Words

You don’t have to be drunk to ponder on their shallowness. You don’t need clarity to see through the deeper meanings assigned to mere letters. You call a far off stony globe giving out light without it intending to a star. And you gaze at them, seek some destiny supposedly written on them and kid yourself into believing in their mystery. A midnight sky is eulogized in a poem with ink and inkiness and twinkling and dimming suns. Oh, they are but suns, to some other beings, which again we put a name to. They make the mundane awe-inspiring and banish some wonders to platitude. Humans, all, suffer from a congenital case of compulsive-impulsive obsession- that to express. That which they think and know and understand and that which they can’t. And then they want to pass it on- as their works. Works of art- an art mastered over ages.

They are lies. Every uttered word is a lie, some beautiful, some ugly. No, only those which are true are ugly. But they are necessary. Like truth and lies. Truth is twisted to deceive, and to cause- harm or happiness. Every time you say something, you steal something from life, of this existence, of being and of a expanding universe.. But that’s not a crime we feel deserves to be punished. If you didn’t steal bits of these lives and claimed ownership with words, they would just lie there, unexplored and then, probable decay greets them. From letting it be, you restrict it with words. Grab an empty space and call it null, void and other words. Fill each vacancy with matter, and if not that, call that anti-matter.

What is this need to give everything a definition, a name, a meaning, a place in the lexicon? Where do we get this urge to waste time thinking about daffodils and witches and then weaving into them a story, a fact and a letter of intent? But then, where would we be if not for them? Aren’t we driven, in a way, by this need to objectify and glorify, unfortunately- a flower, the sky, a life and the universe? Don’t we need confirmations for our beliefs and also our doubts?

Hours are spent on trying to extract inspiration from an insipid clod of clay. Silence is talked about and called golden. And those same words demote speech to silvern. You shatter silences with music. You mix this music with them, them words and there is a song. And then you find peace and calm with it. It’s a vicious unending circle-a game in which words and silence connive and conspire, to play with you.

You ask and you answer. And then you question it and doubt it and come up with more answers. Then you realize it all fades to nothingness, meaninglessness. But you strive on. What is the point of this futility? But then you’d counter saying- does everything have to have a point? Does everything have to have a purpose- high or low, a reason to be?

Can’t those flowers just look beautiful and be left alone without having a book written on them? Can’t we just stare and wonder and be lazy enough to leave it at that? I don’t blame only words now. I’d go further to claim that it is not only the said and unsaid, it’s also those that are done and not done. Can’t we just be amazed at birds flying and soaring high and envy them, but not be too ambitious to imitate them? Can’t that rocky mass be left alone to its own devices rather than be chiseled, carved and molded into what we desire it to be? But then observations compel conclusions, and actions. Or do they?

Words and actions- what came first? It comes nowhere close to the chicken or the egg conundrum. But still, aren’t actions mere manifestation of words? And words a depiction of them? It’s a cycle. Or a circle, if you please. You observe, pry and feel and think and work on those actions. The mechanism is triggered. You say some, you keep some to yourself, you put some into motion and then rest- they say is history. History is a big mistake and we like creating history- colliding and crashing with a solid wind that leaves you breathless and then chronicling that experience with pain or amusement, whichever you felt more or whichever is more in vogue.

Can’t deny that all these do seem beautiful and provide some solace, but. Ramblings.. oh the beauty and misery of them words…I’ve gone now and defied the whole purpose of this – this act- by using too many words. I should have just stuck to gazing at those things in the blue-black sky and enjoying my smoke, and talking to myself.

Of Gods, Temples and Faith..

I am a theist ( Thats apparently the word. But it's more like the opposite of an atheist and I don't think I am the opposite of an atheist). Anyways, I believe in God. In quite a lot of them. They are fascinating. And also helpful and comforting, when there be need.
We have the Gods and Super Gods. The Super Gods are the most popular ones. Especially here in India.
Then there are temples- the more famous ones, which enshrine Super Gods and are all-powerful. One trip and all your wishes come true. We prioritize our wishes. The most important and needed ones are reserved for the Super Gods.

Oh, the pointlessness of it all, at times.. I go to the temple and see so many people, immersed in their prayers, asking God to provide cure and bounty. The rich and poor, the literate and the illiterate, they all seek panaceas. Its reassuring and disturbing at the same time. So many of us, placing the responsibility of our lives on One Super Being and leaving it all, almost. Why do we seek what is within us outside? Does the very presence of it outside us make it more powerful for us? We don’t have faith in our own selves but a God.

And why the need for temples? We have our own Gods at our places and do our daily worship? But does that extra effort put in to go and worship shows more devotion on our side? My mom used to say that more the difficulties and struggle you go through to “see” / “visit” God, the more pleased he’ll be with yourself. And even if that doesn’t happen, you’ve probably done too much struggle to deny it. We keep convincing ourselves.

Is it that we are looking for a refuge? Its easier to put the blame on destiny, luck, God and “the mysterious ways in which he works” when something doesn’t happen in the desired manner. I myself find comfort when I go to a temple. Maybe its conditioned in me. But I don’t want to fight it- not when I voluntarily chose to go there and seek something. I do not seek all the answers to life or truth or any such thing. Its those simple and silliest of wishes that we ask for- all that lie more within our power than anyone else’s. But still we do worship and pray. I personally like to go to small obscure temples where there’s not much crowd and its more peaceful. I can also justify it with the fact there are less prayers competing for God’s attention. However, I also reserve the important prayers for Super Gods and do my 5/ 7/11 Tuesdays at Siddhivinayak. My God knows I’m selfish. I think all Gods know that. Hence, they came to be.

But then, I look at all these “followers” and “believers” and ask if I have any right to question their faith? But I’m questioning my own faith isn’t it? And if I question it- do I have any faith at all? But then what is faith? Does its scope lie only within its defined meaning of complete, unfaltering trust? Isn't believing enough? I am a believer. But should that imply that I don’t question?
But how can I not question? There is no commandment forbidding us to think and question. Even if there were, would we follow it? Its not convenient.
It all boils down to three things: Convenience, Selfishness, and Fear.
Doesn’t it?

I have to pack and leave. I'm not sure why exactly I'm not exceedingly happy to leave for home.

I've been thinking, wondering, pondering, coming to my own confused conclusions, and through all of that, I think I'm still confused... about love, beliefs, people and what we tell others about our lives. Love is just another name for dependence and is mundane. Its glorified into beauty and romance in movies and books.
But I read this letter,

http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/books/book_extracts/article2651472.ece

and I realize its not just fiction that provides you that escape. Infact, is there any need to seek escape? I wonder why and where to do I want to escape?

Coming back to love and all things therefore, yes I think it is selfish and dependent and the act of getting used to someone's presence in our lives constitutes love for us. But then, whats wrong with it? Who defines love as something which has to be stars and goats and all those fancy things only?? The very fact that you are attracted to someone and the more you come to know them, the more fallacies you find, and yet you chose to stick along with that life of predictability - couldnt that be love in itself?? Even if you are doing so for the selfish reason of being in your comfort zone and other such reasons, the by-product of that act of selfishness does seem to forgive your intention or a lack of a noble intention, doesn't it?

So.. I think yes love is there. Those "awww.. so beautiful" type of love stories too happen in real life.. But maybe we have to make a choice if we want to stick through it or not. The headrush of present. Or that slow comprehension and realization in the future.

Souls..

We were talking about souls last evening. And this morning too.
Mystic Baba says all souls are the same.
He didn’t say anything about them living forever.

Are we new souls? Or old?
They say after your death, your soul lives on. Lives on, in where?
Where does it seek refuge? Does the soul not need a body as a body needs a soul? Where do new souls come from? So how many old souls are walking on this earth?And Why?
Does it have any purpose for carrying on? Or is it bound by its nature?What is its nature, then? Is it the soul's nature that we manifest in our behavior? Or is it our actions and thought that shape our soul and its nature? What differentiates one soul from another- its nature? If all the souls were the same, won't we all be the same?

Consider the Law of Conservation of matter and energy: Energy cannot be created or destroyed. It can be transformed from one form to another. The total amount of energy remains constant.
Our souls also are a part of energy aren’t they? They say, we will be nothing without our soul, which means that our soul is the most important factor that keeps us alive and going and hence I assume it is our energy. The essence within all of us…
If new souls are added every second to this earth, where does their energy come from?
Are they feeding away from the soul under which they are born? Souls- they too depend on others.
Does your soul get eroded as you age such that by your death it is diminished to the lowest form, wandering and seeking, the answers that you were looking all your life..?
Do they take the form of ghosts therefore..?

If they don’t live forever.. what happens to them? Do they just get lost in a whiff of air and the flow of water?

Too many questions. Should I ask Mystic Baba to kindly enlighten?

Bits of Life, while I'm on it...

My previous article was being edited for the newsletter. Being temporarily jobless, I was looking over the process and giving my insights and was rambling on about how I meant to write about something else and ended up writing about something completely different. All throughout, I kept thinking of the many things I wanted to blog about.
I distinctly recall thinking of fear and love. I've pondered about enough on love.
After that I watched this movie "Waking Life" and Whoa!! its amazing. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0243017/combined

There is this bit about how evolution has taken place for the entire population as such; how there has been no distinct evolutionary growth in the individual per se; how we all have not achieved what we possess the potential for and how there is a barrier that prevents us from reaching our real potential. To this, the philosophy professor says, “The answer to that can be found in another question, and that's this: Which is the most universal human characteristic - fear or laziness?”
http://strivinglife.com/words/post/Waking-Life-Chapter-8---Noise-and-Silence.aspx

And that was the moment for me. That scene basically made the entire movie for me.

It’s so true. All of our actions are influenced by fear or laziness, depending on the action we are about to commit.

We chase happiness and success because we fear unhappiness and failure or what we think are unhappiness and failure. We don’t do some things for the fear that the consequences of our actions may not be as we desire them to be. We do some things for the fear that our inaction may cause subsequent misery. We seek companionship because we are scared of ending up lonely and unloved. We don’t express our love for the fear of our egos and feelings being hurt on probable rejection. We are taught that fear is a form of reverence. We learn to fear our parents and teachers and strangers. We learn that if we commit any act condemned to be sinful by some, we will be punished by God and that the Devil shall take us. We learn to fear God’s wrath more than believing that God is probably a nice old chap. We fear death. We fear life itself. Fear is omnipresent, innit?

As for laziness, well yeah, we are a goddamned lazy species. All of us are bursting with ideas to change the face of humanity. But we are just so lazy that we prefer waking up in the afternoon and managing our own messed up lives. But some of us are too lazy to even do that. We sleepwalk through life, ingesting everything that is fed to us and vomiting the same bilge back. We go with the flow. But in reality, when we “go with the flow” its not a very conscious decision. We are not aware that out of the n options, the sole reason that we are going with the flow is not because we want to, voluntarily, but because we are just too lazy to carry out the other n-1 options. Procrastination is a normal involuntary action like eating tasty and unhealthy food, brushing our teeth, watching TV, etc. We delay everything that can be delayed and which wont cause too much of an inconvenience.

Sometimes fear overtakes laziness. Sometimes the latter subdues it.

The movie makes you think. It throws up so many ideas, theories, beliefs and opinions at you. And that is where you have to think and choose.
(I apologize if all this sounds as if I’m talking down to lowly forms of life or that I’m teaching two plus two equals four and not five. But my recent experiences force me to continue in this vein..)

When we see movies or read news/ articles etc, subconsciously somehow,we imbibe the opinions, views in them. We take in those opinions and beliefs and ideas without really considering the facts. I’m not saying everyone does it and that its wrong or anything of that sort. What I want to say is, there is an excess of information, views, ideas, beliefs and opinions all around us and one should examine all of them properly and learn to make his/ her own assessment of the situation and form his own opinion. Individualism is not about reading Ayn Rand’s Objectivity of Selfishness or her other novels and then claiming to be an individualist. One does not necessarily have to be highly selfish and self-centered to be Individualistic.While taking in all that’s thrown at us, we have to realize that this is someone’s view of something and this is how he/she portrays it.

So, while seeing the movie, I was all amazed and felt like “ yes, this is The TRUTH!!”. But then, later on I came to accept that this is, in the end, a work of fiction. It is someone’s view of reality and illusion and dreams. And its all brilliant. I even agree with some ideas and insights offered in the movie. But then I need not necessarily believe that it is the absolute, ultimate truth. Well, yeah all this is possible and its all cool too. But then it could be un-true too. That’s the best thing about ideas. You can just appreciate them and like them. You don’t have to accept them or believe in them. You can always challenge them and also walk away from them.

The dialogues/ lines will blow your mind away. Each one sounds like a statement of truth, beautiful and scathing. And I chose to believe, not because it sounds cool, but because I do believe that all our lives could be an illusion and we are just moving through one layer to another. And I believe that we must live this illusion. We could chose to be materialistic and perform our deeds and live our lives, chase our dreams knowing that in the end, it’s all an illusion and it doesn’t really matter. Or we could just walk through it like indifferent zombies accepting it as something which is pre-determined and which will not make any difference as to whatever we do. It may be true that the workings of ants could not cause any difference to stars and planets. But it may not necessarily be the only truth.

When we chose to live our life knowing that in the great cycle of life and death we are insignificant grains of sand, we must also accept that every second of our time is probably a whole lifetime for some beings. Even the lowliest form of life played a role in our evolution into an intelligent species. Every instant matters and every action in that instant matters. We influence others’ lives and actions by our actions without really considering it or being aware of it. If life is an illusion, Maya, then so be it. Why does reality have to be the opposite of it? Why can’t the illusion be the reality? That’s how it is. It is the reality. It is a dream, life. We are living our dreams. A lifetime of dreams. Think of it as lucid dreaming. Sometimes you can control your actions in your dreams. You can also control your own actions in your life. In lucid dreams, when you realize you are dreaming you also realize that you can control the situation and do what you want to do. Same with life, you have to come to realize that, yes there is fate and destiny, but you are there too and you can control the situation.

In dreams allegedly, you can’t switch lights on and off and time is twisted. In life, you cant change day into night and night into day, unless you can teleport ( That is an amazing possibility) and as for time.. well, we all measure it differently, some in years and seconds, some in people and places, and some in smiles, tears, sighs and glances.

A beginning.

Let me just type. Let me just write. I do not know what will result from this exercise.

But I need to do it, nevertheless. I hate not being able to write. That was my only outlet.

I feel suffocated, strangled, drowned, tied up and restless without it. There’s this inexplicable tightness clutching at my heart and I have no clue why and how to deal with it. There are these moments when you are restless and nervous. As if you know there’s something miserable waiting to happen, just around the corner and you don’t know what to do when you are face to face with it. That is how I feel. Any given moment when I’m not busy doing nothing important. Its physiological, mental, psychological and a lot of other things. There’s no word for it, yet.

There are no dreams. My mind’s become barren. Imagination has become infertile.

Does growing old do that to you?

Those days, when you were bursting with innocence, hormones, feelings, wishes. Those musings, pouring of words and tears, smiling into space thinking about nothing and everything, and those escapades into unreality- where have they gone?

The artist inside has ceased existing. There was no space for life. It was crowded with ambitions, mundane aims, selfish needs and walls. Walls around my heart, soul, mind. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out. Forever locked. Frozen. Yet burning within me every moment.

This is so juvenile. Still, its necessary.

There is this canvas waiting to be filled. But it remains white. White is a color? Or there’s such darkness that its black, impenetrable. Even grey fails to come on it.

Is it just that my outlets have closed or do I have nothing to express?

Either ways, I feel un-alive.

The entire world is an illusion. Do I just tread through this illusion waiting for it to end on my death? Or do I live it out? I have to live it out. Breathe in the scents and dust. I want to feel pain and happiness. Immeasurable pain and indefinite happiness. And express it the way I want to.

Nothing is stopping me. But I find myself incapable.

Something within is dying. There is the optimist lying docile.

There’s so much I want to do, want to achieve. But they all seem meaningless now that I feel incapable of doing what I thought I was best at and loved to- to write.

Maybe its my fault- I am lazy. Despite that, I just feel incapable otherwise. Its as if I’ve become handicapped, lost my limbs or lungs or heart or just everything.

Being sad and hurt allowed me to vent it out and write. Pain helps. I tried, in vain.

I think its true. As they say, external wound and pain are superficial and its when the heart is bleeding with sorrow and grief and misery that you really suffer. The turmoil within is worse than the injuries on surface. But I don’t have either. I tried the latter- got my ears pierced again in an attempt to “feel” the pain. Needless to say, it didn’t help matters much.

Even loneliness is something that’s so detached. Yet so deeply entrenched into the psyche. I feel miserably lonely at times. That solitude doesn’t encourage any creativity.

I think I’ve run out of reasons, of miseries to put blame on for my incompetence.

Nothing seems to help.

And I resort to whining, which just tires you out and saps your creativity further.

Maybe I should just continue to write. Somewhere, sometime I’ll find a way out or a way in. I must force myself to write everyday. I have to let things affect me. See, hear, feel and experience. And express everything. Maybe that will help.

I have to keep trying. I must.

some christmas revelation

Today we celebrated Christmas in the hostel. It was fun in some way..
I don’t know.
I’ve forgotten what it is to be guilelessly happy.
Carefree. Just plain happy. In the moment.
I cannot remember the last time I’ve been happy with all my heart and soul.
Have I forgotten a part of life?
Have I forgotten a part of me in some distant past?
Have I forgotten how to live and smile and care and feel??
Have I forgotten?

I just feel empty on the inside at times.
Insipid. Uninspired. Indifferent.
That wasn’t me.
Where did I go?
Where did I lose myself?
Where did I hide it so safe that I can’t retrieve it back?
Where is the real me?

What is it to live life to the fullest?
What is it to give your all into something you believe in?
What is it to love someone madly, passionately?
What is it to lose yourself in something you know will break you someday?
What is it to be deliriously happy?
What is it?
Have I forgotten?
Or have I never known?


sumtime b4 christmas actually was-- hostel celebrations.. '06

christmastime's been always like this for me...

hmmm.... love..??

Is love there?
yes it is.

Is it there for real?
yes it is.

Does true love happen once in a lifetime?
Yes, perhaps.

Is there such a thing as true love?
definitely so.

who could know?
a mother and wife, a husband and father, a boy and girl smitten, the stars, the leaves and the winds, many smiles, many sighs and many tears would hold testimony...

When would you know?
When it is meant to be...

Would you ever know ?
if im meant to be then yes mayb some day....


someday we'll know
if love can move mountains..
someday we'll know
why the sky is blue...
someday we'll know
why i wasnt meant for you...
someday you'll know
that i was the one for you...
...............
.... from the movie "A Walk to Remember"
(crazy song lyrics, or maybe i didnt get them alrite :P)

ahem..uh uh

Would i ever know what true love is ? for real?
if im lucky enough.. and a believer enough.

if you believe and believe with such a strength and conviction that could equal the certainty of day and night and of stars twinkling and flowers blooming... why, it would surely come true as sure as the lily springs in the pond...

or rather as Dr.Malone says...
"But it gradually seemed to me that I'd made myself believe something that wasn't true. I'd made myself believe that I was fine and happy and fulfilled on my own without the love of anyone else. Being in love was like China: you knew it was there, and no doubt it was very interesting, and some people went there, but I never would. I'd spend all my life without ever going to China, but it wouldn't matter, because there was all the rest of the world to visit... "And then someone passed me a bit of some sweet stuff and I suddenly realized Ihad been to China. So to speak. And I'd forgotten it."



So mayb some of us have been in love and never known, never realised.
some of us have been luckily reminded and we've realised and have accepted love when it came our way again...
Some of us have never been in love but believe that yes maybe there is our true love waiting for us... and maybe we'll one day know what it is, we'll know how china is...
Or some of us may just go along never thinking about it, never questioning ourselves whether we believe or not, seek or not.. and love may just pass us by without knowing what we have missed..because what you've never had you'll never know how it is to miss it.. how it is to miss something that you've never had.....


there are times when im too much of a cynic, a pessimist and a non- believer..
but then there are those times...

when im just busy doing something and my winmap is going on.. i have some song going on in my mind wishing it would play but too indifferent externally to go on n put it on.. then by some divine intervention with the system my song comes on.. n as it plays i feel that thing-- where you feel that some one- my latop/ my gods/ my fates/ my luck someone just read my mind and did it for me... someone out there is listening to my every thought, every wish. every dream, every heartbeat...

sometimes whem im playing with this kid at my place.. i'm engrossed in every ation, every uttered word, every expression of his, he'd be on my lap and i'd be doing baby talk and he sleeps off in my lap.. i feel that thing... if i could feel so so much for some baby who's not even related to me, imagine the love of a mother- the sheer strength of it..

sometimes when i'm writing or reading and i think of those things written about love--surely those things exist!!-- if only words could move me so much.. how would reality and love in it affect?

times when you are not doing anything, just sitting blankly listlessly and you get a call from someone you've been hoping or wishing to talk to someone, or some long lost thing turns up in front of your eyes(it was always there but you never noticed), or some long forgotten tune enters your mind and you keep humming it and you rush to hear the whole song, or some idea creeps in and you sit toiling till you've given shape to that idea.. how sudden impulses change your whole day....


words and silences,
the night sky and those rare sunrises,
drizzles and storms- rains,
wild flowers and green mountains,
they'll make me a believer....
anytime, anywhere..

11th may '07

Requiem for a Dream

i saw this movie on 29th april '07..
it disturbed. quite enough.

requiem for a dream-

requiem

requiem [rékwi əm, rékwi em]
(plural requiems) or Requiem [rékwi əm, rékwi em] (plural Requiems)
noun
1. Roman Catholic service for dead: a Roman Catholic mass held to offer prayers for somebody who has died
2. music for requiem: a piece of music written to accompany a requiem mass
3. commemorative music: a piece of music written to commemorate somebody who has died


[14th century. < Latin , 'rest', in Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine 'Grant them eternal rest, O Lord']

dream

dream [dreem]
noun (plural dreams)
1. sequence of mental images during sleep: a sequence of images that appear involuntarily to the mind of somebody who is sleeping, often a mixture of real and imaginary characters, places, and events
2. daydream: a series of images, usually pleasant ones, that pass through the mind of somebody who is awake
3. something hoped for: something that somebody hopes, longs, or is ambitious for, usually something difficult to attain or far removed from present circumstances
4. idle hope: an idea or hope that is impractical or unlikely ever to be realized
5. vague state: a state of inattention owing to preoccupation with thoughts or fantasies
walks around in a dream

6. something beautiful: somebody or something that seems particularly good-looking or wonderful


a painful experience. watching the movie that is. i dont know what hit me. its horrible to see people going crazy chasing wild dreams and then those dreams dying pulling those people along. a multiple death. of dreams and people. of souls that have been spent on dreaming. dreams can change life, they can make it die. addiction is the biggest harm you can do to yourself. addiction kills. addiction strips you down to mere banal flesh and bone and need.
sarah needs to lose weight so that she can look good on television which is because she thinks being on tv will make her more likeable and dispel the loneliness and age shrouding her. so she takes pills blindly and turns up a vegetable.
harry loses his left hand because of dope. he loses marion
ty n marion are stripped of dignity and life because of the same.
addiction is crazy kill.
i dont want to get addicted to anything.
i'm quitting. i'm trying desperately to quit. i will try badly to quit. smoking is injurious to health, i know that, dont i?

people die and their dreams die along with them.
dreams die and drag along people into that vortex of doom, death and misery.
a requiem for a dream. a service for those dead dreams. a requiem, a requiem.. just a requiem- for those who died, for those dreams that died and killed.


now the movie trivia~
Director:Darren Aronofsky
Writers:Hubert Selby Jr. (novel)Hubert Selby Jr. (screenplay) ...
Release Date:27 October 2000 (USA)
Genre:Crime / Drama
Tagline:From the director of [Pi]
Plot Outline:The hopes and dreams of four ambitious people are shattered when their drug addictions begin spiraling out of control.
Awards:Nominated for Oscar. Another 19 wins & 30 nominations
User Comments:Punishing and Unforgettable

Cast: Ellen Burstyn ... Sara Goldfarb

Jared Leto ... Harry Goldfarb

Jennifer Connelly... Marion Silver

Marlon Wayans ... Tyrone C. Love

Christopher McDonald ... Tappy Tibbons

for more goto : http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0180093/

rains...

this was written on 16th april '07.. when the sky had turned cloudy enough to allow me to hope that rains are on their way.. but of course i was being over- optimistic...

i wish it would rain.
it would be raining so bad you cant see the person standing next to you, cant see the imperfections, the fallacies, the mistakes and the wrongs.
it would rain so incessantly that you would flow away in its rhythm willing yourself to get lost in those wild torrents that threaten to suck you out of the ever widening void between you and the world around you.. like a leaf that drops from a branch and travels in the paths led by a wild wind and gets thrown away madly in the gale and yet seems to be enjoying its new found freedom- separated from its home, the tree.. yet that exhiliration to be swinging wildy, loose from shackles that bind you... let the wind play havoc with you,let it drag you away to places unknown, lands unexplored, let the raindrops siphon away all the remnants unwanted, let it whip you with such force that you feel every obliterating cobweb has been removed, only your unscarred soul -- helpless surrender to a greater force that promises you a freedom.a freedom albeit twisted and turned by its giver.. the wind made me free, i must follow its will..
would you be my wind? would you be my passionate wind??


rain rain please come my away.. drag me away..