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.

Advertisements

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?

The Breakdown of the Presence

On the very first day of this year, I saw myself losing to spilling milk on the shelf by the virtue of excessive ignition on the stove. I went ignorant for a second to witness the new blueness of the year on the sky. I was wrong. I should have been careful…
As the world have shifted places, numerous words being put into our head, with newer views bracing our eyes and all those days and months we have spent in exploring the unexplored, I seem to believe more in maturity that is skipping out sight every awhile. With crook words and unforgivable incidents shaping our today’s self, I’m getting paranoid as to where are we heading to, and before I sleep, I want to make sure, as I write, that I get to what I wanted to, not what the world wishes me to or where they find me mingling up with them. Basically, in easy description, it could be like ‘ Finding out the real you’. I find that really cliche to write..
So, breaking soon the presence is what put to strike everyone’s right chord. It’s like correcting the basic grammar of the lyrics of life. It could be baseless, of course, pointing the poetry at it’s authenticity to prove what’s it trying to depict. See, no one likes playing goofs with time. It asks for clarity, but I’m sorry I can’t be clear enough.
I am the present you see, and I’m struck at nothing. I see a wide horizon through the window of my room shaping up my today. Even, a blatant kick at my back does the same job with greater efficiency. I walk through the roads that ferries me to my place daily. My car gets the job done for me with a push of my feet, even faster. I often ask people of my adequacy with them. The answer approximately comes positive. Few discussions with my notebook bring me same reply and even with more “true that” factor.
The memories that I have with me today is worthless if it doesn’t corrects me to what I do to fix my today. I fail my purpose if I don’t suggest my surrounding to be better. Silence could be fatal if I choose it to be my guest at all timesIf such words of mine are out in public, it shall be an outage as to what it really means. It shall be failure again if it fails to be understood. All in all, its a failed situation I’m into. Standing on the tip of the mountain I see and feel nothing but my breath getting high as there’s no one around. By the way it’s not the mountain I was supposed to be on. The Stars, they say, don’t light up the nights here!
I witness too much of “I’ness”, that’s once lost. Hesitance in acceptance of the truth of missing. That’s fine with me if I don’t skip a beat to the miraculous that’s bound to happen. Failure doesn’t surprises me anymore. I accumulate lots of winning attires on my body as just another thing shaping me my today. Fancy, it’s just another night and blow of emotion pushing me to admit what’s easy on life. Pity if it’s place in seclusion wherein I pledge to confuse life with a fairy tale; the sun doesn’t teach us the lesson of being consistent or we have finally found the concrete reason of as to who made this world and for what purpose!
Here it goes, a random talk on life!

She Came. She Saw. She Conquered.

 

She was in a tussle what to choose and what to loose. With loosened heart and frightening breath, she started walking towards the brightly lit stage. Her hair a bit curly, and lessened moisture on her lips, she glared the pavilion around her, blushed with humans all similar to her, all sheltered with a grey sky.

She skipped her hand on the microphone, binning away the lust of time and discovering the reason of being her. All her efforts have to answer now, with the the whole world leaving her not even a chunk of choice. She administered her soul and with misty voice she spoke,” Hello!”.

 

This she heard never from herself. She knew, the world welcome salutations. Now, she have to reply to herself, her modesty trembling again. ” I speak of nothing but truth, and forever shall the truth bestow the lives of everybody and now after being speech impaired for the whole of my life, I can admit… If I can have a voice, you can too! Give your voice a reason. The world listens to those who are strong enough to prove their point. Many gets a voice with destiny; give your destiny a return gift!”

 

She could hear the applause. This wasn’t for the voice she had, but the struggle and the aim she had for herself carefully crafted in her story. Her story, her little world of being the impossible and letting the world believe that wonders happen every time, this time again.

 

She, Ms. Anjana Noor, Creative Head at Gandhi Institute for Deaf and Dumb, who was speech impaired for 22 years of her life unknown to the fact that she could one day speak, ‘voiced’ her story at a gathering in New Delhi, India.

 

 

 

Being Foolish

For all people searching the meaning of life…

Who do we say is foolish?

 

I see the foolishness all around.

That’s my foolishness for bearing all the foolishness that this world have.

Now, I be the foolish; to not label myself foolish or my family members or my peers .

My belief that I rub everything above and never let the world know what really a foolish is; is foolish.

Or my posture or my behavior or my intention or only myself being just,foolish.

 

At any point of time, some sort of alien intelligence is surely due to over ride your abilities. Before a strong competitor, you surely going to lose. And at the end, nothing is going to matter.

What’s this ‘alien intelligence’, who’s this ‘strong competitor’ and what’s exactly the’ end’?

The answer no one knows the answer to, the lust that no one can ever fulfill and the future that any other distinction cannot hold, is the answer. We are hesitant to recognize, realize and prove, failing to acknowledge, but curious to know. We hold our hands together, trace our faces, and walk by our sides, but still…

 

Still we find our destinations and still we prefer going back. We label ourselves travelers, who finds his destinations and is equally determined to get back where he started, maybe to just let the world know, where he started. And where he started is where the world can start. Not just follow the footsteps but just prefer finding a little new way, a sweet other fruit to taste.

 

Label me foolish for letting you stroll where no one else does.

 

James Clear says,” Motivation is overvalued. Environment often matters more.”

I believe he’s right. Sorry for being foolish, believing in what others has to say. Or not others but somebody. Or somebody with something special.

 

Foolish is being identified. Being known.Being yourself.

The answer that I somehow, came to know.

And felt to foolish to spread…

 

There’s All Spams Existing that Exists

And such is a phenomenon. When it rains in dire summers, it’s acid rain that rains.

 

Listening to my favorite artist shuffled anomalously while on the go may probably be the best thing that happens with me most of the time. Because there I feel a little fortunate, a little alive and a little connected with The Almighty in the means of transferring ideas and demands and getting them fulfilled within a specific time repetition.

 

And so with this happiness, the wheel of life keeps rolling…

 

Here, this time its not really about Being Fortunate or Being Alive or Being Connected.

Its about Life which features nothing like this.

 

I am about to introduce a concept named ‘Certain‘. Feel free to relate it to yourself at times. It all begins at severe verbal with oneself. An introspection. Its controversial at times being being possessive but Hello! This is how this happens!

 

  • Certain crisp voices are feeling free to get scripted over this space.
  • Certain factors are irresistibly powerful to just let go.
  • Certain events have led us here.
  • Certain memories, beliefs have inspired to be like this.
  • Certain emotional inferences ,probably, are more practical than the world itself.
  • Certainly you have nothing better other than being here.

 

Certainly you are in a Trap, because that Certain is nothing more than a spam, unto a percentage of a guess. You are just a Certain.

 

And everywhere there are spams existing all around. The race is to stand as a leader of all.

Certainly, its not a demotivation at all, I must confess, but atleast its an introspection.

Because its just a beginning…

 

P.S : I am glad that people from various communities and I don’t know from which particular sites are viewing or commenting on this blog with all the positive or negative reviews. But it is requested please DO NOT comment as a spam on this blog. Akismet will automatically designate it as spam and due to security reasons, I cannot approve those comments on this blog until and unless these are not from a secure or trusted or atleast specified source.

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.