Uglier beautiful mankind

31 Jul

How much intellectually illiterate and how much jubilant about that
How much culturally shamed and how much glorified
How much colorfully blank and how happy
How much uglier with lack of emotions and how beautifully satisfied
How much deprived of facts and how unaware about it
How much unruly in behavior and how much pride around it
How insensitive about being sensitive
How dry with flood of emotions
How much aggressive about being loud
How much thoughtful about being a big crowd
How much irresponsible with mountain full of power
How much blind with light so dark
How much ashamed of values of life
How much ignorant of valleys, flowers and it’s kinds
How much impatient of showing some patience some care
How much in race of journey that requires stand still some glare
How much blank for pages full of writing
How much shut to conversation full of sightings
How much aware of information not important at all
How much unaware of when nature takes a toll
How much short in front of dwarfed self esteem
How much a ruler of rules even when just a merge thief
How much unorganized, dissatisfied, discourteous, disoriented and disgraced
How much not so thankful, not so acknowledging, not so much for actual fun and flare
How much ruthless about being mankind
How much an animal in race of human and then survive



29 Jul

When the events of the day leave with bags full of your energy, so much so that typing a few words of daily experience appears to be a scuffle- you know you worked dense. That is when you need water. A transparent fresh stream of gush running right down your throat to the web of your entangled tubes carrying hot red blood. Neutralized by calmness of pure crystal water drops. Water- a substance so smooth, so heavy yet so light, so silent yet so conversational- water imbibing all it’s loud prevalent energy with that silent walk around.
Water, a reminder – when characteristic matures it gets silent and strong and more silent and stronger. Water so silky in appearance and playful in its smile- pious in its soul, it’s existence. Yes – you come back to water. Unknowingly – You come back to a little more maturity, strength, playful smile, calmness, conversational transparency transpiring your empty energy bag to one full of experiences and prevalent power.
A little water for one and all.


28 Jul

Corners of the house display the parameters of it. The less visited corners stand to define the most visited centre. The ignored corners peacefully hold the walls strong. What else do they hold? Dirt, dust, cob-webs and heat. They mark the shape of the room, the limits of belongingness, the essence of home. They don’t get guests, they are not familiar with sections of jubilations, they do not get much decorated but yes they are spots for bad occasions, they are relevant to punishment face of a child, they are known to tears of an ailing heart. Corners are staunchly able-bodied. They know their demands. They stand on base of compulsions that build them. They are the protectors, defining structures, providing unrelenting service to a centre which would have been non-existent if not for a corners presence.
Corners form the centre while standing without their own formation being noticed. To me corners are like Parents making their child the centre. A ‘corner’ supporting the other corner to brighten the ‘centre’ child.

Continuos quest for Human interaction-

26 Jul

Quest for human experience begins when reasons for making natural-gradual human interaction dissolve. As the geographical location changes, there hangs a differently drawn picture of humans. You know none of your own race, you feel alone, you want to display a stronger portrait of yourself, you get defensive, you take a step back and you create a shell. This shell then bounds you to expose yourself only to ultimate necessary human interaction which you require for survival. That is when you realize how much that tea vendor means to you, how much does the guard who looks for your ID card as you punch in the premises makes a difference, how very much do you like the simple ‘hello’ of housekeeping woman, how much do you appreciate the effort put in by pantry boy to keep it clean, how much does the parking man makes a difference. They then become your reasons of human interaction, your daily survival dose, the only interaction that reminds your beating heart about you still being a human and not a robot who clocks in at the work place, logs on to the machine to work like a machine and then switch it off to drive the robotic body back home.
They remind there are smiles of unknown who apparently become more known than your co-workers. They are the originals who give the human touch to your robotically changing geographical location. They are the interactions you look forward to as you punch in your card the next day. They are the significant experiences which pursue you to believe that when geographical changes revolve, some human interactions packed in your survival kit stay alive, to keep you alive instantly just like a first aid kit. They define the immediate synergy of the change.

Kitchen and it’s occupants

25 Jul

Scratches on kitchen utensils shyly tell me the age of its household. A new born baby has most beautiful soft scarless skin. Newly set up kitchen tell me the new utensils feel the same. Gradual daily taste of life leave them little salty, little slippery with oil and the shine of their skin begin to dissolve in cycle of meal they serve- hot and cold weather of the food leave them stained and frozen. The scratches tell me the struggle and rush they experience being part of the daily chores of the household. Wherein the cooking spoon was rubbed so hard against its surface that it left its mark of being there on its body. They hold their scars with pride as someone got nourished with the meal that was prepared in them- leaving them with little more wrinkles on their surface. Wrinkles similar to what an old human skin engraves on itself in its travel of time some bright some dull.
Wrinkles with an increasing count suggesting with a smile- I have seen the world and I have seen it a bit more than you.
Each wrinkle for each experience counted – defined on stairs of life, in corridors of laughter in corners of tears.
The little bit famished skin of my kitchen utensils tell me that a household is maturing. It’s attaining gradual age, it’s going through the path of discovery just like its occupants. It’s being consumed as much as the humans who possess it are being consumed in life. Lifecycle of a household and it’s occupants- wrinkles and scratches – narrating their own stories looking for a listener.

Wash of my hair

24 Jul

My hair are curly I wash them beneath the running water, they entangle. The more water stream flows through them the more they entangle. I shampoo them, lather them, and put them beneath the gushing water again. As I juggle quickly the various stands of my hair, in an attempt to make them fuller and less jumbled I rush their skin against each other. While the water drips through them and I hurry to get over with the process I see a parable between the outside of my head and inside of my head. Just like my entangled hair my thought stream gushing inside my brain is jumbled. It’s wires are getting more entangled with more exposure of experiences. I wash my thoughts with concentration of peace in an attempt to make them fuller and healthier. They get nourished only until I rub them so harshly against each other that they get weak, split and fragile. Just the way I witness bubbly water of shampoo running away from my comparatively less entangled hair, I see bubbly thoughts speeding away from my little more nourished brain. What is inside my scalp is what is outside it. I appear same from within and on the surface. Plainly entangled.

Words and all that poem-

23 Jul

A quest for peace versus a will for wants
A love for love and a want for all
A trip to silence and a search for chaos
An urge to write and the second too small
A smile for laughter and a wish to pace along
A challenge so easy and the ease that I don’t want
A feeling of on the toes and a flat footed soul
A twitch of the eye and a prick on the heart door
A time so bound and a time so free
A time so high indeed time of need
A shout so subsided that silence prevails in it all
A silence so dark that night drives in it all
A night so bright that challenges day and sun
A sky so low with earth touching the ground
A feeling bundled up and a feeling so free
A state of contention or a state of being free?