Friday, 27 March 2015

My Words Are Happy

I enjoy my handwriting these days. A rough, crude yet in a smooth flow is what I can term this style of handwriting. Each alphabet and each word appear to be living to the fullest. The Is and the Es gleefully try to tell me a funny story but cannot stop beaming. And all the Ts look so tranquil as if they know everything. The Ws and Bs are acting fancy for some reason, they happen to be doing the twist. The Hs don’t seem to be any different, they look just as happy as they always did to me. In fact, every word gives an impression of being happy with itself.

I am not reflecting on the fact that whether my words are happy every time I write or not, because I am simply very glad that it did happen. Quantity doesn't matter, quality does. It has also got something to do with the writer’s relationship with her words, her style of handwriting, her ideas, her life. Every little moment of connection is worth cherishing. And why not, when we all give so much attention to the little things that irk us, little things that make us smile should be acknowledged.

Pour down your thoughts and then read them, you will get an answer. Yes, that too without knowing the question.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Sitting calmly, eyes closed

The image that once rose
The lotus, the dandelion, the rose
Feels it very clearly
Like the wind brushing past dearly
An aura shook the land
With the touch of a hand
It was the enlightened one, Buddha
Seeing right through the Mandala
The universe looked just like a sphere
A sphere just like the world
A world just like the mind
A mind just like the soul
A soul just like the One
Slowly and at once he won
Changing into a lotus there
The Buddha permeated the air

You Stardust

Step out you stardust, the door is wide open. Why? Aren’t you ready? That table is your trunk, you packed it long back, ask the thic...