When Mind Resonates

Today while reading something, I remembered an old conversation- I had with my daughter a few years back, She was hardly six then, That moment had touched me- And I had jotted that instance down Which went like this: My daughter told-  Recollecting our previous talks, Which was her curiosity session, And going a bit further, she said:  “Everything is made of chemicals, Even you and me…” I nodded my head in agreement, A bit astonished that she had extrapolated, Further from what I had said. Her curious eyes glittered- She raised an eyebrow and said again  While playing with her doll, “But there's something that's not Chemical in this world…” I expectantly looked at her- Though I knew it would turnout wrong, Hiding my thought, I calculated  How would I be saying that she got it wrong, But, she said: “letters…” She reminds me oft- That I need to learn from her! This was just another moment. Children point the depth of ignorance And the false sense of knowled...

The last ivy leaf becomes a masterpiece...* You don't need to be a billionaire to be generous, It's not an act of money But of an intense mind. Sometimes, when you paint the leaf In stormy rains, the generosity  Swells and spills into altruism; Where even asymptote touch the curve! Some show grief Some don't And some don't feel it- Which is a problem, You cease to be human, that moment! Generosity stems from the grief- You feel for the other who is in misfortune, Life moves on- We can't behave blind, It's not to just watch, But to respond. This journey towards merging- Back into the substance of life, The earth, to be back as molecules- That life is made of… Let's make our masterpiece- Be it an ivy leaf! Probably the hardest of strokes to make… And beyond altruism- Is the sense of bond you feel- For the rare ones, For whom you would give beyond life; Walking the journey together towards the end- Where everything cease to exist, Still the feeling o...

We expect people and life to behave In a certain way to us, But as the past has revealed- People and life at large has - It's own way of doing it! What we miss to recognise is that It was something to happen so- Though it could have been bitter Distasteful and extremely unwelcome. Every dot is connected to the next… When we connect it from a distant past- We find a marvel, subdued in the chaos! Like the patterns of stars forming The constellations, and we name them! The train you missed, The traffic jam, The broken bike, The awful relation- Either saved you or taught you- Letting you live the today, and the tomorrow, In a better way than you would have- Without those mis-happenings… Everything has a reason- Just that your wisdom to reason it- Is yet to be 'gained'! 'What happened, is happening And ever will happen, is for good!' The people you met, who stayed And who left in the midst- Taught us how to live the life ahead! Yes, we are humans  And we do m...

Walking again the desolate roads Calm and silent by the river, Neglecting the drizzle giving me company; I thought to myself- Is it only me who listen to ghazal For a morning walk! That too played in a loop? Nature, music and books- That held me in sanity: Though the term is questionable, And I acknowledge the moments- When nothing helps,  And you have to go through it as it is. As Robert Frost observed, 'The best way out is through...' Sometimes, you need to succumb  And accept the moment  And the emotion as it is. Acknowledge the grief, the disappointment- The excruciating pain, the loneliness... When nothing can give solace, It's better to accept the moment- Rather neglecting, act upon- Sometimes you can do nothing about the moment- Be in the darkness and silence- Gather up your shattered self, Put the smile again and walk ahead. Ghazals are after all not a bad choice- For a morning walk… May be, it's being stupid- But it's best to be your stupid self...

Abruptly when it gets dark, And I find it difficult to find my way; Hold my hand and walk me through, I know you have the lantern with you. Ignite it and show me way... When I know that the land is done The way ahead is through water, I know destiny won't come to me; I need to walk towards it through my way… What if the muddy land that pulled me down, And almost killed me is done; With you I would walk over the waters too, You teach me ways beyond the tales! Hold the lantern and show me way Hold me tight that I won't fall mid-way, I'm fine with silence, but do smile along, Looking deep into my eyes- Chanting the sacred mantras in mind… I would cherish these moments, That you were beside- The moments when you lead me When astray, blind in pitch darkness. I like being guided- Though you let me walk ahead. Picture courtesy: https://pin.it/2xqPLJM

Away from chaos, Away from beings, Away from hurts, And the harsh realities of life… It's a wild irony of happiness, To remain in the pit of mis-happenings… The daylight terrifies that being within- Residing cloaked, Curled up at the darkest corner. Night gives solace, Darkness seem cosy, And the fire gives warmth… The stars tell stories, Stories told as I went to sleep as a kid. As if under the caring wings, I sit under the gulmohar, Who knows me in and out; The strange, the difficult, The hysteric, the unpleasant. I remembered a time when  I carried Bible with me- It was a source of courage and solace. Now I carry another book- That people judge me with it's 'title' And stay away not bothering! People know the you they see, Very few perceive the you within. Some over time and some Somehow instantly!  May be those has a bit of you in them, That let them pick it quick. The night will be over soon, Need to be ready to face the sun. The colours would emerge- T...

Every problem is an opportunity, Every fall calls for a rise, Every tear asks for roaring laughters, And in every moment resides a memory! There is a time to start, Time to stay,  And a time to elegantly leave… There is a moment to think, To talk, and to listen. A good listener is not the one who just listens, But the one who express it- Not as an advice but as acknowledgement, Of the tales you are listening to. Absence of that intermittent acknowledgement, Gives away a feeling of being unheard. The acknowledgement by a word, A pat or even a wink! Sometimes even a smile. You can't sit in your cave And expect people to visit you, Occasionally they may- But it will be great if you gear up, Go ahead and refresh relations. You need people to laugh with, Than while you silently sob in closets. The real pals make the moment of agony- To flip sarcastically, making you smile through tears… Problems are relentless in life, So is your ability to face it and beyond, You decide whe...

It isn't easy to express the 'you' as you are, The honest manifestation of you- Is raw and clear and unpolished. The emotions are unchecked and 'real'- It might prick the ego points in people- It may have you painted and classified… The society we live in like to classify- Though reality is that we are all blends-  Who don't fit in a single classification! Ashes are definite to form if you burn; If you won't, then how will you light? Light, own ways and of others whom you cling on to... Darkness is definite, so is the stars- Burn until the sun arrives… Ashes are reminiscence of your past, But the light outshines them… It's better to burn and be the ash And be with earth, than be mossed- Ultimately dissolving in earth itself. Destination is to be back to earth- Choose your path, to burn or decay. Picture courtesy: https://pin.it/1j8P5pf

When I look into myself I find memories… Memories, that's sweet, sour and bitter… It never occurred that it will vanish some day Or there could be a probability- Of even not making new ones! This would have been something- That I would have already dreaded If I had ever known it in proximity, I do fear that the letters will walk away too- When I struggle to remember that apt word! Me dissolving into the darkness- Unable to decipher the stars out there, Feeling disoriented, as if in a maze, Lost in the midst of 'known' unknowns- The wine of memories spilled From the broken tumbler of life,  Never to be recovered and savoured- As it got more wonderful with time... I was always afraid of disownment- Which I myself couldn't explain to me, Now it seems irrelevant- When you are unaware- Disownment- too goes into that Sea of unknowns… Where nothing will matter anymore! And I will forget you, And I will forget the memories, The memories we together made… The memorie...

I always used to do something  It was unusual to be idle. As a kid, for me, idle was to be in deep thoughts, While I worked on something- Like picking ilanji flowers, While thinking of all possibilities- Of where I can hide the mangoes, Or eating the flesh from the kokum fruit- And thinking of plucking the red cashew apple, As it was few and rare- And the yellow ones were abundant. As I grew, I felt it was necessary to be doing something always. Being unwell was a nightmare- Though I constantly was ill. Books were the reason to be engaged. There was guilt of doing nothing That always frothed… I had hard time enjoying idleness- Until one day I realised, You can enjoy doing nothing. Sometimes that's when you can rejuvenate you- Look into yourself and understand What you really are. What you really wish to be- And that this moment is never to come again- Therefore just to be in the moment. It was never easy, But I do it better now. Sometimes we need to go to factory settin...

We were on a mission I was in one among the many trucks; The cold was filtering into The bones through my uniform. Reflexively I smiled, remembering My daughter laugh, and again laugh  At me winking at her. She never got tired of laughing At the very same act repeated Over and over again... I wondered why grown ups  Can never do the same… Why do they lose interest On repetitions that's innocent… My fellow being raised his eyebrows Quizzed by the smile I bore… I winked at him And he too smiled. “O! My angel I miss you so much…” Then it was just a bombardment  That I remember… Flames lurking all around, Cries reverberating, I felt the dreams and reveries Being shattered at the moment To be transformed to prayers And ardent blessings, And her flamboyant smile still clear… “O my dear, look at the stars There I will be winking at you Love you, your Paa…” Tribute and salute with tears... Regurgitating Pulwama attack. Picture courtesy: https://pin.it/7u67aBY

Time is contextual these days, The most used word being busy. You stretch yourself to find time- For the prime 'things' in life. I have seen the most 'busy' people- Living life in ease. They have time for 'everything' And 'everyone', including you. I wonder of a stranger finding them to be jobless, Than realising them being considerate! 'Realising being considerate' in itself, I feel carries an innate curse! Every moment you spent with this person- Seems to be too precious to be  Spent with 'trivial' you… You being trivial being an assumption… You forget to live the best moments And sometimes you deny yourself- Those best moments… The 'time' fallen off  between your fingers, Like the sand at the sea-shore- Can't be regained and re-lived. Path towards your destiny is your choice, So is the choice of how you wish to live it… You will reach the goal, The question is: what you find when you turn And look back at the fa...

Childhood, the distant past, A pleasant tingle arise in depths- As memories tickle the senses… The trivial things that were of prime importance… I still feel, I have reminiscence of that, Still wiggling in me… The trivial things that trigger emotions- Laughter, tears, or even immense gush of love! Then I used to treasure the stupid things- The rubber seeds, red beads of manjady- The match box stickers, the colourful- Round marbles with beautiful colours blending within; Watched mesmerised, wondering- How the peculiar flawless colourful shapes formed within that green transparent sphere! Anything tiny that glittered, Anything that was 'unusual'... Even a pebble, sometimes a leaf- Not to mention, the peacock feather- Resting inside notebooks, Running behind the pappus- the grandpa's beard- That never stopped enchanting… Blow of wind over the sweaty skin After day long plays- Giving the lovely feeling of cooling warmth… The mulberries at the forbidden end of yard, B...

I know, I seem monotonous sometimes, Telling and re-telling stories- Where rain becomes an undenied entity… It's the memories that we connect to In the most visceral way; Even thespians might not argue The invisible thread that connects us to the past, The past that sometimes was never lived, The past sometimes even never existed! But somehow it's in our past- May be in some past births that we are unaware of! Your story and mine blend somewhere, In the infinite past, Where we existed as one, The moment before we split to explore our ways! And when drenched in this rains- Relinquishing my belongings, I sit quietly, dangling my legs- Off the branch, beneath the umbrella of foliage… I can't stop being mesmerised by this phenomenon, The rain! Yes, I'm wet, Yes, I'm cold, Yes, I do miss my home… Still can't stop loving to watch you. Monotonous I am- Forgive me, it's relentless love for this pour- It's the 'me' being reflected in it, Proba...

When I know that I'm insane- I still try to have a straight face, Re-assuring of the surety of being normal… And wonder what determines normal! The arbitrary line which separates Normal and abnormal… Being normal is to follow rules? Rules! I'm not against- Again that's a blurr though… The 'ethical' concerns of frozen embryos- That will never be a 'human'- The 'generational' re-evaluations of right and wrong, Right becoming wrong and wrong becoming perfect right, And apologies fly to the victims of 'right' and 'wrong'! Who would be then residing in a world- Where it doesn't matter anymore... The suffocations in silence- For the sake of 'world'?! And you lose your strings loose- As you laugh out instead of crying hard, You smile instead of jamming the fist- Against that mocking fine nose! Until you find your voice screaming- In the 'politest' of the way, Realising you were too late- To act upon, your silences- Misgui...

Today, on my way back, My eyes got struck on a lady- She was almost gobbling the contents  Of a paper-cup, while the auto- She traveled raced through the traffic. I smiled, and something ignited my brain, And an old memory flashed… I was flying back home. I had a sandwich just before departure. It was around four hours flight… The stewards and hostesses Asked for the meal preferred- I denied straight, that I was full. As we were nearing the destination- Half an hour away from landing; My stomach growled, As if reading my expression- The steward asked: 'you need something?' I said that I'm feeling hungry- He was like, 'whether cup noodles will do?' My eyes could have said it all. He arrived with a cup noodle- I put my apology, I knew the pantry was closed. He smiled and asked: 'how many months?' The tiny bump of belly hidden in my jacket- Was not that noticeable. I said in blush- it's six… I asked, how he knew. He told, he just knew. I don't remember ...

It rained, reluctant to find the shades I simply got drenched in the pour… Unsaids and unlived pouring off! I wished to go into trance, And just stay unaware of everything around... Somehow nature seemed adamant That I don't melt off in the moment, Abrupt was the closure of rain! I felt disowned, unbelonged… Despair waved up, I felt like half poured rain cloud Heavy with the unshed drops… Until it started raining, it could be held, Once was off, the reminiscence  Felt heavier than before! I walked reluctantly carrying the heaviness; Expecting to pour off as it again rains- Just for me… Heaviness within seemed to suffocate- The depths of my soul… I'm not asking for rainbows- But for a heavy pour- Wild, raw and primordial… When everything else cease to exist- When we unite in the primitive- Where everything re-emerges As re-incarnations post dissolution  Of the existing creations… When bemused consciousness Converge at the lotus blossom! Let me pour off with you...