Rest

So deep in rest am I today,

And I think it won’t be enough.

I won’t wake up until it’s night,

Or a morning that I so hate.

 

Clever these people are, knowing where they would go,

And will move their bodies in hustle.

Messages will be pinged, appointments be made,

Places will they travel, quite a spectacular show.

 

Love, hatred, riches will be on display,

Their learnt lessons will be applied.

Will they lose or will they win,

Their day will answer all their queries.

 

Stepping out of a gloom and entering another,

It’ll be easy to forget which one was worst.

Juggling a lot each time will be the thing,

Till their days won’t be over.

 

I’ll watch them go, there they will be,

I’ll secure my wants for another life to come.

I’ll go once, a shot in the air,

Never to reach back, never to fear.

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Tik Tok

I’ve seen the clock struck the same hour every day. Saying it’s tickling all round the degrees and coming back and forth.

It creates a magical sound. Something like ‘Tik-Tok” or “Click-click”. It depicts the time is moving. Someone’s taking a birth, someone’s dying. Explain the process of getting closer to the happenings in the world every passing second, you can’t! We’re not supposed to.

So, even if it clocks not moving, time departure is not being depicted, or you’re careless enough to forget about time, time’s still on the move. Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok, can you hear it? No? Maybe you need to.

Tell me, how’s your life. That you can.

Imagination

When asked to draw a picture of a farmer ploughing his field in the dawn with fresh drops of sweat making it’s presence felt, and his sickle making the sand dance, my thoughts sickened to an end before I began thinking if imagination is more important than knowledge. What if I don’t know what a sickle looks like, for instance?

So drunk in darkness are we today, if a candle of bright thoughts sneak our brains, we stare away from the intensity of newness that has entered. Nobody wishes to hear the rhythm that life brings about. Nobody wishes to dance away all the bitterness that ponds amongst the banks of negligence. We don’t wish to step, even make a positive call. Lack of imagination takes over as a protagonist of a willfully meaningless story.

When the groups are assembled to practice an ambition, is it a legitimate preposition to approve of the inaccuracy of group to attain a certain goal by being the sole doer? Why fit in when you are born stand out! Imagine the doers in the world…. Do you have any knowledge about them?

Clearly one could sense there’s a serious foulness at play, but you walk in and out as you please. Imagine the level of courtesy the group members possess that they tolerate you as one of their own!

Why need to imagine the distinction of thoughts that I have brought together in this piece of writing if it’s already there in it’s truest form. One must not shy away form stitching these thoughts as all are entitled under one idea: imagination.

Imagine some more meaningless thoughts beyond this full stop.

An Evening Tryst With a Stranger

I had promised this disguised soul I won’t forget that discussion last evening. I’m here to get unapproved of me being a forgetful person, again!

I won’t much dive into the details into what made me talk to a stranger in a country where people are already in abundance but no one actually to share to, I will not be interpreting the event in any way possible. I would term that “person” as “she” for now.

So, last evening it was sun bidding adieu as it usually does, and it was certainly a time for recreation. For a deep sleeper like me, Internet is always an eye opener. So, Internet! There’s a website that offers login without identifying yourself and you could share with strangers around the world without getting known. Cool! So, my laptop was assigned to get this job done.

She was the first one to begin with a casual Hi! I replied with an ignorant Heya, while sliding my thumb along the social media on my phone on the other hand. To my utter surprise, she asked, ” Have you ever been in true love?” I decided to put an end to this convo. But something stopped me. It was to no obligation that I’ve to reply to that. But I did, in positive annotation.

I would easily make out that she was so keen to know with her number of question marks on several following questions. I answered them as adequately and carefully as possible. A evening feast of replies, better given than taken! At one or the other take she could easily make out that I was lying. Lying she declared was unnecessary. Her “maybes” and “maybe nots” were enough to make me realise she won’t open herself but make me spit my words out as easily as I was already spitting.

When asked about her age, she replied, “Anybody between 10 years and 80 years, you can put me wherever you want to be.” Pretty unconventional, for me at least! Her purpose to inquire me was uncertain and all I could I understand was she wanted to solve some problem of her and that she wanted to know what “boys of my age feel about the most divine thing in the whole world, love”.

Out of her dominance in the conversation she instructed me to love unconditionally and accusing me of pondering more than I should. A message has been delivered and took a note of it.

She had bet I won’t forget this conversation but I admit I got a dreamy sleep afterwards. It’s a waste of time. But lesson learnt. What I had I actually got to do, anyway?

You Don’t See!

Whilst staring at a young lad uttering some words in his mouth, I could make he’s in a lip sync with some sort of derogatory music. Cute he may be, little of it he may understand out of the words, but a dismal truth had hit me hard; I don’t see what I ought to see, life.

In the chaos of things, we hardly get time to introspect. Occasionally, we ask for our review from the people around. I may have read a couple of effective books, but I don’t sway away from feeling the inertia that the break of life gives. It’s hard to realise the failure after continued efforts of doing what was obvious. With the play of words, I try to relate today’s quest with every day that comes and with anyone willing to lead, experiences. The paucity of ideas shallows down my upright approach. I still drive while I see the details a little less. The danger of losing out eventually takes greater shape.

I love these moments!

When it’s the lights out time, dimming the pace of the day and seeing the breath drowning into an unknown world, I infer each and every word of mine said and listened to as a gift of knowledge. I see my grin lightening up the dingy stage of life. I even listen the littered unheard words of the people wandering across the night sky looking for listeners! I deeply regret for the wrong that I do but nevertheless, it hits the chords right.

If time would have every answer to every confusion that exists, I feel undesirably arrogant in knowing one. It hurts when trees speak when you dare seek silence in the forests. I wonder what this air have for me, does that make me an avid interrogator? I don’t think so. But I feel as to why those souls have every unrespectable answers on their tips. They see my silent but they don’t see me wobbling which I admit I do. If every awkward answer in an awkward situation needs an awkward answer for an awkward people, I’m not up for the job. The best is always left unsaid.

I surrender to the veils that people wear. I say to myself I don’t see anything. I don’t wish to

Way I Sound

Way I sound close and near, so calm,

Way world heard and narrated, so loud.

The show want me to say hard, and speak,

Let freedom set trends big and clear.

Not easily composed the time, it went questioning,

Again and again, those limits strained.

Limitless close to fear and dared to hate,

Life went short and high in meanings.

Not was my way nor did I say it should be,

But it flowed and never paused.

I set trends, one after the another,

It was me, all in me, all unclear.

Now I stepped into the world so new,

That millions words won’t enough be.

Straight road I murmur, it will see,

An end, a winner and a reward all clear.

Is it? Yes, it is!

I’m more like a coming on straight to issues that pushes us back a lot, diminishes ourselves and let’s us feel bad about ourselves in often times. 
Inspired by what I’m going to say in this pretty screenshot, it exclaims how brimmed our world is. Its full of poor, rich or mediocre people, people who nothing nothing, or people who at smart arts or people who are just living, things that exists, or is inexistent or waiting to exist, ideas that have become law, or ideas that mean nothing or the ideas that are about to come or events or emotions or values or everything that’s delightful to pay attention to, get compiled and be presented in a nicer way.  
These ages, these pages and these stages, why do anyone need them anymore? An insufficient question to diring need of the hour, or maybe the perfect question the way it has to be… 
With a whole lot of people getting engaged into stuff, and with people coming the e-motions and with the e-motions coming the changes, and so far the leading efforts of everything that’s happening with no censorship, no filters and no gatekeepers, how are we so equipped in doing in what we are doing? Where is the inspiration? How are we working on something that’s not been working out or on that that had already worked out or that’s unequivocal if it’s going to work or not? Or with still memories fading away and coming on like a seasonal change, how far are we really going to work on and still believe that’s it’s going to make an understanding? 

I think, the question is not in believing it or not. The question is not what is really going to matter or not. Or it isn’t like I’m going to get inspired with some slight change in my hormones while concerning a single idea that is motivational or it at best relates me or just it’s going to figure out what my next movement is going to be or if I shall put back my boredom, my anxiety, my enthusiasm or my Ability or anything that comes out of me and any confused blurry line of amusement or or a slight care to what I’m going to write, or what anyone is going to witness with me putting forward what I intended to do, what I’m going to do, if I concern that I’m writing about my concerns only or at last my words which are slightly trying to mould the root cause I’m trying to display. 
It ain’t about anything at last. 
Coming out of a Chaos when we reach home, we feel safe. We feel relieved because it’s how it has to be. Homes are built for sharing love, being in a family, relaxation and so on. It ain’t about a question if there should be anyone’s home or not, or what homes are about or what homes did good for you or what are you going to do with your home in any time. 
It ain’t been any question, it’s never been a commiseration for me or anybody, the only two existent sides of a life. It ain’t been anything… 
Its like nobody cares, but they do. They do because they have to, and there’s no choice whatsoever. This is how the world is built. But admires care is to what extent they have been in impact. Without this information of impact, nothing would have existed, even this blog post wouldn’t have. Or even me.