Saturday, 21 April 2018

Intervals


The beach was audible to her in intervals. She walked bare feet on the sand and still didn’t smile. Rhea had muffled thoughts, a cluster full of it, covering her face. And that is why she couldn’t see the beautiful, starry canvas right above her. The sky didn’t twinkle, the waves didn’t play music for her. Like a ghost, locked in some tragic seconds, she moved slowly, that pale thing or maybe the world moved around her, and she stood still.

But the beach was audible to her in intervals. And she unconsciously moved towards the ocean. The interval ended, but it was too late for to be locked back again… a wave rushed towards her and caught her. Rhea took a deep breath and looked down, her feet were wet, the waves danced forward and backward. She smiled before she could stop herself.

Rhea could now hear the gushing ocean, see the sparkling stars, feel the cool wind and the cool sand. She started walking, this time not shying from the waves. She sauntered along the shore, opening her arms and welcoming the wind, the waves and the night sky in intervals.  

Saturday, 7 April 2018

Not Alone


You are not alone
Know this and take the way home
Not to the concrete walls
Or to those fairy dolls
For Time is playing an old game
New Faustus, but the end will be the same
The dim light that you see within
That is wavy, translucent as linen
Is there to guide you through it all
To help you rise when you fall
Forever glowing and reaching
The peaceful piece in you

So you are not alone
Know this and take the way home

Friday, 30 March 2018

What Is So Grand In The Way Dragons Fly?


Eyes gaze at the grandiose being, follows its path, amazed and overwhelmed by the unbelievable. What is so grand in the way dragons fly? It is just in its element, it is its utmost self.

The dragons are awed by every mind that is familiar with its stories. Fire breathing, winged, snake like, four legged, cave dwellers, treasure keepers, proud and wise. Flying high above the clouds, quasi-free from bondage, they come back on the ground to quench their thirst. They don’t kill for joy, they understand the laws of nature.

Mythical or not, dragons are glorious creatures. I say mythical or not for a storytellers’ imagination is an entity in itself, very much alive, though in thoughts, formless and fluid, but true. Found in a story, the dragons thrive in this other realm.

Storytellers gave something more than just a pair of wings to the dragons, that something is splendour and beauty. Thus, right in the thought there was magnanimity and ferocity. What else is a dragon if not a magnanimous loveable beast? Ah, here is what sprinkles magic in a dragon’s story, they are loveable beasts. Our storyteller friends didn’t suffer, at least, and I thank every heaven, from poverty of mind; they dared to imagine and realized that nothing is more powerful than true love, not even a dragon.

So rhythmically every dragon’s story is about love; a hero either fights back or fights along the dragon and wins back her love/ life and is showered with unheard grandeur. Always a talk of antiquity, dragons are, but worth noticing is not the ‘antiquity’ bit, it is the ‘always’ bit. Always remembered, locked in the heart.

But what is so grand in the way dragons fly? It is just in its element, it is its utmost self. Exactly, it is its utmost self. Like the storyteller who thought of it with utmost concentration, power, passion and love. Maybe just for a few minutes the storyteller was in her element, she was her utmost self, and thus, she gave birth to the dragon.

These legendary creatures ruled the sky once upon a time, and they still do, just travel to their realm and witness how majestically they fly.  



Photo courtesy - Google 

Sunday, 18 March 2018

In This Moment


I am complete in this moment. Not in parts, the picture is clear now, the puzzle is solved. I breathe in quietness and the quietness decides to stay. Nothing binds me, I stay stationary, yet I flow in space. The cacophony dies smoothly and turns into a wave of delight. I hold this wave and throw it on the ground breaking it into a rainbow.

Towards the light I walk and the light walks towards me. We will meet one day, the journey begins in this moment.

Friday, 9 March 2018

Fear of Fear


The parched land did give me an answer, but how? Doesn’t it fear barrenness? It answered me though I had to wait for hours and hours as I walked ahead, crossed that skeletal shape of an animal and at last saw a cactus flower blooming.

The falling sky did give me an answer, but how? Doesn’t it fear horizon? It answered me to just look up at it and smile. I felt like I was falling back or was I flying… The night sky presented me with a mystery, with the sparkling mystery. I smiled and realised that I have been smiling the answer all the while.

The elixir of life presents itself to me, but why? Doesn’t it fear absorption? It answered me by flowing and gushing and filling up the planet and mankind alike. By giving itself up, it prospered in all forms and all life. Every glass of water now tells me why.

The sun’s fire doesn’t burn anyone, but why? Doesn’t it fear the cold end? It answered me ferociously by reaching every nook and corner and nurturing every universe. The epitome of supreme action and fiery hope, it burned all the questions and answers, leaving a pure residue alive.

The wind carries all life on its shoulders, but how? Doesn’t it fear burden? It answered me not, rather played with kites, the dry leaves, someone’s scarf, whistling in the woods, chiming music all around, lightly o lightly giving life, life.

The grand truths, moulded in Nature, by Nature, don’t know any fear.

*

They support answers and questions, I support fear. Silently walking down the approved pathway, I never dare to face a fear. Walls of doubts, plastic wallpapers, radio playing endless talks in a loop, I sit and I walk at the same time in my automatic red shoes. When I stay absolutely quiet, I count it as a good conversation. Fear of everything rules a life.

But when death strikes, in the end or the beginning, it surpasses everything. Death comes without any motive or desire.

*

Fear of fear confuses me, shackles me, blindfolds me, stupefies me, breaks me… but oddly, never stops me to act.

If fear fears anything, it is action. Action requires knowledge. Knowledge gives you experience, experience makes you wise and a wise person fears nothing.

(This post is written in remembrance of Gin Gin Bandri, a little kitten.) 

Intervals

The beach was audible to her in intervals. She walked bare feet on the sand and still didn’t smile. Rhea had muffled thoughts, a cluster ...