Dreamt of a life

The plant to water again.

The window curtained.

The books unread.

The door shut.

The dream unrealised.

Beautiful?

A clap. A shout. A sound or silence.

A hug. A caress. A touch or none.

What do you find beautiful?

Do you believe beauty is skin deep or are you more concerned about your color, your posture, your size?

How is beauty so different the world over. Because we are all different? We are beautiful. Or are we? Is beauty defined by chiseled bodies and the right symmetry? Or is it who we are or who we have become or what we overcame to be a better person?

The mystery that surrounds humans and their desires is not the want of beautiful things but of the definition of beauty.

I like people. I like their chaos. The audacity to blurt out the truth. The simplicity of a look, the innocence of a shrug. I like knowing them and unearthing their peels, one by one. I like the bad and the ugly. I am not worried about the face or the skin or the figure. I want to know the journey you took to end up as yourself. The paths you choose to walk on today. The roads that will take you places, to make more mistakes or to rise and be who you always were meant to be.

For me, that is more significant than your sillhouette.

For me, you are beautiful. However ugly you feel, however dirty, however undesirable. You are what you are. You will become more or maybe you won’t. But you are and will be a thing of beauty and you will be a joy for someone. Or another.

Out with the Old..!

I went!

It was like just another place but somehow intensely different. A place with a history, one that spoke to you. The sights, the sounds and the smells. There was an air of excitement, adventure, old days mingling with the possibility of what could be happening now and would happen tomorrow.

Or perhaps it was nothing, a figment of my over active imagination that happens to work in mysterious ways at all times.

There was something. Can’t quite put my finger on it. It was the old looking brick walls and an architecture unlike any I have seen before. The statues, the cold wind, yet the inviting essence of times gone. The graphic visuals everywhere made one contemplate on the state of all that surrounded you.

Each morsel made you feel like you are sinning…!

The people around you seemed to be in another world, all wrapped up in their worlds. All enchanted by the captivating night sky and view of a pillar of piety in the midst of all the worst that one could imagine, such a contrast it was to behold.

I will go somewhere else tonight.

I will feel entirely oblivious to all around me. I will experience what some have and others crave for.

Adventure.

Ecstasy.

Pain.

Excruciating.

Numbness.

I shall not look back. I shall move on.

Live for another Cuckoo tomorrow!

Dil Bujh gaya

Waiting is hard. Is knowing any better?

What do you mean when you want but you don’t? What do I?

Will life change for either of us if things change, or will it all remain the same the more it changes. That is what you fear, that is what remains to be seen.

What stops you from doing this now or ever and what pushes me to push you again and again?

Why am I obsessing again and again and again.

I know not.

Why arent you?

Why.

Arent.

You.

Why do I need to have this? Is this who I want to be or who I have been told Im supposed to be. Why do we let the picture be the one other paint for us? Where is my painting of me? Or is this all I am ever going to be? Being pulled by strings not mine.

 

Writers Block.

Let down

Suspend

“ The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. ”
― Albert Einstein

 

Catharsis?

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.”

 

— Graham Greene, Ways Of Escape

Make peace.

Fighting with myself is the most difficult.

I hate it

But fight I must.

Fight over what to eat, what to wear, what to say, where to go, who to be with.

Isn’t it easier to succumb? To all that others want me to do and be? To all that I feel like? To all, that’s such a piece of cake?

Why bother listening to the ‘inner Sarz’? It’s just so simple, doing as I want is such a lucid river to swim across, then why do I choose the murky, raging whirlpool?

What difference does it make to anyone what I choose to do and NOT to do! It seems like our lives are run by everyone around us except ourselves. The reins are never in our hands; instead, the neighborhood big mouth, the college bully, the irritating MIL, the infernally interfering ‘friend’ all have their own input and two cent’s worth to contribute towards us, completely unwarranted, I might add..!

Err, we might, humans, aren’t we all? Decisions we take might not be the best and choicest. Who gives a shit! If you don’t scald your hand, how would you learn to keep away!

Taking the high road has never been as plain as ABC; its about time, you learn to move past the laughing hyenas and abysmal cliff and smile the smile that makes all wonder what it is that you know and they don’t. Be happy with yourself. Own yourself.

Make the most of the time you have here, as there won’t be any left to repent when you move on.

Live like you want, talk like you should, jump off a cliff, take a chance!

Live a little!

Gents not so gentlemanly

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,-
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.”
― William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing