the existence of food, or rats, roaches and other pests may get to it or into your house because of the kind of food there.
Do not use your thumbnail to cut through anything, if you do be prepared for excruciating pain, I will feel like the nail is coming off.
And the reason there are only 15 things here is because I took a break from venturing into the kitchen! Phew!
25 things to watch out for:
My tryst with the Kitchen
If you thought that dealing with incompetent people was the last straw, think again! Welcome to the land of living vegetables and non living utensils. Veggies don’t pay any heed to you or your deadlines, you have to bow down to them and go by their rules, or its game over! As for utensils, beware they are like ghosts from your past, they might just sense your fear and strike at it! Next thing you know you have all clanking and noises as they are strewn all over, not coz you dropped them but because they decided to fall, just to get back at you.
Do not be obsessive compulsive, every speck every oil stain will give you nightmares forever and also you will end up spending so much time washing up, you will never leave!
Oh! Don’t wring your hands after you wash them into the floor, or you will end up cleaning and mopping the floor.
Do not wipe your hands on either sides of your dress, over the years all your clothes that you wore to the kitchen will have a very obvious designer look to it, designed by your wiping.
I wash and wipe my hands every five minutes when I am in the kitchen, it does not help, and the next minute it goes all messy again. At the end of it you are left with grazed, skin peeling, burning, and rough hands as opposed to the nicely creamed and soft glowing ones you possessed before your tryst with the kitchen.
Do not over load a mixer ever! The results of such a mishap can be ghastly.
Deserts are less hot as compared to the kitchen and cooking by the fire. Dress accordingly, just an apron won’t help if you are accident prone, it will only scorch your skin faster!
Onions are very very pungent and will not only make your eyes water like crazy but you can tell if someone cut onions weeks ago by the amazingly horrendous odour it leaves on the hands no matter what goes on after that. Oh and they are supposed to be aphrodisiacs, and this is not something I learnt in the kitchen ;)
Lick your hands if you are making fruit salad. As in finish one round of cutting up one fruit and lick. Wash, cut, lick… Now that’s the mantra for yummy feelings between meal times and fruit times. Pop dates into your mouth as you cut them up and add them, lick. Lick your hands after you have shredded the chocolate into the mix, Lick up the ice cream after most of it has gone into the fruit concoction! You might add weight to the waist line, but what the heck! The kitchen drains one and saps one of their energy you see!
The enzymatic activity in vegetables is so fast, they race to go rotten! So beware of when you got them and where you put them or you will have to deal with the stench.
Water takes a looong time to start boiling and potatoes take even longer to be fully boiled.
Fix leaks on the taps you don’t want to be in a flooded kitchen.
Cover all traces and tracks of the existence of food, or rats, roaches and other pests may get to it or into your house because of the kind of food there.
Do not use your thumbnail to cut through anything, if you do be prepared for excruciating pain, I will feel like the nail is coming off.
And the reason there are only 15 things here is because I took a break from venturing into the kitchen! Phew!
Misconception
We live in a world of a myriad web of misconceptions. They stem from rumors, gossip, hasty judgments the works. Everyday everything is misconstrued and blown if not out of proportion, blown beyond repair and recognition.
We hear and we decide and pass judgments about things that w have no control over. We base knowledge on other people’s perspectives and we see the world the way it is presented to us. Not the way it appears to us, but the way we see it, through the eyes and ears of others.
It is easy to say I know it all, I have been there and done that! But no one ever has done anything anyone else has ever done. You can only do and feel what you have chosen to do and feel. You can never step in reality into another’s shoes.
How can you trust the words of people over reality? People who apparently have no plausible connection to the reality. People who are nosey busy bodies and think it is in their interest and it is their business to keep a tab on the rest of mankind. What do they think they are doing? A favour? Yeah Right! It seems absurd. But that seems to be the way of the world.
We choose to make judgments based on opinions and perceptions, not based on original individual thought and action. We are so caught up in the web of desire to talk about other people, their clothes, their love interests, their choice of food, the way they behave, we even grudge people their happiness and their individuality.
What a tangled web we weave, when we first choose to deceive! We weave the web and we deceive, yes, but we do that to ourselves not to anyone else. We live n a world of self depreciation and pitiful gossip. Not because that is the way it is but because that’s the way we have chosen to make it.
We hear and we decide and pass judgments about things that w have no control over. We base knowledge on other people’s perspectives and we see the world the way it is presented to us. Not the way it appears to us, but the way we see it, through the eyes and ears of others.
It is easy to say I know it all, I have been there and done that! But no one ever has done anything anyone else has ever done. You can only do and feel what you have chosen to do and feel. You can never step in reality into another’s shoes.
How can you trust the words of people over reality? People who apparently have no plausible connection to the reality. People who are nosey busy bodies and think it is in their interest and it is their business to keep a tab on the rest of mankind. What do they think they are doing? A favour? Yeah Right! It seems absurd. But that seems to be the way of the world.
We choose to make judgments based on opinions and perceptions, not based on original individual thought and action. We are so caught up in the web of desire to talk about other people, their clothes, their love interests, their choice of food, the way they behave, we even grudge people their happiness and their individuality.
What a tangled web we weave, when we first choose to deceive! We weave the web and we deceive, yes, but we do that to ourselves not to anyone else. We live n a world of self depreciation and pitiful gossip. Not because that is the way it is but because that’s the way we have chosen to make it.
Tuesday 7 April 2009
Pain, the next level.
Pain is interestingly refreshing. It adds perspective. Those fuzzy blurred lines in the horizon that come into focus, like readjusting the zoom of your camera lens. The complete sync in mind body and soul is something you can’t ignore to see. If your head hurts it could be very well because of all the crazy stress. If your heart aches it could be because of a love thing. If you are mind f***ed, it could be because of a pain in your body.
We are so connected in the 6 human basics, as I choose to call them. The intellect, the mind, the heart, the body, the soul and the spirit. The blend is so perfect, that a small imbalance in one can have a skyrocketing impact on the others. It is amazing how we work. How it huts and how the pain sinks in. Slowly eating into the very essence of being, of existence, of life.
It creeps in, going up a few notches every second and then turns the body mind and soul into a burning edifice. It starts from anywhere and ends at anything. It could begin in your toes and climb up or it could start in your brain and eat into your insides. The fact being, how will you fight it? How will you fight a pain? Was pain designed to be fought? You can escape it, yes, there are escape routes, pain killers and drugs to dullen it. But can you avoid it? Can you side step it or ignore it?
Try to endure pain, try to block it, try to ignore it, try to smother it, try to embrace it, no matter what you do, it gets the better of you. It drives you to suicide, to death, to craving for an end to it. It is the hopeless state, one of sheer helplessness. What can one do? One is a mere spectator in the dance led by life and directed by pain, choreographed with sheer excellence enough to leave you baffled at the ways it works.
It leaves you with scars of experience that are scorching in the least. Experience of something that is so personal that no one else beyond the boundaries of your skin and mind can ever fathom. Pain is something that you can never share. You cannot make a person understand or feel the pain you feel. The pain that leaves you shaken and wise to the ways of parallel realities. No one can ever take pain away from you. It is solely yours to do what you please.
In pain all you can do is live one moment at a time and breathe hoping that you will forget the last moment and the moments to come with more pain promised. Every waking hour or even in sleep you pine away for a peace you knew existed before the pain hit you and knocked you cold. Knocked you cold of feeling and sensation of happiness and peace, now so alien, you forget what it felt like.
After a while you learn to live with it, you endure it and you slowly embrace it. You become pregnant with pain. A mixed bag of feelings. It gets addictive. If you have a painless moment you miss it. It is like the smell of perfume or odours, after a while you don’t realize. It is still there, it is still persisting, but you have gotten so used to it, you don’t sense it. It becomes a part of you, like your appendix, or maybe like your lungs or your pancreas. You don’t realize it’s a part of you until it changes. Yes, even pain is subject to change. It is inter - convertible. One pain can be converted to another. From a mind ache to a body ache to a soul ache to a spirit ache, and finally the ache of death.
Yes, the ache of death and dying, the ache of leaving behind, even undressing the garments of life, love and pain. The sheer ache of not existing in mortal boundaries, not feeling. Then there is the ache of calmness.
From birth to death, pain teaches to live and to fight your own battles. To learn to live with it. To tolerate and exist. So the next time it hurts, embrace it, its pain teaching the lessons of life and death.
Till death removes pain...
We are so connected in the 6 human basics, as I choose to call them. The intellect, the mind, the heart, the body, the soul and the spirit. The blend is so perfect, that a small imbalance in one can have a skyrocketing impact on the others. It is amazing how we work. How it huts and how the pain sinks in. Slowly eating into the very essence of being, of existence, of life.
It creeps in, going up a few notches every second and then turns the body mind and soul into a burning edifice. It starts from anywhere and ends at anything. It could begin in your toes and climb up or it could start in your brain and eat into your insides. The fact being, how will you fight it? How will you fight a pain? Was pain designed to be fought? You can escape it, yes, there are escape routes, pain killers and drugs to dullen it. But can you avoid it? Can you side step it or ignore it?
Try to endure pain, try to block it, try to ignore it, try to smother it, try to embrace it, no matter what you do, it gets the better of you. It drives you to suicide, to death, to craving for an end to it. It is the hopeless state, one of sheer helplessness. What can one do? One is a mere spectator in the dance led by life and directed by pain, choreographed with sheer excellence enough to leave you baffled at the ways it works.
It leaves you with scars of experience that are scorching in the least. Experience of something that is so personal that no one else beyond the boundaries of your skin and mind can ever fathom. Pain is something that you can never share. You cannot make a person understand or feel the pain you feel. The pain that leaves you shaken and wise to the ways of parallel realities. No one can ever take pain away from you. It is solely yours to do what you please.
In pain all you can do is live one moment at a time and breathe hoping that you will forget the last moment and the moments to come with more pain promised. Every waking hour or even in sleep you pine away for a peace you knew existed before the pain hit you and knocked you cold. Knocked you cold of feeling and sensation of happiness and peace, now so alien, you forget what it felt like.
After a while you learn to live with it, you endure it and you slowly embrace it. You become pregnant with pain. A mixed bag of feelings. It gets addictive. If you have a painless moment you miss it. It is like the smell of perfume or odours, after a while you don’t realize. It is still there, it is still persisting, but you have gotten so used to it, you don’t sense it. It becomes a part of you, like your appendix, or maybe like your lungs or your pancreas. You don’t realize it’s a part of you until it changes. Yes, even pain is subject to change. It is inter - convertible. One pain can be converted to another. From a mind ache to a body ache to a soul ache to a spirit ache, and finally the ache of death.
Yes, the ache of death and dying, the ache of leaving behind, even undressing the garments of life, love and pain. The sheer ache of not existing in mortal boundaries, not feeling. Then there is the ache of calmness.
From birth to death, pain teaches to live and to fight your own battles. To learn to live with it. To tolerate and exist. So the next time it hurts, embrace it, its pain teaching the lessons of life and death.
Till death removes pain...
Fear and its twisted ways!
What is fear? Is it this gnawing emotional reaction to the threat of a looming danger or is it the threat of pain. Pain of the third kind, whatever! When is it you are afraid? When does your heart beat a little faster and you sweat? Is it normal to react to fear normally?
Enter a room with the knowledge that you are signing up for voluntary pain of whatever kind. Emotional, Mental, Physical, Spiritual… Everything around you slows down. Sluggishly almost. Every second takes longer if that’s possible. Everything around you is imprinted in your mind.
It’s not like the fear of the dark or of closed spaces or of marshmallows, these are phobias and the last one at that is called Althaiophobia. It is not like the fear of being mugged or being followed, it’s beyond all that. It’s the fear of what you are going to do with yourself after this fear. The fear of never to be erased scars. Scars that will remind you of the fear and scars that will hold you to the thoughts that have plagued you from the moment you gained the knowledge. The fear of knowing. Butterflies in the stomach because of anxiety, nervousness and stress. How much will you intellectualize? How much of strength will you give yourself?
Looking back it may all be over and done with. But what about the feelings that are tucked away? So scary to even be shared. Its crazy, its killing. It’s the fear of knowing the unknown and the undeserved. The fear of a punishment for sins that you might have unknowingly committed. What will you do with this fear?
There is no end to it. It is a swirling vortex of unknowns. There is no turning back or moving forward. There is only the one choice of staying put and watching how this fear will twist and turn and contort and mutate to something else, prettier or scarier, who’s to tell? Life may move on beyond the fear but you will always get a glimpse of it around every street corner, in every mirror, in every reflection. Never to be released from the clutches of the greater fear! The fear of fear itself!
And the best part is no one will ever know…
Enter a room with the knowledge that you are signing up for voluntary pain of whatever kind. Emotional, Mental, Physical, Spiritual… Everything around you slows down. Sluggishly almost. Every second takes longer if that’s possible. Everything around you is imprinted in your mind.
It’s not like the fear of the dark or of closed spaces or of marshmallows, these are phobias and the last one at that is called Althaiophobia. It is not like the fear of being mugged or being followed, it’s beyond all that. It’s the fear of what you are going to do with yourself after this fear. The fear of never to be erased scars. Scars that will remind you of the fear and scars that will hold you to the thoughts that have plagued you from the moment you gained the knowledge. The fear of knowing. Butterflies in the stomach because of anxiety, nervousness and stress. How much will you intellectualize? How much of strength will you give yourself?
Looking back it may all be over and done with. But what about the feelings that are tucked away? So scary to even be shared. Its crazy, its killing. It’s the fear of knowing the unknown and the undeserved. The fear of a punishment for sins that you might have unknowingly committed. What will you do with this fear?
There is no end to it. It is a swirling vortex of unknowns. There is no turning back or moving forward. There is only the one choice of staying put and watching how this fear will twist and turn and contort and mutate to something else, prettier or scarier, who’s to tell? Life may move on beyond the fear but you will always get a glimpse of it around every street corner, in every mirror, in every reflection. Never to be released from the clutches of the greater fear! The fear of fear itself!
And the best part is no one will ever know…
Friday 27 February 2009
Grey
A blotch of grease,
A sheet of rain,
Graymalkin, the cat…
The river at night,
The sky at dawn,
Greygoose, the vodka…
Steely dull metal,
Shadows of the dark,
Grey cells of intellect…
The winter frost,
The graphite rods,
Gray Lady, New York Times…
The deep eyes,
The dark forests.
Alien Humanoid Grey’s…
Dull needle tips,
Electronic microchips,
Elves and Goblins dressed in grey…
Rocks and snow capped mountains,
Dust and ashes,
A greyhound’s howl…
Pencil squiggles on paper white,
Sandy beaches in the evening light,
Grey’s Anatomy, Star World’s right…
Blacks and Whites,
A blended blur,
Now all grey, for lack of colour!
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