barefoot

youtu.be/ch8pwy-V1E8

The powerful play goes on, and we can but contribute a verse. Going to be away for a while:-)

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  • barefoot 21h

    It was half past
    three when we
    decided to vent our
    feelings over a video call,
    Half the day had passed already
    between the same walls
    and mind and chaos,
    and time had spilt through my
    veins like sand that I willingly
    let go of
    because the purpose of
    building a castle with it seemed
    pointless without you beside me
    to watch it get washed away by
    the ocean called life,

    You were wearing the
    shirt we had purchased on the day
    we had roamed around the city
    with just a book of poetry, two cups
    of cold coffee and loads of anecdotes and
    silences and moments of
    unexpected togetherness.

    I wished without saying
    that I could
    smooth
    gently that unruly crease on your shirt collar, while
    you spoke about the millionth online
    meeting you had just gotten out of,
    And you told me that you wished you could
    hold my hand while I told you about
    the way the sky reminded me of our love.

    I could see that you hadn't made your bed,
    and when I asked you about lunch, you said you didn't remember much about it.
    It
    hurt me then most of all
    that I couldn't make you a cup of tea and
    make your bed and read you a line from gitanjali before asking you to come take a walk with me while we let the day fall away from our hearts.

    It hurt me that distance now stood staring at
    our desire for oneness with so much alacrity and
    we had nothing to fill it with but our hope.

    But at the end of the call,
    before asking me to stay safe and
    ending our brief rendezvous with a formal
    see you later, you told
    me that the next time you hold me against you,
    you would remember to hold me
    a minute longer , and you would never again
    take the moments we
    share together for
    granted for now you see that without it
    everything, everything
    seems bleak,
    and I sighed and simply asked
    you to
    smoothen that crease on your collar
    before
    you attend that meeting with your colleague
    you had told me about and
    you smiled widely
    And with that smile
    You held my heart
    instead of
    my hand and unknowingly,
    even with the distance and uncertainty lurking over us still , it all suddenly seemed alright for that single moment and I found myself letting
    hope
    dissolve the distance.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 1w

    Let us take the
    Long road home today.
    Let us lower down the
    window a little lower than usual
    And let the wind dishevel everything

    but our hearts.
    And maybe we could then play that
    song that reminded you of
    the time you held music in your
    blood like oxygen . And
    When the time comes for us to
    disrupt the
    awkward silence with our small talk,
    Let us bravely
    let the awkwardness rip the mask
    Out of our minds. And let us then
    wait for our love alone to replace the silence.
    And when you ask me if I remember when
    the world had stood still for
    A long time holding its breath,
    And when you tell me that it felt a lot like
    The world was hesitant to
    come back alive, let us remember to hold
    our hands like it
    Is all that matters
    and let us be grateful that
    It did come back alive, the world, in fact
    more alive than before, as
    though it had dusted off layers of ignorance for the transient beauty of life, and now it stood
    blazing with so much passion
    and vigour and hope, that we
    now didnt need to be reminded any more
    That
    To just breathe
    is sometimes all it takes to

    Belong.

    And when we reach home late,
    let us take a moment to
    tell the world
    That she is beautiful.
    Maybe we didn't see it before,
    When we had rushed towards our destinations,
    Always taking the short route but now
    That we had stood still long enough
    and waited, for hope to make its way back home.
    We know now
    that she, the world is
    Worth saving
    And taking the time to get to know
    her must be
    our only
    real purpose.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 6w

    the sun hadn't
    set yet when you
    looked towards me
    with that everyday glance
    Of yours
    holding a dried twig in your
    left hand
    To tell me that the world
    didn't seem to excite you anymore.
    I didn't look at you because
    You had more to say and looking at
    You would make us both pause at the
    absurdity of our untold grief tumbling out
    Like uncalled guests in the moment.
    But there is this urge
    within me to live, you see. You went on.
    I don't know where its roots lay
    but during those rare moments
    When I declare that numbness is what I am
    destined for , I see my old father pick
    up the weeds in our garden like
    It his children he is tending to or I see
    my mother run her hands gently through the
    Fur of the cat that follows her around
    Or I see how life fits into
    Each other like it makes no sense alone
    because it never was meant to be a lone creation
    Because togetherness was its only purpose
    And,
    And I see how it is all chaotically entangled
    like it is an endless story
    With a verse we each contribute ,
    A verse that really holds no meaning as such
    Unless it becomes a part of the whole story.

    I looked at you as the ray of the setting sun
    Illumined your face that was lit with love,
    And

    I couldn't comprehend how you always
    started with the absurdity of the world and ended it
    with the meaning of community. Like your
    Heart held a cosmic ache to be held . By everything.
    I looked at you with awe
    because in this moment my life had just one
    Meaning and that was to simply sit next to you and listen to you talk about life with its black and white shade
    merged into a seamless gray love.

    And while the sun set and we
    managed to speak our way into peace,
    I knew that the sun
    sets every day like it
    Needs to surrender to darkness to
    Find its way again but the light in our hearts,
    That,

    That will stay alight
    Until we see how
    Life is
    Here. Amidst and in and because
    Of us. And in oneness lies its
    Profound
    Beauty.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 6w

    //" It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society"- Jiddu Krishnamurthy //

    So when the day
    is done and you
    have survived
    through the hours :
    Half mindful ,
    Half unwilling,
    And you are
    Lying down in your not so
    freshly made cot
    In your dimly lit room
    Staring at the ceiling occasionally
    And occasionally filling
    Up the leftover of the day scrolling
    Mindlessly through the entertainment
    Your smart phone offers you,
    Trying to desperately
    gobble it up like it
    is what sustains your heart,
    What really does it mean when
    you reply with a fine followed by
    A smiley when your friend
    Unwittingly asks you,
    How are you faring?
    Does it mean you have settled
    for the plainness
    Since
    you have
    accepted it as a fact that
    Life, yes life has to be this.
    This script that repeats itself to death.
    Maybe you have taken
    survival for life. Maybe that is
    Where the world has pushed us
    To now. But in
    The rare moments when
    you are desperately trying to
    Make up for time spent
    fighting a war in the light of day
    With the peaceful numbness of the digital screen,
    And you happen to come across
    Your heart telling you that ,
    I am tired, and this is just so wrong,
    Please
    Don't numb it with self-love or positivety,
    Listen to it, for it may be telling you
    The truth, that this cannot be it, and
    whether reluctantly or not,
    ask yourself
    If being alive is just this,
    Or if it is a lane you have forgotten to
    take because the whole world
    was walking on a different lane and
    asked you
    To follow
    simply because it seemed rational.
    And you followed because it seemed
    Less lonely
    And sane .

    And finally ask your crowded mind, if rebellion is the cost you
    Have to pay for
    Being alive,
    Why be afraid, when life is

    Price less ?

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 6w

    A recipe for preserving happiness

    1.a vast field of love that is free
    2.a brook of acceptance that life changes.
    3.a hill of realisation that we can be broken.
    4.a sky of empathy that has no trade value
    5.a blanket of curiousity for our own pulsing desire
    6.a heart of gratitude that does not carry remorse.
    Mix the field of love with the brook of acceptance while trying to sift through the noise in the mind. Gently place the hill of realisation in the field despite the constant nagging of the world that asks you to believe only in perfection. While letting the hill settle into the field, stir the sky of empathy into the mixture with gentle understanding that we are all beneath the same blue unknown reality. While covering the delicious mixture with the blanket of curiousity remember to tell your self that there is still a lot of life left inside your heart, to be alive for despite every circumstance that makes you believe that it might be the end. And in the end , never forget to sprinkle the heart of gratitude for without it everything seems without a purpose really. Now place the field in the light of your awareness and let it sink in. When it sinks deep inside the cracks of your hurting wounds, let out of a sigh of relief and thank yourself for having the kindness to feed your own aching soul. And When your soul is fed, remember to serve your love and kindness to the hungry world too. You will realise that doing this heals your heart faster. Because in the end, we are all just aching to be fulfilled.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee
    img src: pinterest

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 7w

    My grandfather was
    sixty years old when he
    told me that he had never
    once told
    grandma
    that she
    is the apple of his eye.
    Why declare
    love when it
    Can be felt
    he said.
    I wonder
    What would grandpa
    say now when
    so much is declared
    but
    very,
    very little felt?
    He would probably ask
    me to look more deeply.
    But how would I
    tell him that the world prefers
    blindness when it comes to truth
    And love (both being
    Synonymous)?
    So if grandpa tells me to look
    deeper I would

    Tell him that I don't know grandpa.
    I don't know
    how to look anymore.

    Grandpa I know will then ask me to
    have faith in the universe, the same
    Universe
    that lost its sanity in the big bang
    just to
    Know what a
    pulsing heart eager for love would feel
    Like. And then
    I would reluctantly say,
    Grandpa but what if having
    Faith seems
    naive to me in a world that is
    moving towards
    A reality where love too could be
    automated?
    Grandpa would
    then sigh at my foolishness.
    And my near sightedness .
    And tell me
    that even today

    even after he
    has left the earth
    grandma is the apple of his eye,
    because even
    Death failed to
    Take his love away from
    her even when his heart stopped beating.
    And I would
    Know he is saying the truth,
    For even today
    within grandma's tear
    I feel his smile.
    And his undeclared alive naive child
    like love,
    And so
    just for the sake of that timeless
    love
    I will feel, look and even have
    faith even if
    It would be really
    foolish
    to do so .
    For
    why not
    have faith in that
    which remains unmarred
    By death even?
    Love
    I mean.

    #musing #temp

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 7w

    Dear stranger,

    I am not going to assume who you are and what you are feeling within yourself in this moment.
    I don't really know if it is joy that life has offered you today or if it is grief that is making you question the purpose of life today. I don't know what your relationship with life today is and I don't find it right really to intrude. I don't know anything about you and that is why writing this to you feels like a beautiful undertaking because our relationship is not yet marred by a heavy dose of expectation or nostalgia.

    I am guessing that maybe you want me to tell you that it is all going to be fine? This our lives I mean.

    I don't want to.
    I really don't because you would have heard this too many times and now I just want to tell you the
    not so poetic reality of life just as I experience it every day in between the rare moments of glory.
    Maybe then you can know that we, you and me are not so dissimilar in our extremely Ordinary lives which connects each of us in the most extraordinary way possible.

    You see I walked my grandfather to the clinic the other day. While walking to the clinic to get his old heart checked I saw a girl holding onto the strong shoulder of her grandfather while alighting her school bus and I held onto my grandpa's hand a little tighter wanting his heart to live on for ever you see . For my sake. For the sake of my relationship with him. For love. I need his heart to keep beating. And grandpa just smiled in his ordinary way and I had to make do with this small mundane gesture.

    Today I received a call from my best friend that she will be shifting to the other side of the world for her higher education. Now how am I to handle this?
    The one with whom I had been my most goofy vulnerable self had decided to freeze that version of me within long distance calls. And in the most ordinary way she said that we will learn to make the distance shorter through the digital world . And I had to make do with this assurance.

    All I am trying to say is that life is not that poetic.It really isn't. It is bare, it is vulnerable , it is open to errors, it is just what it is. And yet when you come to think of it, it is life too that gave me a grandpa with such a vastly kind heart even if it has grown old now, it is life which gave me a friend I am willing to time travel for.
    So I guess in the end , life is
    ordinary but that is exactly what makes it
    so beautiful.
    That something that is so beyond our human understanding
    Can be so ordinary in its essence?
    I just don't want to tell you that life is going to be fine you know? I want you to know that
    Life is going to be everything.
    Fine, not so fine, ordinary, extraordinary.
    And that's why you are so lucky to be
    Living it. Because you get to experience
    Life in her entirety.

    And It is my only wish that you come to have such a deep relationship with life that you embrace her in all her shades
    and even love her more for it.
    Through it all.
    The ordinary
    And the extraordinary.

    with love,
    barefoot.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #stranger

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 7w

    Beauty ? Beauty that is more than skin deep?
    Formless and free and wild , you mean?
    The one that cannot be explained and analysed and
    Put on the operating table of the mind to be dissected of its components to finally arrive at some sort of enlightening conclusion?
    The one that takes you by its claws and tears away the illusions of size and shape and weight?
    The one you find waiting in the eyes of a mother who is waiting for her four year old daughter who had dressed up awkwardly as a princess in the morning to know if she could find her kingdom amidst the craziness of the world just because her mother told her that she could?
    Or do you mean the one the warrior holds at the place where his armour ends and his true courage begins, the one that made him wear the armour in the first place ?
    Or or are you shyly refering to the one that hides in the space between lovers who haven't yet found the words or phrases to give form to the enormous formless emotion overwhelming their being , connecting them into some sort of seperate universe that is complete by itself?
    Or are you referring to the one that lies coyly in the heart of the slave who sits day after day against his window, looking at the unforgiving sky to offer him a release from the prison of his own mind , and yet harbors enough hope to know that it is possible. The freedom he seeks. And is willing to pray for it against all hope? Oh oh
    Or are you slyly refering to the one you hold within the cells of your own body. The one that heals and repairs and breathes and holds and silently keeps you alive while you are busy looking for your joy in a place that is not already within you?
    Or are you trying to describe the one that stands proudly in the slouching shoulders of the retired man who silently built a fortress of safety and comfort for his loved ones and now sits without ostentation not claiming anything but joyous to see the sweat he transformed to survival now being metamorphosed into greatness by his children?
    Or are you pointing out to the stars that find it in themselves to shine without a complaint that their light has to travel such vast vast distances for no grand purpose but for the simple need of the creator to add a little light to our dark night skies?
    Or are you poetically refering to the nests huddled up amongst the trees , nests built by tiny inconsequential birds for their fledglings , knowing without any kind of theories and principles and laws that it is their duty to keep the beings capable of flying alive ,in this universe no matter what?
    Or darling , are you referring to this space right here ,
    This space between me and you in which exists the possibility of us becoming one , where our skins will not be the boundary any more because our hearts have found resonance through beating to the same tune?

    Or are you referring to everything?

    The ecstacy, the pain .
    The burden , the lightness.
    The string , the fabric,
    The breath , the grave
    The love , the silence,
    The story , the reader,
    The sun , the moon,
    The eyes , the perception
    The bond , the loss.
    The now , the forever.
    The you , the world.
    Because somehow you have come to see that
    Beauty cannot be one thing and not the other
    Because everything somehow is so intricately connected into one single verse called the uni-verse where in
    Everything just coalesces to something
    Incomprehensibly
    beautiful the Greek philosophers came to refer to as the Kalon?

    @writersnetwork,@mirakee
    #beauty
    //A repost from before since I guess my definition of beauty is still an inclusive one so I thought I should just remind myself that beauty remains unaltered by posting this again//

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 8w

    //"look we are not unspectacular things. We've come this far, survived this much. What would happen if we decided to survive more?"- Ada Limon //

    When you
    ask someone to
    not be anxious,

    not to be so wounded
    What do you think
    really goes on in their heart?
    I mean ,
    Is their heart or mind
    free enough
    to really hear you?
    If it isn't
    then who are we addressing
    Really?
    A part of them self
    That even they are searching?
    If it is free
    then how do you
    think their anxious heart
    can go about
    putting your instruction
    To practice?
    I mean
    If they already knew how
    To ease their hearts
    would they not have already
    done that kindness to
    themselves?
    How then can we
    be there for ourselves
    Or for those who are
    Struck in the darkest
    Corners of our minds?

    Why aren't we capable
    Of a love that heals?
    Why
    despite all our knowledge
    Of the world are we
    So oblivious of our own hearts?
    Is it because we never cared
    Enough to know or
    Is it because the world
    Always taught us to see
    Only that which was visible?
    When we
    don't know where the
    Wound is within another
    Or within ourselves
    How do we cure it then?
    By looking? By caring enough?
    By seeing that
    Collectively we all are in the dark
    About our
    Own fragile lives?
    I think maybe it begins with
    a very very
    Small ounce of kindness.
    And realisation.
    That we don't know .
    We really dont.
    And
    It is our duty
    To pay as much attention
    And kindness and
    Value
    To
    Our inner selves
    As we
    Do to our outer
    Lives.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 8w

    When we
    were lying
    next to each
    Other on the
    half white rug that
    we had brought
    on our first anniversary
    After deciding that
    it would remind us
    Of our shared obsession
    For clouds
    You told me that
    this is not exactly
    what you
    had expected
    life to be.

    The ceiling fan
    Above me whirred
    Like a tired heart and
    I didn't know what you meant.
    Atleast I didn't want to .
    You paused. For a breath
    Or maybe for my heart to catch on.
    I don't know. And then you said
    I had this idea of a life
    that could keep my heart
    forever alive with
    a passion bukowski writes of
    And a sense of aliveness plath ached for.
    But this, this is just so ,
    I don't know. You said and
    placed your hand over mine
    That was laid
    in the space between us.
    I didn't know
    how really to make sense
    of this simple declaration of
    everyday misery.
    Especially when uttered
    by the person you
    Loved with all your being.
    But the fact was a fact.
    As clear as the rug that
    We were lying on , the one I had
    Washed with rose essence detergent
    because you told me it reminded
    You of the garden of roses you visited
    After falling in love with me.

    So this thing we share, whatever it is,
    it is not always enough isn't it?
    I wondered out loud.
    You hurried anxiously to tell me that
    our love was what kept you grounded still.
    You even blurted out that our love was
    Every thing.

    But I knew, that
    you needed more.

    I knew
    because I needed it too.


    Is
    this need for more aliveness
    inherited
    By all who live?

    Do we feel so constricted
    Because like the
    Universe our purpose
    Is to expand into ourselves?

    So when you told me,
    This is not what you expected life
    To be ,
    I didn't tell you that
    our love should have been enough, because
    My love for you is deep
    enough to let you grow into other
    Versions of your self,
    So instead
    I told
    You to
    take up that pottery class
    You had always
    wanted to join
    and drank a cup of chai
    From the universe shaped cup you
    made and managed to
    add a little
    Chai coloured stain to our
    half white rug and even called it our
    Personal
    rainbow.


    #temp #musing

    @writersnetwork Thank you for this kind gesture ♥️

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    ©barefoot