You look like a terrorist to me!

I perceive you as a person cloaked in black, blackness that covers your face and your mouth that somehow gives out unpleasantness whenever you bark your voice. A dwarfy frame weighed down with high powered spectacles and white teeth coupled together, which whenever you open your mouth to yap shows off like the fake cover to the gleam inside you.

You sound like the pepper spray when it’s emptied on the oppressor’s face.

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Are you a mason? Do you build walls?

I finally felt I had lost and everyone was winning; my gleeful philosophy seemed to perish when every last hope was turning to shackles. The wonder woman almost lost her power and grace. It spelled The End of the heroic tale of the Beauty without her Beast. I smelled hopelessness at every corner of the city; black fumes glorified the skies with their unceasing melody. The structures built all along were turning to dust; grass on the other side looked green. All I wanted was to be shunned into a capsule and transported to a new world. The done couldn’t be changed; all I wished for was to live for the love that hadn’t revealed itself. It seemed simple, the road that led me here; I didn’t wish for a fairy tale, but I never settled for the joyful and simplistic. The beating heart spilled in agony and distress. It left me speechless and swollen with words that were unspoken.

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Black Mamba

I was fast asleep when all of a sudden my eyes opened. I could hear my Dadi’s footsteps. She had just got up. It seemed darker than usual. I had overslept, I thought. It was almost evening. I woke up immediately when Dadi said there was a storm going on outside and I didn’t have a clue about it. I went straight to the front door, went out and started removing the mats which were put up for shade.  The wind was violently blowing against me. Somehow I got them tied up and came in shutting the door with all my strength. Then I decided to make tea. The lights were out. In the kitchen, I lit a candle and put up some water to boil on the stove. It was very quiet inside the house. All windows and doors were closed. I could only hear the wind whistling, through the small space of the exhaust,  making a very creepy sound like in horror movies. I was still making tea. Everything was quiet and dark. Simba was sitting in the center room, staring into the kitchen, waiting to get something to eat. His peaceful look gave me comfort every time I looked at him.It had started thundering really bad. And suddenly the candle went off.

Curious to read more?

THE ART OF LONELINESS

Loneliness is depressing.  The dictionary defines the word as isolation. Imagine yourself living in a large bungalow, which is completely empty. You can live for a day, a week, maybe a month if you have that much will power. In the beginning it will seem peaceful, and you would wish if you could live like this for the rest of your life. That’s your inner self gratifying. So your ego makes you feel happy by letting you enjoy that emptiness. Then what? After sometime the inner self feels insecure. There is no fuel to keep the fire going inside of you. So it forces the ego to find ways to ignite that fire again. That’s when you feel lonely. You have exhausted your resources to live by staying alone. In search of that fire we become restless and move out of that place. Live somewhere else, soon the fuel is exhausted and again we start searching. And it keeps going on till we die. Can this be ended? Does loneliness have an answer? Different people have different answers to this. A guy going for a job from 7 to 5 in a day finds his fuel by staying on in his office till late and coming home when its time to sleep.  For a woman who takes care of her kids and her husband, sends them off to school and office finds her fuel in cooking for them when they’ll be back. What if the guy didn’t have that job and the lady didn’t have her husband and kids? There would be no fuel to ignite that fire in them. Is it possible to live without igniting that fire in you? No, it isn’t. Because we are human beings. We need something to depend on, something to laugh at and something to cry for. Otherwise we wouldn’t be called human beings.

Is there an ideal fuel that will ignite the fire within us? No, there isn’t. Our mind needs something new constantly to build on. There are people in this world who are satisfied with what they have. Like a cook, who knows to cook a few dishes, goes on cooking the same dishes over and over again. And doesn’t get tired of doing that. He accepts the fact that that is his world and he has to live in that. It works for him, so no problem. But for those who can’t do that its a tough road ahead. You need to keep finding things to satisfy yourself. Its not about finding those things that will ignite the fire. But its about learning to keep the fire going even when there is no fuel to ignite it. That is difficult. I myself fail many times but one thing is for sure its not impossible. Even sitting in a room all alone can light it up by just wanting that to happen. It’s simple as that. Our mind is like a lion. You can tame it if you train it. It will do as you say. You want to be happy? Tell your mind what you want and it will do that. It takes practice.

Our mind has a mind of its own. Like the lion, it will try to test its boundaries again and again. If you give in, it knows it can over power you. If you say no, it will know its limit and learn to stay within it. Like I said nothing is impossible. Our brain has the capacity to control us and we have the capacity to control it. You need to choose -either your mind controls you or you control it. Then it will follow your instructions like the lion would and it will not kill you.

Papa Bear

In greatness and in might came a power so great that lead to a collision so immense as the space. Brought to life, it, a huge chunk from the vacuum within. Blazing like the breath of a dragon, fierce like the gazing sun, piled like the highest mountain, it overshadowed the fright of the might. A fountain of heating lava, can never rest in peace, can never form the beautiful rocks it could ever see.  Cracked open the nutshell as soonly it dried out. Bringing out a flower from the pore that sprouted the new design.It simply smiled and waters poured out from every insight that flushed the rustic blend of overflowing lava and its heat inside. The skin was sore of the bear that roared because the light shined so brightly as it soared. Its might brought out a cascade of roses that seemed blemished and sore. As the moon refreshed the light it dawned, so did the bear sing a new song. The blemishes turned to glows and it skin sheltered its broken soul. With a new day came a new might. And again the bear smiled, flushed the waters as it did before, all went back to sore sore sore.

Sleek as a candle stick but strong as a pounding heart, this new might, brought a touching start. Everything turned from sore to roar, the bear turned all the rust to dusty ground and a new sprout had a burst, sank in the waters and sucked it all up. Out grew a tree that gave fruits the bear hadn’t seen. He wanted to smile again but feared the next that would come. Content filled his heart, never he thought he would last. The sleek joined in to celebrate this new start. Bloomed like the fish diving out of the waters, touched the sky and dived in again. There was beauty and there was storm. All it did was bring more to astound. The bear grew strong with the night and days that showed the dazzling stars. Sleek went into slumber and never did awake but the bear never smiled and brought himself to be might of a branded state.

Understand them!

I desperately needed to understand Jennifer’s grief. There appeared to be no end to her crying. The way she secluded herself in her room deeply concerned me.

“How can I reach her?” I thought. “Tom passed away months ago, yet Jennifer seems the hardest to console.”

Knocking on Jennifer’s door, I prayed that I might be able to unlock some secret hidden deep within her. Jennifer’s soft, timid voice responded,” What  do you want, Mom?”

“Please let me come in. We need to talk. I think it will help of we share some feelings with each other.”………..Clearing my throat, I tried to be brave. “Jennifer, I understand that you miss Daddy a lot. I want to help you with your heart but I don’t know how. Please help me understand.”…………..Finally Jennifer looked up. “Mommy, God took the wrong parent” Jennifer sobbed.

Taken from  “Lord, How Can I Help Them” one of the stories,from the book God’s Vitamin “C” for the Hurting Spirit by Kathy Collard Miller and D.Larry Miller.

Wasn’t she trying enough to keep her family together after her husband’s death? Still her daughter thought that God had taken the wrong parent !

Parents often say “Aren’t we doing enough for you already?” While the child says,” Yeah right! Sure you do!”

It is right when parents say that they are doing so much for their kids, but the question is ,is that what the child needs from them?

Parents feel proud  that they were always there for their children, they did everything THEY thought the child needed. Did you ask your child what he or she needed? She wanted you to hug her everyday so she felt she was loved and cared for. She wanted you to understand her life and her friends rather then just protecting her all the time. He wanted to talk to his father about his life instead of him being all macho and insensitive.

Parents want to protect their children, from the unknown world because they are young, to keep them from harm. In that mindfulness of protection, they forget that children have a mind of their own too. They want to be talked to, they want to know whats going on. And they sure understand if you talk and explain things to them. Protection is needed but more than anything what children need is that their parents understand them.

Parents are also human beings, they make mistakes. They don’t always realize what’s best for their child. They TRY to do things which may seem good for the child. From the parents’ point of view it may be the right thing to do. But what comes next is you keep yourself in your child’s shoe and try to understand what that kid is actually going through.

Know what they need not just what they want. We tend to focus on their wants and forget the “need” part. Talk to them instead of just smiling at them when you come back from office. Create rapport with them so they’ll  come to you and talk instead of ordering them and asking them harshly what they did the whole day. That’s when you won’t have to tell them “I’VE DONE SO MUCH FOR YOU”.

Instead they’ll run to you and say “THANK YOU”, out of the blue for no reason. And that’ll be an achievement for your lifetime.

I would like to sum up with this statement:

Invest in making the roots strong by putting sufficient manure and water, instead of cleaning the leaves outwardly and hiding the plant during the storm. Because if the roots are strong, the plant will withstand the storm anyway. 

Blame yourself!

Blame the one that’s inside you
Not the man you love
Or the mother who cares for you.
The fault is in you
Not in the eye of the archer
Not in the tips of the thorny  branches.
It’s where you kept your foot
Not the ground which took the print.
It’s your mind that made the thought
Not the face that smiled back at you.
It’s the hand  that you held,
Not the hand that gripped yours.

It’s your hand that creates,
Not the brush that paints.
It’s your mouth that speaks,
Not the ear that hears.
It’s always you
And you alone
Because the sun shows up everyday
But it’s the earth that rotates to see it’s face.
It’s your feet that makes you stand,
Not the one who calls out your name.
It’s you who breaths in hatred
Not the air that went through your nostrils.
It’ll always be you
And you alone
To make the way
Not the men beside you.
It’s all inside you.

The Writer’s guide

I have come to a point where I feel I need to write a book. I know it’s the hardest thing to do like any other profession or job. But that’s what I’m born to do; to write. Reading various articles on writing, how to write a book? how to begin? what all will I have to go through to?, to come up with a master piece worth selling and being read by the world is a daunting experience but its worth it.

Writing is an experience of something outside this world of touch and feel. It’s what I go through when I write a piece of art, present it to myself as an end product which eventually comes back to me in the form of critical views of my readers. I would compare this experience of writing to being stoned or tipsy. You really don’t hear or feel what’s going on around . It’s just you and your pen or keyboard (for me) and the numbness all through out your body, concentrating on solely one thing that’s writing. The words pour out of you like the water from a tap and you continuously write. Then there comes a time when your phone rings or someone calls out your name, and you’re vanished from the sleigh in the mid air with Santa, back on your feet looking at reality.

This is when you write short pieces. When you aim on writing lengthy ones it’s not all that smooth road. The road gets real bumpy with you’re digging for ideas to continue your writing and suddenly you reach a blank wall. That’s frustrating! This is when your creation is telling you “Take a break”. Either you’ve taken the wrong turn or you’ve missed out on something very essential. So you take a break, a long break, days to be exact. In the mean time, procrastination creeps in. Not that you’ve forgotten about the writing, it’s somewhere in the back of your mind which keeps popping up every now and then but then you tend to flush it out and carry on with your procrastination. That’s when I have to take things into my hands and get to my laptop and start from scratch, editing every line. When I reach the end? I’m done for the day. Back to procrastination! So, the moral being it’s not an easy task to write long pieces like a book, it takes a lot of time, energy, patience. After writing you turn out to be a different person all together.

Virtual reality

I walk, I run into this world of new and unknown faces, young and old, graceful and loving, still and moving. I walk through the galaxy of unending faces and places.  I wait, when will I  next see your face again. When I’ll see your face, face to face. All there is, is virtual reality. The thought of you has become reality. I lean on to see you walk towards me, I sit by my window to see you walk out of your front door. There you are my happy thought which will last till I make it reality or kill it. The dilemma of letting you be real or kill you or live on in this virtual reality. Is there a way out? Is there a way I can turn this into reality, where I can touch you and feel you. Will this never end? Is this forever to last? How long do you think I can hang on to you, virtual reality? This seems eternal, with no beginning and no end. I woke up one morning and found myself in the center of your world. Now its become mine. It flows through my veins, through my heart every second of being mortal. You’ll be part of me even when I fly high in the sky free as a bird. I know you will not be gone sooner, you will last my whole life. Your world is beautiful and never turns me off, it blows life into me, it carries me with the wind, into the ocean, above the waves and into the sky. You’ll never forgot me. Neither will I. I wonder if I left your world, would I still live in beauty and love? Will I ever forget your face if I wanted to? This seems impossible at this point. You are my virtual reality. You’ll always be my happy thought? Or will I ever see you? I feel you fading away slowly and gradually. Is this going to end soon? I feel the absence, and I don’t feel pain. I feel happiness and I feel you. I don’t know if this is it. I fear nothing anymore, I have this strength inside of me. Your world has something to do with it. With strength, you are my weakness sometimes, you can break me just by snapping your finger. But somehow you give me strength which can’t break me so easily. That part is me. Still I think till when will this last? This remains my pursuit, to know what happens to you and what happens to me. I silently wait, living in your happy thought, in your world which has become mine too. Virtual reality!