The perception of reality appears to be concrete. But the actual reality is in ‘disappearence’. It is like the residual self image at its vanishing point, one can see but can hardly etch its real form. Eyes can barely catch the process but see the outcome. It is a causal nexus, or an enigma. Reality separates dream from itself but the irony is that both of them are amorphus. Reality hovers, but one can feel its presence in every breath. It reinforces or it purges. Before the ultimate exaltation it may rip apart into lees of sheer possibilities. Dream, on the other hand is a simulation of reality. It surrenders only one time when it renders and it never happens because it never happened. The seer is perplexed enough with her/his exit from the simulated reality and entrance to the enigmatic reality. The truth grins wide…
Is the fear over once you are on the other side of the wall? Is there any other side, per se, or an invisible wall? Asks the living… Do you hear them cry, where all the reasons defy To an unconscious lie? Do you see the living wailing their veins dry? Is it a relief when you sigh the last puff of air into the nothing? Is it really a glory or a mundane goodbye? With a meagre consolation of an unsealed reunification Once the clock ticks over to the metered respiration? Or it all just stops once the life drops Buoyant on the sea of remembrance, the ‘I’ takes its fleet into the pain-wrenched hearts of those who outlived Slowly to get effaced and erased, obeying the great silence? Nobody waits on the other side. There is no other side. Religions lie on the face of it. We say things to ourselves, Like a politician’s drooling bait of an ephemeral world. If all the maya ends, if all the needs die What is life? What is death? The living are dead. The dead live on. It’s a willing sport, a charade, a story of the matrix we foolishly buy. In a forever meaningless way, our existence is a lie!
Amid the humongous pressure, sweating anxiety, and motionless nights of staring at blank pages, a fleeting optimism appears… You feel good for a split-second, Seeing life beyond those blinding obstacles… And then it’s gone… I yearn for those moments to last a little longer!
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.”…
With those good old lines, here’s another year to look forward to… With the conundrum of time… And the continuum of beginnings and ends… Let’s win the races once we failed! Let’s mend the lives once we sailed…
Comes in mind, the yellow sky Crisp air, dry leaves fly It must be a Fall, I remember by School vans wheeling, chirping us Bidding good afternoons and goodbyes Tired for the day, yet best of times Hear mama’s call, ‘Supper first, You have dance class at five.’ Alley and road, Trailing mama’s toes Rambling school stories, Who’d the teacher scold! Was it Cooper, or was it, Lee? Or who’d chased a bumblebee! Tune of guitars and dancing bells. Smells like old pages From grandma’s tales! Footsteps clip clap hand drums beat Small rooms darkish, candlelit.
PS: Wrote this one a long time ago… could not complete, every time I tried, I guess flashbacks aren’t meant to be complete… will think about it later… read the glimpse for now…
“Carry on, my wayward son There’ll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don’t you cry no more” (Livgren & Kansas)
In the crowd with a mouthful of stories, have you ever felt lonely? With a charade of emotions have you ever felt, nothing is True? In a momentary exchange of words, have you ever found that familiarity? In a room with machinery heat, have you felt that cold silence? In those age-old pages, have you ever had the warmest embrace? Have you felt that sanity in isolation? Aloof, away, unshackled and emancipated, Have you ever wanted to live with your head held high, and having answers to all those finger wielding questions, yet to remain silent with pride, Because you don’t owe them a single word? To live with honesty and clean satisfaction. The familiar faces can hardly get you with your clearest response… But you are understood, here and Everywhere. Have you ever followed those signs? Seen the playful irony and smiled on your own? They will say, the path is too perilous to walk, they may say, it’s too linear. But it’s your path, only you are to assess. You may hit the impasse, you will break through. The struggle is the ultimate meaning, that’s how it goes. We, who feel our disjointed belongings, are understood by our prime elements. You have to see. You are seen. You will see. That’s the meaning of it.
What is a man, devoid of his emotions? Does a human being exist beyond his/her feelings? Human emotions are the fundamental constitution of our being. Life is a conglomerate of countless events, a composite of cause and effects, numerous possibilities, creating probable parallels and planes of existence. Many mistakes have been done in the human history, are caused by those feelings— that many good deeds have happened out of some sheer ‘gut feeling’ or petite hunches. Human emotion— a complex brain chemistry, integrated actions of amygdala— reaction of which is experienced as feelings— is abstract but our actions (or behaviour) are the expressive manifestations of it. Life parades on the world. Every one of us contribute our part on this greater dynamic— an individual life, consisting of family, career, personal and shared spaces and many more goes on and on with different effective factors, from birth to death, thinking the intermediary our own anxiety, we handle it in our ways. Have you ever thought, what if this world itself is theconcrete existence and we are the minions of it, the net worth of human contributions depositing decades after decades since the beginning, what is the world really preparing for? The ultimate destruction? Yes! Probably the final saturation is the other name of destruction. But is it the End? No! As they say, with the desolation of one universe, another is born somewhere, some other minions will spring there too, contribute their parts to prepare another finality. Probably…
Coming back to us, human emotion is a trailing silhouette, tagged along with every single one of our thoughts and actions. The basic binary, sadness/happiness— are the black and white in the clusters of intricate human emotions. With the gravest shock, we feel ‘sad’— we purge— then we come to the inevitable ‘acceptance’, no choice otherwise: process of grieving. It calms down, with the healing power of Time, but our memory records several lacerations, one or more wounds might as well get open with the jab of Time. But that too eventually cauterises with other turns of events as time proceeds our life. The strength of the feeling fades, like energy transforms, it only changes, perhaps there is a repository somewhere!
Likewise, you want something, something you aspire for, you work hard for it, your motivation loses, you win it back, you drown in doubts, doubts of your own capabilities, you swim through it and emerge with doubled enthusiasm, you become restless until you reach that ‘destination’ you have marked yourself for… You are sored, sored with words and missteps and frights— emotional turbulences nearly capsize your ship… A ‘journey’ you take and… You have ‘it’. Current of blood rushes through your body. You should be ‘happy’. You have made it, you have reached your ‘goal’. But you retrospect and ponder, you praise the path, the journey that kept you going… A transition from hyperactivity (the preparatory phase and the execution) to the stasis (the apparent completion and anticipation for the outcome) leaves you perplexed. Now that you have reached your assigned mark, you feel that ‘void’, may be momentarily, as again, life sets you for another mark.
Like emotion is the permanent shadow of our being, each emotion is fleeting towards the Nothing. The Nothingness prevails over every preceding emotion/ feeling, in the name of ‘acceptance’ or ‘void’ or that feeling of ‘pit in the stomach’. There is no ‘concrete’ feeling, we just name them upon some discrete traits they carry, like the ‘concrete’ reality is questionable beyond human perceptions, each emotion is a tributary of that Nothingness. At the optimum point we only feel that ‘void’. The Nothing is not the existential nihilism but it is that saturated place, that repository of ‘everything’— the all-receptive conundrum. The epitome is always the Nothing. The Nothing is the only ‘everlasting’.
The wild wild mind, Can only be captivated by YOU. I can not ensnare; it would not sit still, But only when it hears a call from YOU. I do wonder, where’d the thunder go, It’s all calm now, When it’s caught by YOU. It changes— breaks all hinges Of toxic disdain When it gets embraced by YOU. The wild wild bird, Stops fluttering its barging wings— When it sings songs of YOU. She seems lost in the jungle— Where the creepers creep her out, The black river gives her shivers, Amid sap green mist and cloud— Then You came, sang that song— Her fear withered, she followed your light— Enchanted by that song, sung by YOU. She is tamed, off the flame of anger And shame, as You fetch her from the edge, Like no one else, she leans on YOU.
They call you inanimate— A cover over pages a few— But you speak louder than them, Paint a picture in the worldview! Your words don’t hurt Like their beguiling darts would do. You impart peace in a restless soul, Cast magic in mystic fold— Put dreams in dreamer’s eyes, You are fewer than the few. Read or to be read, My heart has always felt for YOU, Without a tint of regret or rue. No, you are no flesh and blood— That most will assume, You are more than that. I know who you are, or maybe a few— You are everywhere, as of interest or honor, In every nook and corner— You enlighten the world, ever since These earthlings could write and read. From cover to cover, your reader hovers— On your words I feed to live, Until my eyes would cease to see. Until I fly off the oblivion and no more will BE. The wild wild mind, Will only be enchanted by YOU.
Reblogging one of Selma’s blogs— a fascinating piece of writing that beautifully celebrates life and its correlation to the grand design!
(A writing community becomes a community when they share corresponding chain of ideas that creates a rippling effect!)
I am really thankful that I found a kindred spirit like you, Selma, who not only reads my words but also apprizes her candid thoughts since the very first day of our WordPress camaraderie! Presumably, we share the same continent and will continue sharing & celebrating word-power as well!
With regard to this context, my last blogpost, So who wins? reflects upon the idea of uniformity that our life presents— conflicting oneness yet quest for individuality— imprints that we leave, eventually, by casting our emotions and expressions while we live, until our existence fully wears away… Selma’s thoughts on it added more meaning to it, hence this re-blog.
A slumbering soul ain’t ever been heard of And no dying dream a full life e’er could fulfill Life is precious when it is lived fully awoken Despite tribulations, sorrows, pain, and change This Life is real and please, make no mistaking That another is the purpose of this phase …
The one who is angry, despair of life, she writes,
‘Life is a mistake, it is filled with mistakes and errors, you are haunted by your past mistakes, leads you to make a bunch of new mistakes! It is horrible! All I do is wrong, I take wrong decisions, chase wrong paths, and say wrong words! I am done. I hate everything. Please cut me a slack!’
Heat cools down, attention passes on to other things, for a while, she thinks again, she sees again, she starts writing again,
‘It is like writing, you make mistakes, you write again, you learn from past mistakes, you do not repeat it in the new, because you know now, but there comes another mistake, you learn another one. It’s a process, it’s a flux, and hence it’s not a straight line. You make mistake, you learn, you may repeat it again, because it’s a long run. Who keeps the score? If anyone, it’s you. What is your existence beyond life? If you are discussed, when you are gone, if you are remembered, when you are dead, it is by life, by another lived ones. A world devoid of life, might remember you with your elements and matters: carbons and oxygens, to its atomic level, but that’s not you, that’s all, all lives possess some or the same elements, every other life possesses those atoms as in you. Life celebrates life, life of the lived, life of the dead. You do not exist beyond life. Life does not exist beyond life.’
Words, Meaning and the Nothing 