Onset of winters dampens my soul
& I am on a lookout of summer
even before it’s gone.
Days are shorter & light fades early.
I sit on my Veranda solemnly &
my spirits mourn something I don’t know;
It is an inexplicable feeling &
I think maybe that’s my soul’s obeisance
to the retreating summer that my body
Maybe that’s my Goodbye to a
season before I blend into the calm of winters & forget about the sunny days because one does.
One blends with what nature offers.
It is a strange thing, Hysteria of losing
something is more in the last moments
while you still have it than when it’s gone
just like love. Isn’t it?
In the last moment of uncertainty and
doubt while you are still with your lover.
You are afraid of parting like it will kill
you when in fact the distance & apathy
kills you each day.
We fool ourselves in making better
of something that cannot be any worse
& in those moments we are most afraid.
We lie to ourselves & we don’t want to be caught.
But when the winter kicks in with all its effect
we get engrossed in it. We have our reasons
to accept it with an open arm, Christmas,
Snow, Coats, Boots, Rum, Holidays.
That’s how the seasons flow & that’s how the
life works. Take pleasure and be merry with the
the warmth something or someone brings in your life & then when it gets dark and cold, take a moment to say Goodbye. You might be unsure,
afraid but it will pass like seasons do & when
it does you’ll have a beautiful year to look forward to!
I came across this wonderful art piece by chiara bautista & instantly knew that I should write on this. —————————————————————
So it’s true, there are two kinds of learning. One, that of your mind which is merely an adaptation of findings of law, science, civilization and universe. And then there is learning of your heart. There is no rule book or syllabus to it. Your heart learns what it is exposed to & though this may continue lifelong but your childhood exposure builds your tendencies most significantly. Scholars call it psychology of child development & this is what brings me to my topic.
• Firechild •
A child’s heart should not be exposed to silence. A child’s heart should not be exposed to absence. For it’s too fragile to make peace with it.
Today the little one may play through the silence & giggle through the absence. But the heart remembers. Heart yearns & Heart longs for embrace.
Tomorrow when he’d grow through lack of love & care. He might be as good as others on the outside but his insides will be susceptible. He’d be like a helium balloon just as pretty, rising the sky but much more explosive & much less stable.
What do you do when you slip on a watery surface? You clench the first thing you can grab and so would he. He’d cling to people with an extraordinary passion. Because the heart remembers. Heart yearns & heart longs for embrace. But who’s to fill the deficit needs of a thirsty heart? Noone can & no-one will!
He’d cling to drugs & delude himself. A mirage to hide contractions. If you are already lost then what’s the harm in getting too lost?
I hope amongst all this chaos, lingerings & delusions this firechild finds his flame. Because the ones who are given too little are the ones who have too much to give.
So before your heart explodes carrying all that it holds, just know; What to do with all that love in you? Pass it on in your deeds. Pass it on in your words. Pass it on in your songs. Pass it on in your art. Pass it on in your smiles
You have to be invisible when
you are lost in a jungle,
Wear camouflage like a
cloak for survival.
You have to mark trees to know
that you are not circling to the same ones.
This jungle is a maze with fresh air
and deadly animals.
At night, you have to drop dead silent &
blend with the eeriness,
as if you don’t exist.
Someone told me that one must not change their intrinsic nature no-matter what they receive.You should be true to yourself at all times. How can it be? If every action has an equal & opposite reaction so how can I serve dessert on the plate of a person who pours poison in my drink?
On some days I am a grenade blowing
my sanity in moments of weakness.
I have a hole in my heart that leaks
all the eclipsed emotions in my
nervous system to a point that the
roof of my restraint is blown sky high;
In that moment I lie bareheaded
under the dark sky at midnight.
Ghosts of my mistakes appear from under
the bed & tap dance on the wooden floor;
Tap Tap Tap the mischievous symphony goes.
Then comes the point for truce declaration;
So I write about the wrongs, the rights & the
rights that turned wrong.
Tales of Hero & Villains & Time for thats
always an added dimension.
For I must spill to be contained & I only have paper!
I saw this young girl walking tightrope
in Chandni Chowk.
Just before getting up on the rope she touched
ground and chanted some inaudible prayer.
As she slowly and steadily rope walked,
her mother walked beneath to catch her incase
she falls .
Anyways, I kept on observing her.
After she finished her act, I gave her some money and
“What will you do with the money you collect? ”
She looked at me with surprise and said she needs it to buy food.
” What will you do with it if not for food? ”
I want to go to school and became a teacher one day.
I will use it to pay my school fees.
And that day it suddenly
dawned on me that one person’s
privilege is another’s dream.
And that dreams aren’t free;
It may seep in at night
but when the sun dawns &
you don’t have money to
put bread on your plate
you can’t remember your
It is lost in the quest of
assembling basic amenities
Just like that little girl,
her days passed walking
the rope, collecting
change and her dreams
became insignificant on
the face of a few coins.
What you and I might
tip a waiter was the price
for her freedom of dreaming.
It’s unfair isn’t it?
So feel lucky if the only price
to pay for your dreams is
hard work because dreams
aren’t a fair play.
Also know, that your winnings
will always be incomplete
and partial until every one in
this world will have the
freedom to dream and to
pursue it because believe me
or not there are millions of
talents who aren’t even contending.
They are busy earning their living!