serenity and solitude, sorround me, the sounds of bush cricket, the dead dry leaves, the breeze driven branches, the dark night and growling, or sounds of cuckoo, butterfly and bees... .. my companions. i see my growing, graduating from bud to flower, my blooming and dying alone! no body to endear! never to be enamoured! like some of you in the plains, with your own people, as good as without them! alone, overlooked,not appreciated, for who you are! but then God knows, what is best for me or you, in the wild or in the plains! Kamakhya Image Credit : Google
If nothing has happened why something is still there the confluence of whys now and then making waves at times,violent the graphic equalizer of heart making too much buzz with the musings of hatred the strings of unforgiveness rising up, as never before if sometimes the soothing breeze before the rain promises positivity some other times the intense humidity of mind sends those promises back to the farthest yard of heart a vagary of climate change for the heart and mind something in the middle of larynx difficult to dissolve in the world of concretes with edifices of ego pride scornfulness searching the hearts of wax is a journey towards futility if painting the self with the colors of ego narcissism and pomposity is that beautiful then why the colors will not look attractive also with them if the tags of pride disdain are not unstitched from the mind how the saplings of forgiveness and love be planted in heart the disconnect to HIS children will never bring the connect to HIM! Image credit: Google
millions of them few good some bad many of same genre awesome denizens demarcation of ideologies beliefs systems frenzy behaviors nothing new year on year double standards galore pretension the order mediocrities idolized cloistered minds ignition of heart..a far cry a fear of iconoclasm suffocation inside but inaccessible outlets irresistible materialism pivoted opportunism introspection faces many road blocks quest for bliss true realization knowing the self possibly impossible one door still open rays of omnipotence scattered all around delving free subscriptions open
I don't know whether I am there or not in your canvas, I never got tired drawing the past with the crayons of our memories moving on,never meant looking back is a crime! the years gone by may not come again still the indelible imprints they left behind are enough to lubricate the helpless heart machine the charcoal who knows may be recycled to reproduce a flame even now! if reading again the glossary of our conversations and re-reading the notation of love are nothing but foolishness then let they be! looking at the peephole with fortitude for a gleamer of self-made solace is not at all to blame! Image Credit : Google
the rains outside my windows and my intonation of heart continued to hover.. how goodness simplicity can be the weaknesses how people love to treat you at a discount taking for granted while rudeness reticence ego clad dispositions are sold at a premium silent malaise hurting crossroads a labyrinth of human relations rehearsing to be different to disentangle will mean disgrace to self love who cares them! I decided to laminate the goodness for the 'ME' I am!
the proclivity to stay unaffected is nothing new the sufferings the pains of people around making no impact to look beyond the self the servitude to matter and ego incapacitating the consciousness to ignite the true nature of we denizens the so called hyperbole and nonchalance do not heal people while the passion for compassion does how less is too less only the inner self can answer the indifference to them today will only reinforce the difference in our well being tomorrow accepting people as they are soaked in universal love dislodging all the grudges makes sense a big sense! Image credit : Google
the regalia now looks inorganic without you the histrionics around the hocus-pocus in the air made me crave for your presence to tide over the hollowness within to revisit the gallery of togetherness we created the restless cuckoo's chirp of the neighbourhood in the morning repeatedly said.. 'what you are waiting for cross the hedge right now' to recreate the mosaic left behind