Me, The Antagonizing alien

We, the ones that carry empathy, love & kindness are often the ones carrying hate, rage & anger. It’s the mere habit to encapsulate things that fall into place & the things that fall out of it. Cushioning every thought that comes to your mind makes you a better human being, yet it becomes imperative that you make “others” understand the true meaning of the words you speak.

Speech is a powerful tool. It proves vital in both construction & destruction depending on the way you channel your words. Now, every person has this inner circle that they depend on, be comfortable with, can talk to, live with anytime. If for some reason that inner circle starts to fall apart, who would you think to blame? You might think, “is it me? am i changing? am i doing something wrong? Why the people who used to understand me, without me uttering a single word? now fail to understand my cry for help & my plea for support“.

Someone once told me “It’s not the other person” “Try to take your ego out of the equation & you will understand, it’s not the world against you, but you against yourself”.

What if, some fine day you wake up to realize that you drove away everyone who cared about you? What if, you finally understand that no matter what, how much, how significant part you play in the lives of your loved ones, you have to “not expect” anything. The idea that you will be treated the same way that you treat others, the idea that you will be loved, supported or cared about the way that you do, is moot as it lacks sanity.

It was you, who decided to support someone, to be the strong point. Why would you expect the other one to do the same? The choice isn’t yours!

I woke up this morning to realize that its not what you do, its what you fail to do that matters. Turned meanings, blank faces, ugly words, that’s not ill fate, that’s the end result of you commemorating yourself. In this very world, communication fails because “we listen, not to understand, but to reply”.

Reality of the Untold

When the words move my soul, I begin to unfold,
Unfold into reality, the reality of the untold..

I make myself desire, the ones that never mould,
Can never wish for something, that something made of Gold..

You stand like a bridge, making it all sane,
It’s tempting, it’s calming, it’s like summer rain..

Just a glimpse, your, glimpse that makes me sigh,
Sigh of relief, filled with sheer joy..

Sort out my life, to bring about a change,
Its that rare a ray, who lights the cloud range..

Life turns wonders’, when you sheer hold my soul,
To Unfold into reality, Reality of the Untold….

The Humming Hour Glass

As I sit with modest noise of silence, I hear the hour glass hum. That steady slip of silent something, every molecule chiming with mutant stokes of light, recalls the piece of past most cherished in time. That subtle grind of sand, invoking the misery that once seemed to be fading away, pertinent to the cosmos of things.

Where time is in no hurry, & i can’t seem to shake time. Where there’s a consistent need of a shelter from that bright summer sun, overpowering my own shadow. Where every moment passing reveals and steps to melt me. The sense of dismay & an added purr of stigmatic deception fluttering me, the hour glass lingering with reluctance to quality & a conscience to acknowledge.

One man’s twaddle, another man’s destiny, doesn’t quite justify. The one in power, tilting my hour glass to nuke my senses, crippling me & even challenging the gush of air keeping my feet in power & mind as set. As I sit with modest noise of silence, besides the glass pane as a spectator of a mute exhibition with voices of the verve & animation of a statue, i rest…

Asking no due..

Little knew me, thy courageous, a world resides in you,

Little knew me, all together, a voice calls so true…

 

Calm, composed, facilitated, without asking a due,

Stirring up the cool desire, chanting it all through…

 

Smothering all my guts inside, I stand out of queue,

Why? Oh why?  Hierarchy of things unfolding, utterly untrue…

 

A game begins, the game of life, little did I knew,

To absolute the world winning, my world being you,

Little knew me, thy courageous, a world resides in you…

 

 

 

The paining trail…

An empty slate, desiring words, to put meaning within the random orchestrated letters. The rules, no rules, can ever be implemented when stating ornaments of empathy. The junction where you start to care and where you know you actually do, has a familiar yet strange vibe to it.  A certain segmented truth, is now the real truth. You can very well acquire a fondness, but this fondness can only be expected to last, if it clears a due. The due that is kept aside for just me to fulfil.

The chandeliers of joy were kept aside; I enter the room & I see a tide. A tide that stops at nothing, and leaves something for me to ponder on.  To pick up the salt ridden pieces and to think back on the choices I have made. I think, yet unable to pick mistakes, I try, I fail and I start again. Where was I wrong? Whom did I foul? what made my life so shredded that I can no longer glue back the pieces together.

Though I painted a serene art, a picture that had everything, I gave it time, I nurtured it with love and I seasoned it with care. Unwavering at times of peril & staunched where vulnerable, I made sound choices. But it found, only to flounder and dissolve at first sight of woe. An unfamiliar assemblage, spooring judgement. Incompetent and rustic, yet competent & weighty, the crowd with loathing looks and stating eyes, piercing into my soul. Bustling my peace, unsettling my pastoral entity.

It’s just the coarse & paining trail, I walk. I walk for unanimity, I walk to learn, I walk to find the moment I started walking for..