Ramblings

No rebel is without a cause

Polythene grows on trees

The monkeys do not try to be human now

Wherever was silence there is darkness now

And the sounds of darkness

Boxes are good

Everything should be compact, even our empathy

You are living every moment

Or dying

You were the most living when you were born

Calm is not the answer to everything

Questions are best friends

Answers are the mommy and daddy of best friends

Because they give birth to more questions

Is that what we are?

Questions of our parents?

Heirs to man’s quest of WHY?

Laughter is music to some

And mockery to some

You don’t shed tears

They shed themselves, the uninvited guests

What kind of a host are you?

The laughing host or the crying host?

Life is music

There are low notes, there are high notes

Live anyway, make melody

The sky blackened...

The sky blackened,

The rain fell,

Our bodies slackened:

We were in a spell.

The wind-swept rain sprayed on to us

And the dullest of thoughts were cleansed.

In this coolness of ambience

And the warmth of our friendship

The weariness of ambition was drained

In the sewer of oblivion, and all that settled

On our hearts was the gladness of existence,

The gratitude of this perception invaded by heaven,

Of the gift of consciousness to feel this and feel

Nothing else: no want, no grudge, no property,

No debt, no height, no depth; nothing;

The gift of wanting nothing but this.

The trunk is too large...

The trunk is too large for embraces,

The sea too large for a swim.

Eternity mocks the clock as it races.

Our life too real for our whims.

What is a footprint on a snow clad berg

Many times larger than the largest?

A mark that changes

The face of infinity.

What is life?

A grain on the endless beach,

That mountain-peak beyond our reach.

But the omni does not contempt.

It knows well that a grain in the eye

Is worth all on the beach.

And so he says, 'Oh brother,

I have so much, yet I'm not full; while you complete in yourself.

I'll be less if you left me, but you not less nor more.'

Illusioned

We used to run, just for the fun of it. We would chase each other, run for the hill top. Then, one day, someone drew a line on the hill top and offered something for the fastest runner among us. Material was involved, and what was once friendly sport, now became a competition. We had established occupations so that we could provide each other with a variety of things. Then, one day, a tendency to collect as much money as possible became THE purpose of life. Occupations also became competitions, businesses; careers.

Unmasked

Passing poles, passing faces, past people, his eyes did not move in his sockets. His was an unsettling meditation, his was a calm face. Behind the indifferent countenance, there's a constant tumult as of gusty winds and wavering sea on a palsy ship, toying with its pathetic efforts to hold up. Distraction offers its hand. Who can refuse? He's taken on the ride as gently as would betoken royalty. He's flung out in the world of reality as the foul bones out the kitchen which invite only the drooling dogs.

If

If you can make loneliness your company

And solitude your chum,

If you can create your own joy

When you are provided none,

If you can pick good times and bad

And make a cocktail, and tasting it say

It’s the best you ever had,

Yours is the world in spirit and in heart,

And be it known: Yours is a soul

Without an end or a start.