The silence just never speaks, It makes you feel its existence. It can be anywhere, In the depth of the blue sky, In the moon glade in the Silvery water of the small lake In the cold fragrant wind In the emptiness that is present right now In the struggle of thoughts to come out or not. ~The silent noise is whispering to me in silence, Break the silence, but This silence is so deep, strong and hurting That everything else is fading away In the end what remains is the silence..... ___________ lonethinker
Faraway from the city, Atop the mountain, Sitting on a solid block of rocks Seeing the colourful wildflowers bloom Watching the birds returning home in flocks I see people working on the downhill field and Wonder what the field might yield Wish to go down and trot through the lush domain To find something hidden in the plain I can see the April evening sun Spreading tangerine colour across the horizon Drowning behind the hill I can feel a kind of peace instill.
Kaleidoscopic thoughts Reflects, multiply Distorted Flowing in and out like the clouds of tranquility They swim in the pool inside the mind like languid fish. Among the lost hopes, Among the anxieties and fears Among the erupting emotions Uncertain and lost They are vagabonds Which I try to steer them through this Pushing them to cruise away But they just don't They go away for a while and again returns Like a never ending cycle Probably they love this place, Probably they found a home in here. Whatever it is, I do love their feral ways random and untrained And the serendipity they have in their mundaneness. ______________
One more day of being alone One more step taken to feel happiness I found nothing as Nothing lies there Probably I was being mistaken into Following the step I thought I am getting it, but no It was nothing but another lie. I was left with an utter silence and Laden with constant questions and A plenty of thoughts. The heart feels heavy A feeling, which isn't a new thing I hide it, always, From myself From everyone I ignore it, Because I don't want to feel it Don't know why? I try exhaling out To feel at ease even with the lying burden But I do not succeed, Dwelling on old memories I stay enclosed The one's I never told The one's that stayed silent Just for me It rests there peacefully It feels more heavy, It keeps pressing more and more The heaviness gets added more and more Making me uneasy, breathless While pain pouring out of my heart. A feeling that can't exactly be described more than that For its puzzling perplexity and Inconclusiveness It is there since a long time But I got no name for it, Only I'm aware of.
I kept ignoring the mistakes, I have been committing, Knowing it is not right, Perhaps, I believed, Deep down in my heart I hoped The mistakes to prove me right- It Sounds absurd, Right But yeah, that's what I wish.
What I found was that All my hopes And dreams laying shattered Hidden away from the reality Wearing an invisibility cloak. I was terrified For I caught myself spinning and Weaving a web of altered truths.
I was trying to find the lost, The lost dignity Once abandoned and never dared to Looked back upon. All those forgotten feelings and memories. That lies buried Buried deep inside, My heart Then the heart of my heart Before cremated forever.
Phantasmagorical jigsaw we play to puzzle our thoughts and lapses like an ancient civilization puddled its structure with crept up pitter-patters to be nostalgic and feel a void in our hearts. Trying to save ourselves from dereliction. Sufferings are soft taps of life to burgeon our striving soul. And our heart sometimes play with our mind and we throw ourselves into nihility lead to frictionless casuistry.
Flotsam and jetsam wedges of brawn cusp from being exorable to inexorable we all go through three main stages of our lives (childhood, adulthood and old age). Chortles we spray towards the blossoms of optimism to the last wisdom wreathed words we leave for this world to be written in golden letters. A little memoir of ourselves. Sometimes being jocund and jovial like rain in desert and then the changing in our moods where we feel miserable, tired by whoops of life and a profound pessimism cwtch our veins.
Giving up due to some iffy notions and our throats then become attics of rusty gubbins. We feed on technologies and our stomach burn up with myths and truths. Not able to control the little facts of life and morphing centuries we stuck in betwixt of being who we are ? What we are doing here? Do we deserve this life or not? While finding the answers we forget that the real WE and WHYS resides in the depth of our churned bones and dark cladded soul.
Spring's Fair: When Spring put up a fair, I went as happily as rivers go to the sea I bought:
*Cherry blossoms packaged in an April breeze * Powdered golden pollen wrapped in blue paper skies *Sweet nectar crystallized under the rays of a pink moon *A quilt of new beginnings woven together by blades of newly green grass.
Spring wanted only the remnants of Winter for exchange; I spent my snow coins happily ___________________________________________
Summer's Fair: Summer's Fair was carousel coloured, I bounced along with the happy bobs of a fishing boat in the Ganges and bought:
*Childhood stories wrapped in my ancestral home's banyan leaf *Sun yellow mangoes in baskets of nostalgic joy *A smidgeon of benevolent shade scooped from an old oak *Giggles and old games wrapped in downy muslin
Summer's preferred currency was a little sweat and wads of lazy laughter. __________________________________________ Monsoon's Fair: Monsoon's fair lacked colour and grandeur but it felt like the hugs of a long lost friend, I bought:
*Old letters of love coated in Gulmohar speckled puddle water *Piping hot chai that came with gossip *A bottle of petrichor made from a vial of earth from the Nilgiris *Jasmine born of the first monsoonal rain in a cradle of green leaf
Monsoon only wanted poetry and longing glances cast out of windows in exchange ___________________________________________
Autumn's Fair: Autumn's fair was the shortest but the most colorful, I bought: *Ladles of every colour that was laid out in small spice bins *Pumpkins and apples born of the earth, covered with enough life to keep winter at bay *Some drops of the Harvest moon *A dollop of Nature's syrupy embrace to keep me warm in Winter
Autumn preferred currency that rustled and made music like the leaves it lost. __________________________________________ Winter's Fair: Winter hosted a fair that was cold yet cozy. It took place in a great hall that had the Northern Lights for a roof. I bought: *Resilient snow drop flowers that smiled even in the snow *A few embers of cozy logwood fire *A mug of Hot chocolate and stories *A daisy preserved in resin to remind me that Life hadn't disappeared, it was only taking a short nap under the ice.
Winter wanted warmth in exchange. I gave away some of it, but did not part with it entirely. ___________________________________________
I have imagined attending Fairs hosted by the Seasons and have listed the things I'd buy from them. I love writing about the seasons. And I loooooved writing this.