Finding yourself should not be this hard -
All you should have to do is to blow a balloon with some air from your heart,
and tie it to your wrist and let it take you to the place of your dreams.
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You cannot, he said. I can, I said. We both were wrong.
When life is being life, I am being me.
When I was walking in the woods, I met life who asked me if I wanted to learn dueling. She punched me on the face and said, punch me back. I punched her back. She screamed not in pain, but in frustration and said, “Not by hand, you moron. By your smile”.
I was told that freedom is great. The only time I met it was when I tried to wrest it out of life. I almost had it.
When the sun came down, I asked him if he can take me up in the sky. He told me that it was lonely up there. I insisted and he took me up with him. Before, I saw the world completely from up there, he dropped me down on the other side of the world.
I saw a man through a red glass and he looked red. When I put on green glass, he was green. Then, I took my glass off and he had vanished.
My biggest asset seems to be that I have no clue most of the time. Hence, life does not bother embarrassing me as she yet does not understand what I know. I am afraid of the day when I start understanding things.
There is something amazing about the circle. Sun and moon are circles. Life runs in circles. Every important trajectory I came across is in someway a circle. Even when scrubbing vessels, I noticed that scrubbing in circles cleans better.
I can watch the Sun only when he is starting his work or finishing it. When he is brightest and highest, it scares me to even consider looking at him. I just let him do his work in peace.
I feel that doing work and getting discovered for it are too much of a burden for any one soul to bear. It is better to choose one over another.
I took break from work for seven days and nights and prayed to life to grant me riches. When I finally had to bid farewell to life, it said, I was almost there and seven more days of work would have made be as rich as I wanted to be.
You can wear all the costumes you want and dance before the stars. The stars neither care for your dance and nor your costume.
It intrigues me that everybody loves to dance when they think nobody is watching them.
Several times, I said to my master, “I am not your slave. I am going to cross the river and get away from you”. She smiled and let me go. But, every time I tried to cross the river, the river seemed to get wider and wider. And every time, my master sent a boat that picked me from right in the middle of the river and brought me back to her.
There is no contradiction in an oak tree wanting to be an elephant. Because even if the oak tree is huge and has a trunk, he cannot be an elephant. Similarly, if a dog tries to be a horse by running fast and trying to whinny, he is still known as a dog. But, only a man can take any form by his actions. Even though, on the insides, he may be what he is.
If a thought enters my mind, I observe it necessitating me into taking an action. An action, which I observe myself taking, even though I had decided against taking it.
Even when the sun is farthest in the evening during the sunset, I see him disappearing really fast beneath the horizon in a matter of minutes. Maybe, he is not immune to gravity either.
Even clouds cast shadows as they move through the sky. Neither the clouds are permanent not the shadows they cast. I always wonder, if the clouds do come down and join the ocean, will they become as permanent as the ripples are.
When I started writing, someone told me I write because I am sad. On the contrary, writing is a happy process for me. Maybe, the sadness disappears in the ink. I always wonder whether the same ink makes others as happy as it made me?
It is ironic that a poem penned by anything but a turbulent heart cannot move a leaf, let alone a soul.
They say in astrology that an afflicted moon makes a man insane. But, it also shows that great men and women who we admire, have the most severe of afflictions. Even the history books tell the same.
In other birth, words must have been a mirrors. Every time, I had to stare at words on a page, they have always reflected something to muse about.
One of the biggest contradictions to me is how I have walked into traps knowing that they are traps but believing that they are not. It happens every time. It is funny.
Meditation is not sitting with your eyes closed. It is just an act of observing with your eyes open. When you sit with your eyes closed, you get illusions. When you observe yourself with your eyes open, you see the illusions.
It surprises me that a simple act of observing myself, a very personal process, manifests as words on a paper; this is not so personal.
A thought came to me. It asked me to let go of it. I told it to go. It did not go. It still asked me to let it go. I didn’t know what to do. I was stuck in a deadlock. The thought did not know how to go and I did not know to let it go. We both hoped that one day we would figure out how to liberate the thought. The thought was being held captive in my head. But, it didn’t want to be there and was causing me a lot of distress. It knocked the walls of my head to find a crack through which it can slip. But, my head was full of memories, so tightly packed that, the thought started choking. The memories consumed it after a while, and made it one of their own. Now, I don’t hear the desperate call for the help by the free thought anymore. I am glad not to tormented by its lament for freedom. But, I do hear whispers deep inside my head from voices that were once loud.