Tag Archives: writing

‘Run’ life

4 Aug

And you thought you were running the life – you such a fool, it runs you makes you jog then hop then walk and run uphill. There is absolute fair reward system in all this excruciating routine it paves for you. It makes you witness some of the most experiential moments, how gently it puts you in front of a pit and teaches you to avoid it while you are still huffing and puffing with your jog. How skillfully it introduces you to some fabulous joyous moments which you want to keep visiting back while you continue rest of your jog forward. How wonderfully it does not let you look back and if you are persistent still- it puts a hump in your path which you unless jump; shall fall. As you fall, it strikes the ground so hard against your face that you collect all your bruises together to gain the strength of standing up. Then at that moment you start jogging again, this time more gently, cautiously, willfully with little more awareness in blink of your eyes- lessons of humps met with and learnt from so far playing as some soulful songs in your earphone. As you cover the next few milestones, it exposes you to changing paths, fellow joggers, passerby who are running faster than you- some you want to overlook and some you pick to get inspired from. It presents you with this great mix of lot- some bright some dull colors. You look high up at the sky and now it does not seem as high as it was when you started your jog. As you continue the remaining laps- LIFE smiles back at you as it knows you still think you are jogging because you want to but it knows you are jogging because it is making you to.

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Burn the Kernel to keep ‘Beautiful’ Life Alive-

7 Oct

As the fragrance leaves the petals and pith of the flower to spread around, it smiles seeing part of it part away only to emerge with tears during the night tears as tiny dew drops appearing on its soft tender skin.  As the ‘pleasant’ wind blows away from its originating nub, making several faces smile with its brush on the skin and through hair, it does not realize that the core was left behind silent, vaccumed, away, alone.  As the water simmers in the bowl only to be dissolved with healthy green tea dried petals, it burns itself to steam and loses its purity emerging as a mixture of green herbs.  As the mountain ranges let ice melt with heat of sun rays, ice which they had held close to themselves for uncontrollable range of time – only to let it reach as purest fresh form of water – water which is simile to life.  As the sun burns its essence and let the ray part away from it forever – only to let the universe shine while it dissolves itself slowly and gradually.  As the paint leaves the brush strands to let itself drain as a beautiful picture – only to dry on unknown sheet of canvas for pleasure of its onlookers.  As the wood let itself to be cut and carved – to be shaped and beautified.  As the chalk marks let themselves dust away from the board only for new words to be written and explained.  As the trees let their darling green leaves dry and shed only to let new season arrive.  As the pages of the book let themselves flip and pressed beneath weight of new pages – just so that learning continues.  As the walls of home let themselves be scratched and scalped recklessly only to be painted with fresh paint. As the waves leave ocean and hit the bay only to keep it replenished.  As the music nodes leave the guitar strings – shaking only to spread the pleasure of music around.   As the tears rolling down the eyes leave them all the more lonely only to give heart a moment of relaxation.  As the blood rushes through veins making heart pump louder and harder – only to sustain life.  As all these observations are made and typed – I learn that most beautiful aspects of life demand – yes not ask or require but DEMAND effort, endless effort, tireless hard work, unrecognizable focus, never ending energy and a never failing feeling of burning its kernel to sustain the beauty and amazement alive.  Keep life alive.

Butterfly must return to the flowers?

22 Aug

The butterfly is slow and unmovable for some days. It’s favorite window is in process of removal. It has been asked to shift places and get back to the flowers. They say window is not where butterflies belong to. They should be out there amongst the flowers. They just envy the butterfly and love of its protector for the butterfly. They appear as green eyed monster to notice how calmly the butterfly could sit inside that window with no complaints but all peace in life. They resent the attention that butterfly could fetch with its colors while sitting amidst the sheer blank glass of the window pane. They want the butterfly to return back to the flowers and the garden so it gets lost and merged amongst several colors of the garden. It won’t stand out and won’t shine bright. It won’t hook the attention of several onlookers and hence it won’t need a protector to watch its boundaries.
Then, if the butterfly dissolves amongst those several colors and gets down to ashes, it won’t be noticeable because there will be just so many colors around to vanish this butterfly.
It’s flipping it’s wings harder to pursue sitting pretty in the window pane, feel the moments it felt on the pane surrounded by its protector, feel the fumes of fresh pumping blood and hear beat of thumping heart of its protector. Butterfly is neither sad nor disappointed but it’s surprised at the elements of life. They swing like a light pendulum of crystal which picks a supersonic pace if wind of emotions blows strong and slows down – at times becoming completely stationary when stare of onlookers becomes staunched and rugged for it to swing. A pendulum which swings on external power gaining all heed for its movement and at times missing movements yet not able to dominate its frequency of swings. Pendulum pretty like the butterfly, shining pendulum of crystal – plush and exorbitant but in no charge of its own.

Thoughts and the curvy window frame

20 Aug

It feels so free in this silence where all I could listen to is loud noise of my thoughts. Yes it’s the noise they make as all their speech is not to be counted as voice. I am an incredibly emotional being and my thoughts just take me further deeper to those emotions. It’s like a journey which is traveling deep inside the bed of the planet. No one has been to the core of it because you can’t sustain there. It’s concentrated, aloof and extreme at the bottom of it. Well who really has struck this ‘more than rock solid’ bottom anyways? None! Take that for an answer. Creativity keeps me breathing and my passion for writing is at its peak when it’s pitch dark, with just moon shining bright. Music playing in my head of Paul McCartney’s ‘My Valentine’ keeps the momentum of this writing smooth and strong. It seems like I am on some strong drug making me type all as I collect back all the thoughts and put them to shape. I can imagine an Italian design iron window frame – very flowery and curvy in its appearance. Lucrative and ambitious in its look, one that we all want to have in our room but two questions surround its existence or acceptance – First – it’s so dreamy in its appearance that it will stand out as compared to ambience of the rest of the room , Second – how was it’s design conceived?
Boom – those two questions just make this frame to get discarded irrespective of its curves, beauty and sophisticated yet a raw look.
Why am I imagining this frame? My thoughts and manner of thinking are like this frame – curvy, creative, sophisticated yet raw, strong like iron however not alluring enough to be part of the window of your room. It cones in sea blue color with traces of old rust on it for that ancient effect. A simpler shady black regular frame is what you would rather prefer. As for this curvy frame, you would visit the ‘home decor’ shop everyday, long the frame, stare at it for time better known by you, ask the sales guy if it is on ‘sale/discount’ yet? Touch it, feel it, observe its artistic design of flowers, petals, leaves and yet leave it back in the most bright corner of the store. My thoughts get placed at most shining, bright, attractive corner of the store. They can be noticed even before you enter the store, they get cleaned and shine to spank every now and then as they attract the crowd however the sale that store makes with all this attraction is not of these shiny thoughts/frame but the regular daily routine ready to use frames or so to put – ‘straight thoughts’.
Shinier one is still lying in the centre place of the store serving what it serves the best – attraction. It gets best of the treatment but no home from this show stage. I strive to write such writings within minutes where my listeners think it must have had taken me hours to think like this and put it to words. Well – I surprise myself with all the captures I make throughout the day in a mind which refuses to stop juggling even at wee hours unless I put my shinier thoughts to structure of a curvy frame. May the creativity hale. May the frame keep shining and attracting – something which it does at it’s best when it’s pitch dark and the only light that appears is of moon or is it the frame?