Posts Tagged ‘introspection’

The Perpendicular Universe unfinished

Been a while, I haven’t penned anything on these leaves. I have been lost in the humdrum of the mundane. A job that sucks me in, and eats away my precious hours. Takes me away from the world of writing. But these special leaflets are always there. In the backdrop of my head. Silently calling me. Making me feel the void. Trying to make its presence felt. Then life manages to put me in front of the screen somehow, as if the croons of this blog get heard.

I wish to press these leaves with only the best. Maybe that’s what takes a lot of time. To only fill the easel with quality work. My brother had asked me to keep it as a wont, when I am in the right zone. To him it is one of my best collections hitherto, a magnum opus weaved with a keen wisdom. I intend to keep it that way. It lets me unspool myself, the real me, into validation. An introspection of sorts that might reflect the real me to a reader if there is one at all.

Today, I am squeezed into work so much that this blog stays hidden from me. I distribute myself to others, so much that I forget my own identity. But this right here, this, lets me appreciate myself. When I take a step back to look at it, I realize it is nothing but my mirror. It lets me behold the real me. It lets me fathom myself more. Words smeared on these blanks tell me that I am different. It lets me dig deeper into a head of a writer, a poet who is insanely in love with words, with a brain uplifted and a head that reeks of beautiful and sentient thoughts.

What is unfortunate is the fact that he barely has time to cover ‘em all. There is so much beauty yet to read, so many wonderful people yet to encounter, so many experiences yet to experience, so much land yet to cover, so much love yet to shower, so many unknown faces yet to scan, so many enthralling creations yet to marvel at, and there are so many gorgeous thoughts in his skull still embryonic, veiled, that can only unfurl with time. It’s a shame that it’s running out.

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Limo

I remember the time I wrote this. Reclining in a not-so-comfy office chair in Chennai. Had plenty of time then, primarily because there was no work, also no one around because of the night shifts I was stuffed into. My mind would occasionally fleet to horizons of introspection and quite frequently to dismay. As I tried to linger on the same old sweet grief from the past of a body I couldn’t put a face to, I fell into the pits of cogitation. I wondered how all this time I was just by myself. Was life supposed to be like this? Am I going to find the one? Do I have someone written for me?

I have this bizarre emotional side to me that I am not that proud of, yet at times I am, probably because it emanates some brilliant streams of thoughts that bring life to a dead page. Read this beauty, drenched in simplicity, that I had penned going into that powerful yet innocent zone of sentience that brought tears to my eyes with its veritable surge. I am asking for my soul-mate to apparate into my life:

You are right there in the corner

I feel your presence.
I know you exist.
Am sure you are there,
Just out of my reach.

You lie in creation.
Without a face, without a body.
Yet I know,
You are right there.

Just within a hand’s reach,
Wish I had longer arms
I would hold you tight
And never let go.

Tired as I am,
To see you in the mist,
Wish I had vision, more clearer,
To see through, what lies yonder.

Wish I had a mouth,
That actually spake,
Every once in a while,
Words that’d bring you to reality.

Aware as I am,
Of your vibes around me,
Wish I could feel your skin
Against mine.

Wish I had that profound a heart
That would sense your presence,
And tell me,
You are around.

Wish I had at least,
Those wary ears
To hear your voice
That would assure me of your arrival.

You are not distant.
Close as you are,
I can sense your scent.
Wish I had better olfaction.

Oh my other half!
My precious reflection!
Wherever you are,
Just find me

Or knit me at least,
A path
That would guide me,
To you.

Tell me!
With words of love
Where do I look,
With these blind eyes?

Or hark with heed,
At my screeching door,
For your chiming bell.
Just tell!

I know you are perfect,
In every dimension,
In every world
Just built for me.

Oh my Yin!
I am empty without you.
Come to me soon!
And resurrect this dead.

steady

So many days of in and out. So many days spent impregnating the city of dreams. Finally the summon happened, the quick, the unforeseen and the desperate call, that broke it to me. It’s a Pune calling after all.

As I sat in my ride that promised a dreamy tomorrow, I fell into introspection. My brows quivered with,  “How did I get here?”

Change. It isn’t surprising to me anymore. I have seen it thousands of times knocking at my door. Ever since I saw the light for the first time, steady hasn’t stopped to rest in my palate. Possibly because I have inadvertently believed stagnancy to be for cowards, for the weak who are afraid to find what is out there. I believe in transcendence. I worship exploration. What turns me on is this constant battering in my head: What if I die unfurled? What if I perish unbloomed? What if I don’t get to see the better side of the world?

If purpose has a life, then I am damn sure traveling has been inscribed into my soul deliberately. Could be a reason why my father found Air Force to begin with. Life of an airman was never steady. With incessant postings thrown at his face, we have always wound up in strange lands amongst contorted languages. As a kid, I have had the pleasure of acquainting and embracing the unknown. Reason why peculiar doesn’t surprise me anymore. Under the aegis of my father, I have traveled most parts of the country, breaking barriers and boundaries, learning freedom quite young. So have the rest of my family. My brother, an equally zealous creature of light, enjoying the gusto of life, with traveling chances served to him in silver platter, has rambled even more than me.

In the beginning it was hard. The times of the flying doves and letters lost in transportation. We believed in threads of life then. Those brilliant connections that kept us alive and agile every day. We had friends we were reluctant to let go. There was always a goodbye staring at us from the end of the tunnel and we would know there was ‘lost’ painted all over it. But the timeline has taken a brilliant warp today. Now we have phones, internet and what not to keep them closer to our heart. We are no longer afraid of a ‘so long’. Looking back has become a mere zippy stare at a teeny screen.

Fate has this funny way of putting you at places your maps have been inked into. It is inadvertent. Involuntary. One moment you are treading known roads, kicking familiar stones, the next moment, you find yourself trampling over odd rocks.

You will cease to exist the day you create your boundaries. The day you demark yourself saying: “This is me. I will not go beyond this”. The universe wouldn’t be interested in you then. Because you are not seeking it. There is no thrill for questions in you. You are happy in doubt. That is the end of you. Clarity is meaning. Dubiety is inconsequential.

Now I embrace change with open arms. The new city offers me everything I have always wanted. Maybe it is fate’s way of pushing me towards an attraction I am unaware of. Maybe my roads intertwine somewhere ahead with a future. May be change is a nature’s way to keep me breathing. Or maybe to cross my paths with an epiphany ahead.

If plans floor under my shoes, I know that I love to walk. There is surprise in my eyes, wonder in my heart, and mirth in my soul. So, all I am gonna do is tread along, smiling, loving and caressing every transformation that I encounter.

My words are precious. I don’t wish to waste my words on someone I am willing to forget.

That being said, I wouldn’t bring people who don’t matter to me into the picture ever. (Like I ever did……wait, what? I would do that subtly many times but I wouldn’t pin point them, right? right?)

I would love to do an introspection every now and then. It would help me realize what changes I went through over a span. Today when I peruse myself carefully, I am stupefied to find out the result. I am a changed man. I have changed horribly, to the extent that I don’t recognize myself anymore.

Few days ago, I was blunt, carefree and awesome. Now I hate myself. People hate me for what I have become and it is all justified. I wish I could change that. I have been roped into an image I used to abominate.

I had self-respect. Now I have none. Nowadays I take it. Earlier I had this ‘Fuck-the-World’ attitude. Now I have become less reckless. I have started caring for people more. I don’t want that though. It binds me in a cuff and smothers me every minute.

Sometimes people do that to you. Sometimes circumstances. My case isn’t the latter. I have been manipulated by my brain gazillions of times. My heart supplements that bastard. I comply like a robot even if there is one percent chance of a happy ending. I relate to Ted Mosby, of How I Met your Mother, a lot in that department. In the process, I have hurt myself a thousand times.

I would always end up trying to satiate my heart. I am so delicate in that area. It seems I have a hole there, waiting to be filled by a serum only my other half retains. The pain is so acute, that it makes me desperate for the real ‘her’. In acts of desperation, I end up making formidable moves and taking wrong decisions.

The reason I allow myself to be manipulated is exactly what this maxim paints – “Things you do for love“. Then again, I realize, and I am well aware of, my reluctance to hurt a living thing. I could be blunt, arrogant and carefree once again. But the question is, at what cost?

I appreciate things around me. I concentrate on the good. I overlook patches. This helps me perceive beauty in everything. I would rather be happy with a glass half full than waste my time sulking about its emptiness. The precise reason why I fall in love with good qualities and overlook bitterness. But unfortunately people take my love as my weakness and exploit me like a slave, whilst I obey considering them my masters. Upsetting them would mean losing them. I don’t like that. I wouldn’t want that. But if I don’t, then I wouldn’t be free.

I have to take a stand now. I have to take chances. I have to trust my guts and do what is best for me. For once, I have to be selfish. If I don’t, I would be taken for granted.

I have downgraded myself so much today that I have to look up from this pit, I am in. I wish, for once I shut down my emotional warehouse and take flat decisions. Decisions that are going to hurt people, and me of course, yet effective enough to save lives in the process.

I am way over my past. I am glad about that. Yet I haven’t forgotten her completely. I wouldn’t want her to fade ever. I am well aware that we are together somewhere in a parallel universe. That feeling is beautiful. Those special moments we spent together in this life, I lived all of ‘that’, just like she did, and I am a proud owner of my memories. No one can change that. Not even you, my readers! Your trial would be my denial.

Some might say, I am in love with the idea of love as Karen, Hank Moody’s wife in Californication quoted. Even I would feel helpless explaining that, just like Hank felt, to a person who doesn’t comprehend love at all. I am glad I have been blessed with the ability to sense, feel and love. It escalates me to a level, safe and sound, and of course, well above the ’emotionless’.

Image

I have been meaning to write this for so long. I have been watching ‘creation’ closely. How it pleasures me! How it rejuvenates me! How I feel, I have done something meaningful after an act of creation. Don’t we all jump with joy when we ‘create’?

There is something about creation that enthuses us. While we are in the process, it brings smile to our faces. It is one of the most beautiful feelings on this mundane planet. Glad we never run out of reasons to smile.

Just rein your thought-horses for a while and ask this question, “Why do you think we are here?” There’s gotta be something, that someone wants of us. We are placed deliberately like pawns in a board of chess. We are supposed to move as our master commands. We must follow something. Also our movements are confined. We can’t barge like a rook or gallop like a knight. We are being watched. We can’t escape the chess-pod. There is nothing out there, just death!

What if there is no master up there? What if nobody is playing us? Are we bereft? Are we dropped just because our superiors wish to see us how we behave, without a fixed purpose?

There has to be something remarkable and useful that we are supposed to do. We have been conferred all those Lego blocks (here matter) that we are supposed to play with, who knows what for, could be just to impress our FATHER.

Okay, carrying out a proper introspection of ourselves, we gather the following facts. Here I’ll quickly rant about some of the major body parts meant to incite creation.

  • We have been given hands. Alright! Bam! That’s for creation. Let us use them to build, create and adorn new things.
  • Then there are eyes, which could definitely be meant for perceiving our creation and of course marvel.
  • Ears and mouth would aid a team to communicate while they create, so they share work and eschew burdens.
  • Legs are accorded so that we could move and create things at different locations all across the globe. Just imagine, without legs, how our compilations would pile up and we would fail to acknowledge creation of others.
  • A brain full of thoughts permeates us, so that we never run out of ideas. So far, we have been successful in thinking every possible thought there is. Our ideas will never cease to exist. Our still waters still run deep.
  • Nose to inhale the invigorating fragrance of our artifacts. Also to breathe wonderful aroma of nature’s creation. Don’t we love inhaling the awesome scent of food getting cooked?
  • The act of savoring our creation is taken care of by our rapacious tongue. Let us chew our food properly with our teeth to extract the gist from a morsel and then relish it with the bounty hunter.

If we are here, I am sure it is not just for eating, drinking and sleeping. We are bestowed with hands not just for wiping our ass when we are done.

When I give a good look at my activities, I come up with creation at every step. (Remember this! I am mentioning this not coz of vanity but just to slip you an instance.)

I write.
I cook.
I imagine.
I draw.
I animate.
I paint.
I review.
I code.
I earn.
I learn and produce.
I compose.
I rhyme.
I think.
I fantasize.
I doodle.
I picture.

All of the above mentioned activities are dipped in creation. I love doing them all. Even while you read a book, you create instances and make them happen in your thoughts. You imagine them. It is always the first time with you. It is your thought. It is your creation. Your thoughts might come into synchronization with thoughts of others, but they would still remain yours.

We create at every step. Even if you don’t have any talents, you still create ‘events’. Every day, new events happen. None of the events have ever reiterated. If they have, then you have defeated time.

There is a reason why we are here. Whenever I ask myself the question why, I always end up with one and only one solution : CREATION