Sunday, August 29, 2010

Whose loss?

Whenever people communicate, I have always seen they follow a pattern of their own. This is a resultant of various things. Attitude, thought processes, respect, self respect, ego, notions, false notions, understanding, misunderstanding, judgement and mis-judgement.

Whenever we communicate, we do so to either in an expectation of a response (or sometimes a reaction) and sometimes to just imbibe our idea within the other. These responses from another or imbibing of an idea may not always be in our favour and there can be many reasons for that (including the others attitude, notions, etc).

But whenever we expect a person to hear what we say, and expect that person to understand and respond accordingly, what is to be focused on most importantly is our 'way' of communication. I truly believe that if I am unable to get a point across to anyone, and that person doesn't understand me; or the person reacts to it, maybe I need to change my 'way' of communication and do a self check on my methods.

Even if another is wrong (genuinely - or according to us), that person deserves your best 'way' of getting your idea across. I have already stated that baseless anger is futile; and so are baseless arguments. So, if I try to imbibe my idea and expect a positive response from another, by being angry, rude, sarcastic, etc., I lose the chance for the person to understand my view point, and moreover, maybe close doors of sensible communication with that person forever. It is my loss.

Hence, I have resolved and so should everyone understand that whenever you want a person to understand you, your ways of communication have to be smooth. Of course, this also has exceptions.

Though people would say that this a common sense principle (which didn't require me to write it), and it doesn't require any rocket science kind of analysis, I merely write this because people ignore this very 'common sense' principle with themselves.So the next time you feel you have a genuine point and are trying to communicate it to another, but the other just doesn't seem to understand you - or retaliates, it is wise to check within.

If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough. - Albert Einstein

I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right. - Albert Einstein

Friday, August 20, 2010

I am privileged

Staying in the past need not necessarily be only be about the bad memories. It may a recollection of blissful moments, which you would like to live on in your memory each day of your life - which makes your present and future a great journey, that those moments of bliss were once yours. Do all get to live those?

I did get to live those - and I am living them each day. Prisha, I miss you a ton. Wish you could understand what I truly am. Love you. Forever. Though I have nothing; but within me, I have everything.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Your Wanderer

Something is sleeping within me; something yet wide awake
When the leaves are evergreen, they should seldom be raked
Floating are some sweet orchids in the skies flying above me
My amour has now dripped in me, and within me filled a sea

Wandering through the desert, and sometimes the land
The heart cannot fathom the distance stretched beyond
My soul cries always outstretching its imaginary hand
To go to her, blissful absence; my solitude is made of sand

The pearls of my tears which flow by missing you,
Your Gods are envious too, as they are so very true
The stars which shine each night, some night clouds
Tough they are far away, yet within me they never shroud

And as I walk, and see the souls stray in their oblivion searching
I ask them to go where they belong, or rest in their graves
And when they leave, this irony within me always is nurturing
I am your wanderer; you are my land, and your amour, my waves

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

You are the One

I thought you are a part of me, but you aren’t. How can you be? A part can be severed or separated. But you are in me. In fact, now I am not me anymore, but you and I together, are me. When I say “I” it is more of you and less of me. How comfortably you came and took a permanent residence within me. So comfortably, that  so much of me left me. I am now nothing, but more of you. Yes, you Prisha. You are the One.

I walk a while each night, and as I do, you speak to me. You speak to me every time. While I am reading or while I am working. While I am eating and while I am drinking. You advise me when I am in trouble. You never leave me even when someone is talking to me, as I listen to you more clearly than any sound this earth can provide. I hear you in music, but you are clearer than the music. Your voice is the music, when my surroundings are silent. You comfort me when I miss your presence in the human form. You comfort me and say to me that I don’t need to worry anymore, for you are always awake in me - even as I sleep. In the night as silent fills around me, you whisper to me candy flossed words which lull me to sleep. You wake me up and tell me to feel the day and face whatever comes of it. I can even see you many a times. I walk with you, holding your hand.

But most, I can hear you and see you at the same time when I write. Yes, Prisha I can. These words are not flowing out of me, because you are within me more. Oh, there are so many things you tell me. If I would have the resources to write on the blank page everything you say to me, I would need to take unaccounted number of births. For writers, the muse is an imaginary voice, but for me – there is nothing like that. I have no voice, but a soul within me. That soul is you, Prisha; and I carry you everyplace.

I am blissful just listening to you. You make me laugh, you make me cry. You make me dream, you make me wonder why. You make me ponder; you make my heart grow fonder. Such beauty within, something’s so very nice; I wonder if any mortal gets this to rejoice; and to Mother Nature, I think I cannot repay her debts forever. She gave me you. I have everything I need to live soulfully and live so true.

Tell me more Prisha, for your words are more beautiful than any sonnet, and as I type, I feel like a musician playing the Piano. So, what on earth do you want to talk about Prisha? Which story do you want to tell? Which poetry do you want to recite? Which words of yours become couplets? Speak to me. I am all ears; all my life.  

The silence is no longer screaming, because the soul has started believing. So farthest it can go from eyes unseen, to a place of love, mortals seldom have been. – Marcus Hades

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

A Privilege...

If you judge people, you have no time to love them. - Mother Teresa
If you truly love someone, you will find no time to judge them. - Marcus Hades

It is said that when a person is about to die, he doesn’t lie and his dying declaration is considered as an evidence in any court of law. Why? Isn’t it obvious (unless a person is absolutely wicked), he will speak the truth at that trice? A person spoke shortly to the one he loves and whom he would never ever meet again or talk to again; time was short and words were superfluous, but yet, words were there. On that juncture, don’t words become equivalent to evidence of the feelings or things? Anyways, maybe more on that sometime by next week, because for now, I actually drifted from what I really wanted to say to you all.

There are so many people who want to love, but cannot. They are too occupied in just surviving, like a beggar, a construction worker… oh countless examples of people who are just trying to get one meal a day; and sometimes even that one meal is not square. They suffer from this world and nature. They suffer from us. From disease. The cold, rains, heat and God knows what not makes them suffer each day; and even kills them. Their life is a living nightmare. Is love important for them? Yes. Do they realize that it is important for them. NO. Because their life is consumed by misery and suffering. They don’t have the space to even think about it most of the time, I guess. Do they have ego and understand how it may come in between a love story? I guess not. But we definitely do. Right?

We do not have to suffer ANY of that (I presume you don’t have to, each day of your life, if you are able to read this online on your computers right now). We can think about so many things besides just surviving, can’t we? We can think about intellectualization, materialism, spiritual growth, self gratification by so many means and modes and what not. And the best part is, we can even achieve it. And one thing which we also seek is love – maybe consciously, sometimes subconsciously. Because we have all the means to even fulfill it. But do we even bother to see that getting to love someone and spending even one day thinking about that person is a privilege? A privilege which is so easily taken for granted that we make hasty decisions, break relations and sometimes keep our ego on the forefront. Miscalculations and misjudgments; bigotedness and selfishness has surrounded us. Love deserves to be given a chance, but we don’t give it a chance. We all think we deserve a chance, but another doesn’t. Love needs to pure, but we soil it with infidelity – in thought or action. We all want lifelong love, but we give up when we have to work on the relation; and what it would require is just a little communication, a little time, a little understanding and little emphasis on what is truly important. So, the next time, you see an orphan, a person who is handicapped, blind; a person who is working hard just to survive – think. Think – are you really loving someone? Do you really 'know' and understand that you are privileged?

Friday, August 6, 2010

Some more couplets

  • From my eyes, sometimes a stream, sometimes a river or a fountain; but now when fate gives me a hill, I tread to conquer the mountain.
  • Walls can never keep you out of me, as you always reside in my heart. Distances to cover it does not see; bodies may be, but my soul from yours is never apart. 
  • So I start another journey, alone but never lonely; it shall not now end soon I wish, for this bliss of missing you I dare not abolish