For him

How your face like pendulum

manages to hypnotize my being

Curves of your eyes gaze into me

my soul and my words are silent

mesmerized by you, oh! you

My lover, My self.

I'm a mere reflection in the mirror

The thing that I see there,

right in front of me,

it seems alive,

behaving like my own body..

same gestures and same eyes.

Sometimes it feels fake

And I'm a mere reflection in the mirror.

PS: Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear to be.

Unbearable Lightness Of Being #MilanKundera

An author is generally judged as prolific by the first line of his/her novel, but Milan Kundera by the title of his books. He is a pro writer with excellent works in fiction, non-fiction and essays. The journey through the pages of this book has begun, I will let you read it with me and will share all the valuable parts of his mind in this fiction writ.
Well, lets read the first line first "The idea of eternal return is a mysterious one...to think that everything recurs as we once experienced it.....and that the recurrence itself recurs ad infinitum...what does this mad myth signify? ", this might turn out to be something I would never be able to judge!! Lets go on reader.

Visually

Its the same old story, wake up late and do not think at all about the forth coming day. That's how it is going. Then you realized you had a better plan than sleeping, you make a few calls and end up with nothing. You curse everything around you..for your life is as numb as it was a day before. No Plans! Is that it what your problem could be?

What else then? Move on! no other damn option in your life for your mind is fucked up by those small little things, want to sleep more?? Or watch TV or any movie? Its not good, better be sad, and wait for the night.

Argue! Spoil moods..yours and everybody around..display anger and frustration and fight till tears well down.

Aloof yourself from friends and any help, and sleep. Wake up in the night to cry alone, wishing if someone gives you one tight hug..blah!! That could never happen, you don't get it when you really need it. Next day compromise with life, stop fighting, and smile..yeah that's how they judge you fighter!

Understanding the web

What you do when while in your sleep you get caught in a web, and from there on you'd have to live within it howsoever you try to get out, it won't go. You'll make a relationship with it and may be later you'll start loving it...will understand it. Yeah! that's kinda forceful but what other option you have except to carry the dead loathed scum with you. That's how you're dealing with your present right now, forcefully. "The same old routine", how many times in a day you tell yourself that your path is not meant for you, this aint an ant-story like today I read in a novel, ants will survive the natural or man-made calamities by following each other, on the other hand you are gonna turn into ruins. You need a separate shield that is unique and protective of you. Parents followed their parents, but that doesn't mean they did a right thing...they deprived the world of some more art, talent and uniqueness. There must be thousand things you don't like but still do it to please either your parents, neighbor or any one passing by, in that case loved ones..go out in sunshine or in moonlight alone and ask yourself, "Do I Want To Hate Myself One Day?"..if your spirit says "NO". Kill your routine and tell yourself that you're that beautiful soul that never loses its charm and attraction, from next moment itself, you'll play with everything, you'll stop being a slave to your surroundings, and suddenly in that following sleep of yours that web, which originated out of nowhere will melt down...will surrender.

Do one exercise today, a ritual that I created on my own..you might like to apply some changes to it, do as your heart says. So here it is, turn the lights off of your room, sit down on a chair and place a big white candle in front of you on an altar, light it. Concentrate on the flame, observe it closely..the blue, the red, the orange and the yellow. Keep looking for few minutes, and then think of just someONE you really care for, someONE not in your family, some stranger may be whom you want to meet again..someone far yet closer than all other. Keep concentrating on the flame..Look for a eye like shape or keep wandering but don't let your gaze go. You just have to look till you know why you're doing it. After you know, you've understood too. Share with me.  

Its time everyone gets home!!

I watched for two complete hours outside the window of the bus I was travelling by, nothing strange did I see. It was the same expression that I saw on each face that evening - panic! There was hurry in every step to get back home safe, before the sun sets in..nor was I in some other mood..but all this humanity amused me for a while. I read many life related articles, they can not write better than I can all they have is a better opportunity than me, while i was making this as note in my mind reading an article in an English daily, i found my bus in middle of a road jam. It almost took us one hour to escape the slow movement, and that did increase the tension factor in my mind too not because I was afraid of the dark but because someone at home doesn't know that I was safe enough. The day was spectacular, I spent it my way but now its time to get back to my nest, I thought to myself like everybody.
All day the birds fly, and at the end of the light, they turn down from the sky..because in night they get shy..for the prey are often sly.  

The day I played stone paper and scissors

I never thought life would be this
Tensed and pretentious
How long do I have to walk
on this sad old grey road
where sometimes happy memories
touch and go
leaving a moment of joy
as a curve on my lips.

When I look back
Journey wasn't too bad
It is just this ugly path
stones everywhere,
All  I've is some inked paper to wrap.

From my past, I recollect
some fine pearls
lying since forever on the side of my reign.
And may be its my sheer luck
that I remembered the day
when I learnt this game
a child to child's play
and also, never did I thought
I'd again have my fate to blame.

.

In-mid-end

I’ve seen you hideous                                                                                  

Even in my thoughts                                                                                    

You cross the bridge                                                                                    

with the trembling gaps                                                                                  

and find yet another                                                                                    

piece of misery                                                                                            

You do not move further                                                                              

but didn’t opt to turn your back                                                                      

Bravery,                                                                                                    

and the pain flourish                                                                                    

Hard                                                                                                          

It has always been                                                                                      

pushing without a reason                                                                              

your own tolerance at stretch                                                                

meeting the ghosts                                                                              

yelling in numbness                                                                                

upon the rock hard bed found                                                                      

you try to look aback                                                                                  

at the other end of the bridge                                                                      

yet you held some hope                                                                                

And here fate tightens the rope  

            

Abyss more attractive these days

Does it matter? I've been thinking this, all along. Humph, it all matters at once. Every day I confront different being in me, apart from what I believe I am. What kind of hell this place is, like paradise? Perfect on the surface and noisy inside. You can see it but inseparable. In years, I've learnt to be a victim in every situation, afraid and always lagging behind, never been a fearless one to conquer. But then its what i saw around me happening, never taking the control of the situation, running like a victim, a frightened mice. Aaaarrggghhhh!!    

Patches

Once I wrote about a trance state that came naturally to me, I did not taste it intentionally. Unknown places are calling in, that's not strange to someone like me. And I do not hesitate to embrace my unknown destiny. They say that everything has a reason, they say with every shit happening around you, destiny takes shape...the shape of identical you, the curves and the flats, tight and loose. I'm unaware of what would be the mystery of the pot, hence I just do things on my impulse..confusion indeed treads in and I seek advice, but then we shall not be too timid or too open. Just keep walking, take things head-on.
I, consider myself as a writer, not as good though. I write with my limited words, and with the consent of my brain  I might restrict very personal experience within only my reach. Paulo Coelho says "Writing is like dancing naked in a street" and he says right. So if I put minimum clothes on, I am not writing for myself, it becomes a mockery of my reason to write. Writing is such a relief, letting yourself flow with your thoughts and coming back to senses to see that world doesn't care for you but how do you please it, is a realization that writing isn't a hobby nor a profession, its a meditation to those who know what words can do. I think I know now that placing words after each digital blank space is easier than placing them in my mind, voids are inconsistent and speaking of my temperament.