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. 

The Noise in The Backyard

I have been hearing this for quite awhile.

I have been ignorant to disregard it for an opportunity to listen.

 

But it had a meaning, inside that monotonous sound waves reaching my ear, it had a regularity and a clarity.

 

Let me just provide some essentials of this noise:

  1. It was coming from my backyard. This means i had put my back on it at all times.
  2. It was kinda repetitive. I can seamlessly figure the similarity between those waves at some time intervals.
  3. As it was a noise, it was really hard to listen. It kept stinging my ear and eventually my brain and the whole body.
  4. The source of this noise was initially unknown. Even though it was in my backyard, after raiding the location, I wasn’t really able to the origin of it.
  5. It wasn’t stopping alike incessant rains in the monsoons. You can just pray but it won’t stop. It won’t stop even you have ripped off all the trees in about 100 kms radius.
  6. You would literally realise the beginning and the end of the noise just like fade effects in music.
  7. It was trying to say something…

 

I had put my brains into it.

Thought I had lost immensely.

The thought was absolutely authentic until… I listened something else.

Like, something more important.

Something that I had experienced before but in, ignorance.

 

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,” My question…. was the simplest question, lying in every soul of every man from the foolish child to the wiser elder: it was a question without an answer to which one cannot live, as I had found by experience. It was :” What will come of what I am doing today or shall do tomorrow? What will come of my whole life?” Differently expressed, the question is:”Why should I live, why wish for anything, or do anything?” It can also be expressed thus: “Is there any meaning of life that inevitable dead awaiting me does not destroy?”

 

I had listened to the similar voice from my inside this time, clearly.

 

As I had got more engrossed into the subject, and eventually, the thought process had turned much more serious and demanding.

It took me days, weeks ,months and checkpoint of a year transition to interpret the signals. I still don’t believe whats been going on for quite awhile.

 

I tried conversing with the people in my circle to what it really could mean. Maybe, they could really help me out. Maybe they had experienced it before. Maybe, in their vicinities or maybe someone else could have expressed their views concerning the similar topic.

I sounded awful and awful I am sounding right now.

 

Let me just provide you some essentials of this voice:

  1. I knew the origin of the sound.
  2. I kinda recognise the events and ideas responsible for such origin.
  3. It also reverberates sometimes like a noise that I could barely interpret.
  4. The intervals it may come is pretty unclear.
  5. I may ignite them at times but cannot believe its happening.
  6. I maybe hesitate to offer myself a respite from the noise.
  7. It was trying to say something…

 

I had put my brains into it.

Distinctively, I had lost all hopes to interpret these signals.

The traffic was so high, I could barely walk along the sidewall.

I had hints, I gathered opinions just from myself, to where do these things lead to.

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,”One kind of knowledge did not reply to life’s question, the other kind replied directly confirming my despair, indicating not that the result at which I had arrived was the fruit of error or of a diseased state of my mind, but on the contrary that I had thought correctly, and that my thoughts coincided with the conclusions of the most powerful of human minds.”

 

I had got a slightest hint of my answer. But it was pending to be really understood. For if you go for straight opinion from an another human erred mind, it was a sin to commit that the same thing is happening with me which with God’s supreme decisiveness cannot happen. I wonder…

 

Nobody knew where I had arrived. My peers didn’t had a slightest hint and didn’t slightly I cared or bothered. But somehow I wanted them to have a realisation. I know it was all going to be vain or it was just better to be obscured. Maybe I wasn’t there enough?

 

All of the process wasn’t easy to render. It had taken much of my time and my valuables. And I still can’t figure out what was it upto, what is it motive, where it is leading to, when is this going to end, what more of myself is it going to take, or simply why?

I have not been backed off by myself during this tenure. I have going through jealously, competition or all simple facts of life that exist.

 

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,” Why does everything exist that exist, and why do I exist?” “Because it exists.”

 

This was a gamble I had made. Severely out of the strategy series of projections, possibly day dreaming of sorts. It had been so much successful in the hindering the situation of my mind. But it tried giving me real implications of existence and space in life. Its seldom tactfully jackpot to ask moronic questions where everybody exclaims how wondrous the demand is.

 

It was deliberately tailored scene before my eyes at all times. Like a rhythm that comprises of ups and downs and one-ups and two-downs. There was a hurry to transit every situation. Crisply  edited and graded movie of a sort.

 

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,” I understood that if I wish to understand life and its meaning, I must not live the life of  a parasite, but must live a real life, and taking the meaning given to live by real humanity and merging myself in that life – verify it.” 

 

I was stunned.

Stupefied, petrified like The Noble Laureate, John Nash told to his wife in the movie, A Beautiful Mind. 

 

 

 

 

The Summer of ’16

First of all, I would like you to acknowledge that this post is pure random and you may come across some serious mood fluctuations because this is how the post is meant to be.

The summer of ’16 is a dream come true. Actually, a nightmare.

I won’t hesitate committing to that fact because as Earnest Hemingway once coined,” The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.”
I found exponential increase in the reasons in agreeing with the second part.

The days are not worth looking out for.

The sun is up high, soaring 104 in the afternoons. That’s equally comparing yourself with corns dancing in a microwave.
But still, I must confess, I don’t necessarily complain but just remarking and really remarking to highlight the situation.
Transparent.

The nights are erratic.
Terrace is full of air.
Like a train is coming from the tunnel in an underground subway.
It’s admant to take me somewhere to a better place.

The personal prioties are higher than ever before.
Just because the knots are so loosely done with the world that I can only decisively choose myself.
It’s not a declaration again.
Extensively glorified expression it is.
To let your eyes explore more words for not much crucial information.

Tomorrow, I believe is better.
Better than today.
Because with something newer comes belief.
And following a belief is good.
As good as living, I believe…

Sing O Sing

Sing O Sing
Sing O Sing, my dancing body,
This in the wake of time.
Let it go a bit so oddy,
Live in the brink of chime.

Grasp as to world that listens,
Nothing but they want to hear.
Hail stone to the time that glistens,
Upon golden prizes hard to bear.

Sing wild and rough it may go,
Touch those chords never touched before.
Travel wide like a mountain blow,
Let those students celebrate their lore.

What this forgotten poet may know,
Forgotten he is in the pages new.

~ Yetesh Sharma @ The Writers’ Age

Based on the fact that even though the a human could be leading way ahead of his time, still the society deprives him of his capacity and forces him to retard his speed and work the manner the normal world works in.

Time To Steal

Yess, I won’t hesitate!

Whatever we are, we are the outcome of our surrounding.
We walk, and talk and behave and interact based on the visual evidences we persist on.

Surely, this tale requires some studious action-reaction chain.

Let me explain..

You know you cannot live in the Harmony for long.
Heavens are not heavens anymore. They have already fulfilled your every wish. You are so brimmed that your showcase isn’t bearing dust at all!

It is very hard to bear, it literally is.
Just that you cannot live without a quest. Or just can’t win a quest without any loss!

Even,in the process of food digestion, stuff gets broken into smaller pieces  in the course of which energy is lost and altogether  gained with the food that is eaten.
What if you just don’t require any food? A so-called technology’s invention.

Anyone?

 

The purpose of a being gets abruptly destroyed. The yearn of a being a totally devoid.

I got to steal now.
Right now.
Right here.

Let’s get into a chaos.
All together.
Like, one on one.
Or one for all.

Let’s hit and get hit back.
A wall isn’t enough to do.
Tease and get teased back,
Be the moron back again.

Or maybe just sit quite? No!
Why shall be so much noisy?
Be the palimpsest.
Be you!

Or the rest  is tomorrow,
Keep relying.
Keep dying.

Its the Time To Steal.

My Story 2016

I gave up once,
I gave up twice,
Everybody gave up on me,
This wondrous time.

But I’m still alive,
Buckling my belts up,
Struggling with life,
And never giving up.

I veil my ideas,
For the bad people,
For all the vice they have,
Hidden in themselves.

Its good to live,
Without a living title.
Sprint in the daylight,
And pretend you never walked.

So, let’s live on,
And never give up.
Easy to say,
Easy to believe.