Death lurking behind our shoulders

The time between birth and death, to me seems insignificant and sallow. Filled with remorse, and pit falls, life does not make much sense, when it is supposed to end and without any trace of it afterward. Life means entanglement, we wile away the time we have between birth and death, in creating obstacles for ourselves and others.
From birth till the last breath, I think life is a grand delusion and we go out of our way to keep the delusion alive. We bond with people, listen to them, listen to our heart and try to hoodwink death. Death happens all around, yet most of the time, we ignore it or try to tell that it is something which happens to some one else.
It was the death of a neighbour, which got me to realise the futility of life and transient of life at the same go. The lady in question, whose husband left her, to me resembled a house whose foundation was shaken leaving its rafters. A house whose foundation is shaken might retain its superstructure, yet a slight wind will bring it down like a house of card. She looked at me with eyes, whose lights I think was gone for ever.
The death customs I have noticed talks of continuity of life and the soothing presence of the thought of eternal life. I wonder who are these customs to help, the living or the dead? The lady, who to me was always a woman of mirth and laughter, post the death of the husband was an empty cage, whose soul just flew away from it.
With death being certain, why we human beings love life so much? With death breathing down our shoulders most of the time, why do we indeed want to live all the time? Why are we so fond of life, when it is to end one day? What is the cause of this life to continue, this hope to continue to remain strong instead of resigning ourselves to death?
Suppose, for a second that we give up the desire to live. What would happen to the whole game of life? Suppose the created world gives up its desire to live stops fomenting bonds with things, stops getting new life into the earth, will this cruel joke of life end? Death, I think is a way of Nature to make sure her play continues, yet men do not understand that. We must think a way must be found, to make death more tangible   and life less attractive.

Being lonely in the crowd

Some unknown note of music makes things so difficult all of a sudden. It floats down the air, enters your heart and wrecks your soul before disappearing into oblivion. There might not be anything special in those notes, but for those of you, who have experienced it, certainly, this experience of being ravaged by music is something to die for. 

It happens, to me quite often, and every time, I feel the same joy, same glee that I had felt the first time, music had touched my soul. The first time, it happened I was unaware of the consequences, neither could I understand what had taken place. A simple song it was one of the not so famous numbers, punctuated with its share of rhythmic psychedelia sound and drum beats, characteristic of the fag end of the 70's. With its foot tapping groovy number, it must have been quite something to the flower children. 

The effect it had on me was quite strange. The tune started haunting me night and day, morn and even. As if it got imprinted in my heart and instead of the breath of life, it was that of the song, that was going around my nervous system. Strange to say, the song got me high- high to such an extent that I started seeing light in darkness and darkness in light. My vision it got peppered with a strange light and it was such a feeling. 

Slowly the magic of that high might go away but it really is a trip for me. 

Sunshine, dark clouds and silver linings

Winter mornings, can be deceptive. They hide within them seeds of joy, which are hard to find. Life , to me, has of late become a chess board with moves, which I cant fathom. Although, I know that it can be easy to handle, but I say, it has become hard of late to see what I can do.

Well, there you are, I go at it again. My fingers type things, which I do not know if I can understand. I want to see what they type, with my mind empty of any thoughts, I want to see where does they words leads me to. I have to understand why does my mind gets the better of me most of the time. I need to know why does the emotions do the things they do.

This blog was not supposed to be what it was. Why do I write when all I can do is write? Writting is something which I seriously do not understand. I know what I can do, I know what I can't do but yet my fingers make to do things, which I know I cant do.
Blame it on the sunshine, or blame it on me, but yes the silver lining is something I love to see. It is not hard to get, I just can feel it at times in my bones. With all the royal nonsense that I do, the silver lining is something I like to feel. Well lets see where the lining is now 

The Priestess's bow

Who do you seek ,Priestess whose life has left your body long? Why do you roam the earth long after your time is up? With your noiseless breath and beatless heart, your movement on this planet is like winter winds rustling the dead leaves off the trees.
Priestess once you were alive and had ruled the earth. Your bow, your arrows had the qualities to purify miasma, to heal the sick. You, with your magic touch had brought to life many souls, who were tormented in death. Yet priestess, no one came to your rescue when your soul was trapped in bottomless hell.

Your name still moves on the lips of men, who are scared to die. Your bow and arrow are still worshiped in the shrine where your tamed the elements. The jewel of souls was yours to keep, yet priestess, your soul no one could save.

Priestess, what has gone wrong with the world? Why has it forgotten you or the works that you had done? Why, priestess, have they forsaken your care, when you cared for it so ? Why priestess have the elements conquered you when you were weak?

With eyes as calm as the clear winter sky, the Priestess looked at me. Her soul-less eyes just got cold at the thought of the answers which resonnated in the heartless bosom on her. She looked at me with no emotions, the black of her eyes shining bright. But, her answers did not come quickly, although she kept looking at me.
Her long hair rustled by the wind, her pale skin glistening at the winter sunshing, and her long dress quivering at the cold. She stood quite looking at me. Slowly she disappeared with the elements, leaving me standing at the spot where the priestess ruled 

Blank walls, silence of the soul

At times, blankness takes over my soul and all I can do is for it to get over with. Streams of thoughts, they just die out and the spark of life goes off without a trace. Blankness, combined with its sister - numbness can surely be a blessing, for the mind, which is throttling to go. Unfortunately, blankness is not easy to achieve and once it has entered your life, you do not want to give it up.

How do you define blankness? It is the state, when your mind becomes inactive and stops thinking for itself. It goes on something akin to an automatic pilot and then the events flashes past your mind like leaves on a windy day.
It is a blessed feeling, you know because you are not tossed and turned in the various things, of life It calms you down, it just makes you go numb for some time. If you are tired physcially, the mind might not be. It might just be a sleeping monster which is ready to raise it head till it can't go on. Blankness has its own taste. It tastes of honey, it takes of sandal and its fragnance is that of love.
It does not make much sense, this concept of blankness, to those who have not experienced it. But to those , who have gone through it, it makes you alive for all the more reasons. 

Eclipse of love

Once again, I want to talk to you, but I know I will never be able to. Once again I wish to see you smile to feel you near me yet I do not know what to do. What I had for you was eclipsed by the darkness in my heart, which had taken hold of me. You, know I am not sure why after so many days, have I started thinking about you. Why do I have this great urge to see you, to see you smile, when there was a time you gave all that you had to come close to me and I ran away?

What were the things that made me run away from you? To be certain when I think in the hindsight, I can't find any concrete reason. Was I uncertain about your affections towards me? No when I think of it now, I guess I was a tad bit uncomfortable of your warmth. The fool that I am, instead of being comforted, I got scared and left you.

You, know I too was like you once. I was full of love, wanted the person, with all my life yet I did not understand that the expression of interest must have been annoying to the beloved. My beloved then must have felt the aversion which I had gone through, when you came to surrender all yours to me.
To be honest I was scared that I would freaking loose the belief I had of freedom. It is tough to acknowledge love, and inspite of my brave words I was not able to do so.
It has to be love, or something, very similar to it, else why would my heart yearn to see you again? Why do you come to my mind, when ever I pass through the place where you stayed? I know this would hurt you, but I have to confess, my heart skips a beat when I pass through those roads, which you frequented.
I remember the night when I had kissed you first, by the river. I remember the nights when I first made love to you., But alas I forgot how to take down my guards. That I belief was responsible for me not to be in love,. I wish you were not so nice, I wish I was not such a big fool. I wish things would have been different with me being less neurotic, but I know it is too late and I have lost love, which you had given unconditionally to me. 

Love, Lovers and memoirs of Love lost

You know, this might sound odd as I am not sure if you would ever go through this blog of mine, but I had the urge to write about this. Has been ages since we have bidden good bye, with me congratulating myself of my aloofness, but yes I have started missing you. Missing you, is not easy, given the fact that I was responsible for the state we are in now.
You were strange, with the glee in your eyes, and the general sense of euphoria you had when you were with me. I thought you were immature, and I thought you did not know what you were getting into. For me, I had no realisation why I had started on this journey, with you when I did not want to get into anything from the first place. Why was I so hell bent to get out of it, when I got into it, is also something I do not understand yet.
Yes, I was repelled at the idea of you being close to me, and I do not know why I had that feeling. But when yesterday, I again saw your picture something stirred in me. I have been fighting that feeling, of the strange emotions which rises in me, at times, when I am silent. Now, I can understand that it is those moments that I had shared with you, that I miss. No, I was not in love with you, do not know even if I can ever be in love with you, yet I had shared something intimate with you, which I miss.
Yesterday, was again one of those days, when I started to miss you. Missing you is not an easy emotion as I am not sure what I miss about you. May be I miss the warmth of another human being, the security of those eyes, which used to worship me literally, but yes I do miss you.
Given a chance, I am not sure if I would like to go along with you. We are different in more than one way, what I want I am not sure who can give, what you want I am not sure if I can give. My search would continue, the longing of my heart refuses to go, but I am not sure what I can do about it.
You had come, you were there to share the longing, but I being a coward came out of it. I am not sure, if I am sorry or if I  can ever be pardoned but I know I had loved you even if it was for a fleeting moment. 

Dream Time, Winter time

The play of light and shadows, the mystic sunshine, trapped between the dark leaves of the tall trees, cast their own spell on me. With the golden sunshine, blurring my vision, time seems, to stop or slow down. Is it me, or has really the good old Earth gone slow on her axis?
May be there is something poisonous in the air, which seeps into my system through my skin that makes my vision at times really strange. Like the other time, when the road ahead had suddenly become an illuminated island of pale yellow sunlight, colouring all the mundane with its shine. Although, I was in a hurry, suddenly, I stopped or was forced to stop to watch the spectacle of nature at her best. I expected the spirits to come crawling out of their shadows immediately to ask me "Who do you seek that you fail to see the miracle being played daily?'
All of  a sudden it was as if a new world was unhinged before me, with secret doors slowly opening to a parallel world of slowness and grace. Simple acts, had become for that fleeting moment something beyond comprehension and loaded with grace. Grace, normally associated with that of movement of an experienced dancer become the order than the exception. A rabid dog, crossing the road, or the dry leaf of tree floating down the asphalt was filled with Art with a capital A. Was it what is called as mindfulness that you suddenly realise the beauty of the world at large?
The vision faded as soon as it came, but it has remained with me and I guess at times I just slip into that world which I do not know exists or not. But yes, when ever I see that golden sunlight, I can feel the magic which makes music becoming something tangible and I wish I get lost in that world

Terrors of the night

Silent waters, hide monsters which can create a whirlpool powerful enough to destroy the shores. Behind the silence of the eyes, lies those monsters who are chained to their doorpost by the power of the mind. The mind is a strange den, it shelters the monsters, chains them down and at the same time tries to make them free.
The last many days, are lost in trying to understand the terrors of the night which refuse to go. Sleep, the abode of rest has turned all of a sudden into a wrestling match between the leashed monster and the unarmed  him. When his conscious mind, goes to rest, the monsters become impatient and they try to get free. He trains them and chains them, but what is the guarantee that they will not snap their chains into two?
From whence do these monsters rise is a question he has not been able to answer. At times, when anger gets the better of him, he keeps quite to see the dark monster rising within The monster is a sly one, he catches him when he is not prepared. Even now, while he keys away his thoughts, the monster lurks behind his mind trying to get out. Is the monster his creation, or does his heart shelters a being, which he knows not?

The answers to these queries he does not know. But he hopes the monsters resolve their tirade against him soon. Who will he speak to to seek the answers?