Broken pieces

He put the broken vase together,

loved it,

painted it.

Then one day

he smashed it

back to a million pieces.

***

for a little time

No matter where i am physically, i am  actually, mostly, at a place like this.. quietly by myself, feeling melancholic, sweet pain always in the heart, overwhelmed with the sheer big-ness of the world i have come to live in, for a little time...

A Note on Mithya

It is ironical that for all the value we give to the rational, life is primarily governed by the irrational. Love is not rational. Sorrow is not rational. Hatred, ambition, rage and greed are irrational. Even ethics, morals and aesthetics are not rational. They depend on values and standards which are ultimately subjective. What is right, sacred and beautiful to one group of people need not be right, sacred and beautiful to another group of people. Every opinion and every decision depends on the prevailing myth. Even perfection is a myth.

~ myth=mithya by Devdutt Pattanaik

Sometimes, its astounding - the complexities of human kind. We are a billion different worlds co-existing in a complex grid, directly and indirectly effected by every other entity, human and non-human. Our minds concoct a picture of a shade, motion, sound, script and actors of its own choosing, many times unaware of the colours and shadows and noise from other parallel pictures. 

i think sometimes, that one of the more intelligent ways to exist is to always, always negate the adamance of our ego, our desire for approval, for respect, for admiration. To always remain humble and harmless, and patient. To remember that our self is insignificant, but the potential of our energy is unlimited. 

Every thought- expressed or unexpressed, is energy. Love, sorrow, hatred, ambition, rage... once felt, they spread through the air and they linger and they cling. 

But we don't understand, we don't realise. We see only what is near us - blind in perspective, eager for our desires. We are slow in learning, quick in judging and mostly foolish. 

A billion worlds. A billion afflictions.... all huddled on this tiny speck of blue dust.

I Will Be There

At Dusk

In the evening, when the sun has disappeared from the horizon of the city, and the light beyond the window is like a floating wisp of air about to leave, the birds make a little fuss settling down for the night, and my mind feels sad for the day coming to an end.

For ends remind me of cold mornings in January and cold evenings of February, when the world had become a blur of mute screaming noise and frozen movements. It had rained on both the occasions, a dreary deathful rain, seeking to wipe out all joy from life, all smiles from my sinless lips.

A strange moment during dusk happens each day, a moment between light and darkness, a moment between the known and unknown... a little window to a world where shadows have life, a realm of a possible meeting of the living and the dead. That moment, if caught, can tear away our false sense of well-being, certainty and intelligence... and make us breathe the air of a strange nether world, whose smell can make us remember old forgotten memories of centuries ago.

What is true, what is a shadow? What is life, what is death... where do we live, how do we exist. How many dimensions are there to a point of my life? Might we be living in one frequency, in a shared space and time, with other beings of another world?

Can the shadows see me, hear me, feel me....................... do they know me?

.

The eternity of loss

I am drunk with my memories
of the stars in the sky
that i saw with you
up in the hills one night…

The flowing hair
in the blowing wind
as i curled on to you
in the winding greens.

It is as if time doesn't exist
and everything is eternal
i just have to close my eyes
and everything dead comes alive
to devastate me forever…

The failed species

As if these living days are a fictional account in someone's schizophrenic head, and there is no respite from the constant story-telling, and how the players suffer… the sheer idiocy and myopia of a billion of such heads…

The travails of this world are due to stupidity and ignorance. Might be, stupidity due to ignorance. They say, every single person is fighting their own battle of life. But in reality, most of us are only fighting our own obsession over ourselves - our conditioned ideas, opinions, needs and dreams, our weaknesses, fears and insecurities.

How we ache to be free, and how we constantly imprison ourselves in chains of our own creation...

Liberation is so near, and yet so far. How have we managed to come this far, chained as we are..? Or, have these chains become part of our species that burden us with its rusted heavy metal...