“Change is like the water slipping in through the tunnels to the fields, without change there ain’t going to be any harvest!”
A child sits amidst the dust, asbestos, rubble
Eyes sunk into self.. yet wide and devoid of the tremors of death brewing within..
To be born into a life wielding no power,
But the love rendered by the womb and palm of the protector..
And at a sudden instant swept into smoke and fire,blood splattered of the power he knew..
Can one feel what that child does? A wait for god he once knew and had..
A shell of dark fear, dread, turmoil, torn life asphyxiates the beating heart…
And child chokes within.. clinging to nothing..
Suffering from plague inflicted by the cacodemons, men on his land..
Their horrendous misogynistic hunger for blithe innocence..
Draining the pulp of life and reveling in the numb pain diffused in the air..
The helios of hope brutally shred.. flesh from bones..And yet not a tear shed..
For none are left to touch.. none can touch his moment…
From my window I see the rays flit through the blinds..
Their intensity simmered by the glass shield..
I see a sight peaceful.. sodden warmth,
The light breeze like music.. as the leaves flutter to its tune..
Sparrows titter.. shuffle between the green symphony..
I hear not… but eyes watch the music..as though notes scripted in the moments..
As though soft silence speaks.. spelling solace and hope..
Almost unreal.. The winds carry not a smear of pain..
The pain for the flow of the nature’s elements is null..
Or maybe it feels pain.. in the bloodied water and coagulate breath.
But not here.. its uncannily calm for a world trifled and drowning in pain..
Its a surreal, eerie balance that soothes not the heart..
Burden of pain outweighs the mass of solace..
There is no one to beat you..no one to defeat you ,except the thoughts of your self feeling bad.. Words of song by bob Dylan.
I have tried to imbibe these but have failed quite a few times…passed, but failed too.. I try to express that somehow.. how much ever I strive to be a lone wolf .. man needs man.. and feelings can not be fought.. only felt and past.. and in the end we do feel the same.. and that itself binds us together however alone we might feel..
Like in the jungle book:The strength of the pack is the wolf…and the strength of the wolf is the pack.
Bad for self.. about self.. feeling guilt.. remorse..
The red and black bitter serum..
how much can one fill in a jar..
the brim would be nudged..and then taken over..
mind control is a daring game..
ain’t for all..
but a subtle and slow manipulation of self…
Like gripping the wheel and steering the ship…
as gusts of wind blow and waves topple over one another.
but how do u know which mind to save yourself from and which mind to embrace..
Yet a master captain.. fosters a crew.. a family..
Bound by trust…
None can steer alone..
When living the days on thy own deck…
wading through waters that surround every eye raving the sea..
And resting at foreign ports..
One stands hand in hand.. shoulder to shoulder with a comrades by side..
I try to slash away the doubts.. I try to right my wrongs..
Yet I falter always..
But I shall hope that my comrades are by my side..
Desert a myriad of breathing sand..
Morsels sinking into one another..
Minuscule particles in friction.. yet in synchronized turbulence…
What I feel,you feel… as I am, you are..at different turn we take with winds…
Sand in solidarity would be of what essence? If not a bound to the desert?
Was the desert born as a whole? Does sand give meaning to the desert or desert to the sand?
sand derives its purpose from the desert.. from the dunes.. from the clusters..
So does man.. friend I say not in desperation but in my wishful way..
That man needs man.. And I need your shoulder and your warm friction and vibrant turbulence my friend..
A grey sheath of stagnant silence…
Dissolution into the surreal flow of night..
Punctured..embellished by the notion of time..
Rioting mind muses on..
Only the tick-tock of a mundane clock..
Piercing, distracting.. the still flow..
Ripples of time.. penetrating the mum..
The curve of a ripple postulates a moment..
The tick enunciating the bend..a crisp of time..
As life strolls in the direction unknown..
And shreds life into the passage past..
Like the leaves of deciduous tree..
Speaks through the crumpling murmurs of it..with it..it the mind..
The mind.. voices pivoting into their own helix..
It wonders..saunters into realms unbound..
“How can time be still, flow and yet wither away?”
A dimensionless entity.. like the surreal night..
Only absorbed and imprinted on the mind..
The burden we call love could easily be hate..
The need to be needed.. the want to be wanted..
The fetal position of the grieving soul..
The penchant for ownership of the soul..
Too weary to follow.. too old to know where it is to be.. where it is to summon itself, to its home?
The haughty madam beneath the simpleton..Prays to avenge her pride..
Ain’t she a felon herself?
The girl who pounced in her father’s arms..prays to be set free..
The laughter that kindled her eyes.. the soft lines of nifty smile..
Muffled and ironed beneath the pains of frightful wars fought in her heart…
In the end when bones brittle crumple.. and flesh melts..
The hearts surge with combative pain..
Left are two souls lost.. facing walls grounded on either sides..
The mirror reflecting the ugliness of it all..
In thy own eyes.. the glass shows black..
Pride is harrowing in the pits its own dungeons..
Ohh.. the depths of ditches we dive into..
The sins we commit in the name of love..
Sinful of hateful acts towards self.. and then towards the other..
What is love but a roped..tangled path..
Curious pull.. one strolls and then the moments dribble away..
One is siphoned..tipsy into another Moonlit forest.. another home…
Aren’t you lost yet?
Where do you turn when the bridges you built are trampled upon..
Fallen beneath the sea of distance…
When human made altercations.. distractions.. steal the good.. gnarl it from your grasp..
Turn away from home.. to find that you have none..
And only the dungeons and pits.. fraught with felons of your heart..
Where shall you find your freedom now?
Who shall row you back to the haven you once knew?
How shall thee save thyself from distraught nature of thy heart?
Where shall thee find thy home.. thy solace and salvation?
Hi all.. bit of a long post..a few thoughts about living without infringement of artificial devices.. about hope:)
Device to creation
The glare of the machines, ain’t it piercing your eyes..?
Ain’t your brain mewling in puddles yet?
Or is it numb.. Static.. Too hefty for reception of candid natural frequencies..
The titter in your back pocket, The rings of banter…glib chatter..
Moments lost with the mind in the cloud.. watching the creations through a lens..glued unto itself
Looking at expressions in loosely connected words of others… through the machines..just looking
Do you not want to express? Do you not want to leave yourself behind in the dust.. Become the morsels.. Feel the friction..
Galvanize with those expressions?
The cloud .. Ain’t it suckling on the juices of thy mind.. transmitting posed moments about the world seen not..
The square shaped device.. all the heart has to say and mind has to spawn ..spilled into it..hopes of another catching a whiff..
Aren’t you a device yet? Mind glazed, buttons rickety?
4 thick walls… a glass window… And knots in your heart..
None to drown your evenings with..
None to delve deeper with, wander around with on trails of thoughts..
Lonesome.. unlearnt and deaf to the sound of the life created as it was..
Music of the Life thee was created into.. melancholy and gay.. yet riveting and arousing..
There is none of that now.. The time has spindled back..
Roll back… daze into a time before it all..
Resting in a shack.. Skin to skin with the earth.. blinking at the day from the window of thy soul..
At the foot of the hills dressed in clouds.. Tresses grey.. White..in a whirlwind..
Clouds like typhoon around the sun.. sauntering around the mountains at its mundane pace..
Stroll miles along the slippery path…lush green hedges..
Drenched Muddied path.. Water seeps through pores from nowhere..
Rough boulders piled in heaps..purple weeds peaking from amidst…
Gusts of wind.. Tinge of salt in the airs..Climb atop… To the breathless expanse befriending the horizon..
The eyes meet salvation in such formidable yet unhinged nature..
The brazenly beautiful sight of the ocean..
Somber Waves Caressing the sand..
Feisty waters rising , crashing until called back to the ocean.. It’s true home..
Muffled laughter of lads savoring their freedom..mingled with lull of the sea..
Maidens gay with laughter.. Women soaking the sun… cajoling their dumplings..
Chattering of their lives.. some mellow.. some shelving the sorrows in their eyes..
Yet all in their hearts.. knowing the pain of the other.. glowing in the happiness of the other..
Ain’t thy heart alive.. Almost as though thy first breath is relived every passing minute..
Mind hungry.. And yet free from shackles.. Clinging to nothing..
Breathing just as thee is.. In soothing harmony with the ensembles of the Jarring beauty..
Filled with hope… Ain’t your heart smiling into you? Almost as though your long time mate.. Closest confidant..
Thy is Feasting on the simplicity… yet the unbridled truth of creation that engulfs thee..
If thee sauntered into the fields of imagination.. Or swung with the true ripples of nature..
The parchment waiting.. for the spill of secrets you unearth from the day..
Would be inked with the vibrant freedom that thy mind is engrossed in.
Lost and found you are , as you was.. One with the permeating nature of glorious creation.
Parasites fowling the heart..
Down with fever.. a friend is lost in the bouts of anger.
Words sting.. yet apologies are never rendered..
Mind ain’t numb.. its an unforgiving wreck.. growling of nonsensical scenarios..
Its motto, I never understood.. it tames the buried demons..
Who is to blame for the tears that strain the mind.. the eyes that trust none..?
The will-less childish heart.. an ego that barges open wounds..?
Or the man..the friend who pledged to be by thy side.. but falters now and then..?
Human heart and its follies..
A self image that casts a shadow of narcissistic caveats on thy disposition..
When must the “I” disappear? when must it save thy soul?
Can it suffer in silence as the parasite nudges and slithers hissing at the door..
Can it dissolve its misogynistic ruckus.. oblige the good monk who seeks solace..
It would do either..but which? who shall choose? The “I”, the mind, the heart?
Aren’t the three the same.. or are they?
I knew the sound of your laughter.. but not the words that made it so..
I knew the smile that lit those eyes.. but never the harmonic lines that touched thy heart..
I see the agitation in thee soul.. never have I seen the venom in thee eyes..
Never will I know the sins that ignite thy rage..
Never will I know the sound of the baritone in harshness ..
I see the colours that drape around you..
Yet never from your tongue will I hear of how they infatuate you..
I see your eyes light up in beauty.. yet I see not the beauty from your eyes..
I see hints of desolation in thee soul..
Yet I shan’t ever soothe the airs within, touch the scalded flesh..
I wish my words could dance on the curves of your smile and echo in your laughter..
I wish your rage I could swallow in the bosom of my barren soul..
I wish I could whisper to you at night.. sing to your abyss.. so might it echo with soft hopes.. joyous banter..
I wish your words.. your thoughts the world to hear..
I wish thee eyes to sparkle with candid childish elation..
You are a wish.. A star farther than mine to be..
Your presence in my memories brushes the moist corners on my soul..
I give you up…for you are a wish.. unwritten for me..
And I have wished a long foregone wish..
P.S: I was looking through my drafts from the time wasn’t really blogging and came across this.. Thought it was something I could share..:)
Is there a divide between noon and night..
A switch at a blink from illuminated to gulping blackness..
It’s a crest and trough..
One slopes into the other..
And even the light, it frames shadows.. casting into itself..
And darkness is luminous..Stars and moon adoring it..
Aren’t they two brothers, At dusk and dawn one brother embraces the other….
Light fades into its shadows… and the darkness pans into land and breeze..
Even as the moon seeks parting for moments into the clouds
Turning its back on us every fortnight..
Yet the dark in those times is blistered by winking lights..
Which side is wrong and which is right?
Are the two ever apart? Does light ever truly leave the dark and dark, the light?
Can man confirm his bondage to right selfless?..
Ain’t the truth mutable, driven by shades of human desires,
Which right must he choose and which truth must he drape his days with?
Is the light the true right, harmless in intention,
And does it speak all the truth..or only its own ?
And the dark, the brother, shameless, without any truth of its own?