Wordly

My single fish takes perhaps her zillionth round,
In her fish-bowl,
I watch her orange skin, shine,
There is a buzz,
Distinct,
Breaking the stillness of this night.

Oxygen, the generator that generates it,
Buzzes,
Breaking every single thought of mine,
Into a hundred shards.

I have decided,
Randomly,
To begin doing what I love,
More often.

Simple,
Is it not?
Then again I ask you,
Is it?

I have decided for perhaps the millionth time,
To write,
Write words So pretty
So honest, So true,
These words promise not to be anything more
Or anything less
They promise only to exist in time.

It is my treat,
To me.
A treat,
I plan to indulge in,
Guilt free.

I cannot make promises
Of a blog a day, a word a day even,
I do take my promises,
Far too seriously.

Journey with me,
And my words.

Something, something tells me,
This is about to be fun,
And just so that you know,
You didn't hear me say a thing.

Buzz...
Buzz...
Buzz...
It's certainly not me,
It's that generator,
That keeps my orange skinned fish alive.

 

Over Time.

Across time,
And tide.
She seemed to rise.
To thrive,
To search,
For what she must.
Ages; they seemed to shed,
Like a snake its old skin.
Seeking, she returned.
Astute, Aware.
Love...she sought.
The kind you make.
The kind you take.
Each life...
Another note she made.
As she walked,
Towards heavens gate,
She plead...
'Send me not,
Back to the earthly realm,
For the more I learn,
The more I yearn.
My lesson is now learnt.
For true love...
Exists...
In ways and in means,
In darkness and in light,
In moments of love and in lust.

If ever I seek I shall find.

For Love forsakes None.'

Stamped.

He speaks volumes,

Of each facet,

Unexplored,

Unexplained,

Leaving just a window,

Slightly ajar,

I take a peek,

My mind alive; anew,

I am led...amazed,

Mesmerized, allured,

Into the dungeons of time,

And space,

Awake, aware,

Stumbling into the unknown,

Willing, Wanting,

Unfaltering,

Each sense heightened,

Each thought processed,

In awe,

Of life and what we choose to make of it.

His voice clear,

Unwavering,

Pushes me,

To plunge to the depths,

I dint think existed,

Only to rise again,

To the heights,

I never dreamed possible.

And in the intricacies of the rise and fall,

I hear my thoughts,

All my own,

Not stamped by approval;

Not colored by upbringing;

Not falsified by love;

Not pressured by circumstance;

Distinct in its birth,

As perhaps, 

In its death,

Leaving me alive,

In its wake.

Change.

    Truly, the only constant in life is Change. Like it or not, believe it or not, embrace it or not. Each day brings with it possibilities aplenty to accept and prepare for. The choice as always rests in the person who stares back at you each morning in the mirror. Change can be expected, unexpected, terrifying, stupefying, life-altering either for the better or the worse. Depending again on the kind of person you really are. The battle often lies in that very reality, knowing who you are.
     It often amazes me to think why we fear things. It seems rather ironic. Since the day we are born, we constantly keep changing, unconsciously, consciously, a response built in to survive. Yet, when change presents itself to us, the instantaneous reaction in most people is fear. We are born to die. That is a fact of life. But what is also equally accepted is what you do in the interim as a person is what defines you. So if life decides to throw a googly at you, now and then, the best you can do is chin up and face the task at hand. Do it to the very best of your capacity, to the very best you possibly can and leave it be. Because at the very end of the day, this life, this one life you have as you is truly precious, truly worth living to the fullest, truly worth being thankful for.
    And as the wheels of my life spin on in frantic pace, I wake up, a day older than the night before. I hope in earnest that I live this life, as well as it deserves to be lived. Change being my (and the) only constant. 

Rambling on. A lazy friday evening...and me.

   Lying on a bed, white sheets, mattress, drapes, walls. Awake and yet asleep. Watching hairspray, the movie. Thinking, then not. Dreaming, some.
   Away from home. In a city, I don't fancy much. Alone, even if for a while. Aware.
   So much I want to do. So much. My soul aches, my heart yearns, and my mind tries its level best to anchor this ship, that longs for the wind beneath its sail.
  Often, I gaze into nothing. Silent, as a cold winter day. My heart still singing beneath a demeanour so placid. I watch the seconds turn into minutes and then hours. I wish upon each star, broken and whole.
  For magic, the kind I have always believed in. At each crossroad. I pray for an intervention of a divine sort.
   I believe in religion, my own. No caste or creed. No teacher or preacher. It has taken me a while to get here. And aware that there is a lot more to see, to be. I live and love as I wish to.
    Knowing that the best I can be is still me.

The point of no return.

Words stop,
Voices muffle,
Then cease.

I stand,
I watch,
I stare.

Time moves on,
Ticking,

The silence,
Looms large,
I sense it,
I see.

The crest,
The trough,
This thing,
We call life,
All remain,
A memory,
In the mind,
Of only,
The very hands,
Of time.

To what avail,
I wonder...

So as long as I can,
Both,
Kick and fight,
I live,
I love,
I strife.

Until...
I reach the very point,
The point of no return.

Silence.

Efforted, yet simple. Free flowing, caressing, loving. Seeing, like seldom seen. Honest, with no pretense. Seeking  and finding.  A voice, with no volume. Clear in its birth, certain of its course, unmindful of its death

The darkness, the light. The good, the bad. Boundaries diminished. All knowing, complete. The constant chatter, selective uptake. Making sense of nothing. Making nothing of sense.

Watching; like a cat its prey. Touching; like cold water on a hot day. Comforting; like a warm meal on a cold night. Understanding; like a mother, the wail of a newborn child. Quiet  in the madness. The din in the quiet.

Pristine, sparkling, all forgiving.

And then shyly, albeit with a sparkle in her eye, returns my sanity.








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