I wish I was fond of love

I wish I was fond of love,
which diminishes their value,
Of people who did not leave their side,
when lovers were totally untrue

I wish I was fond of love,
which makes a grandiose appearance,
and leaves ones heart empty,
Unawares of its riveted arrogance

I wish I was fond of love,
which limits itself in a form,
which makes one believe only in gaining,
where manipulation is the norm

I wish I was fond of love,
which revels in grandiose existence,
where most seem like doing the world a favour,
creating in guise, other humans with persistence

I wish I was fond of love,
the idea of which lasts forever,
but in its quest to be complete,
is treasured in moments, never

I wish I was fond of love,
in which lovers are able to hate after they depart,
in which replacing someone is a sport,
in which filling a void comes naturally,
and in which pettiness becomes the tradition

I wish I was fond of love,
which doesn’t realize the gold of fleeting moments,
which doesn’t know that it makes the heart grow,
which falls in the feet of fate so easily,
which grows cold as it snows

I wish I was fond of love,
which they speak about aloud,
which they think about day and night,
and which dissipates slowly from the heart,
at the mere thought of inveterate incapability

How to brainwash nations

 Summary tutorial - How to brainwash an entire nation 101:

1. Understand the specifics of the weak psycho-social mindset of most of the population in the country. Hire some socio-cultural experts to enable the specific influences over the same. 

2. Tap on topics which the majority are inclined to have an affinity towards like caste, poverty, religion, etc. through social media floods. Hire social media experts to do the same on a constant 24/7 basis.

3. Make internet available and accessible to every possible class. Keep the nation busy and hypnotized. Keep negative comments edited and magnify positive comments through social media engineering (keeping sure the citizens are unaware of how this functions - or it even exists). 

4. Make those topics as more important over the needed ones by constant badgering. Make them sound as the need of the hour over other important issues. Create a sense of security when there is none, a sense of effective governance even if scarce. Use social media as in point 2. 

5. Define classes and divisions which already exist and make the differentiation and discriminatory aspects louder, and consequently, psychologically widen the gap further. This would further impact the existing sad state of unity amongst the citizens. 

6. Create an “us versus them”, “partriot versus antinational” environment through constant badgering as per point number 1,2 and 3. Create definitions within to make people think they are on one side or another, and there is no middle ground. Create a culture of pretense patriotism. 

7. After attaining some power, gain more power by asking celebrities, news channels or influencers endorsing every act of yours in positive light, whether they be positive or negative. 

8. Be unavailable for comment or interviews with people and institutions where practical questions could be asked. Only broadcast / telecast speeches or interviews which are doctored to feed the importance of points 1 to 6 as reinforcement techniques.

9. If practical problems arise, follow point 8 and go back to point number 1. Repeat. Ensure creating emblems, flags, structures and gatherings which feed the importance of 'belonging' through points 1 to 6.

Lots of plans?

I need to remember this. Having a lot of choices only keeps you away from your goals. Just thought I’d share an insight during my time here. The problem with thinking that you have too many choices could be a great loss of strength for a meaningful goal. Fear keeps us away from pursuing into thinking that we need to go after only one main goal. So we intrinsically go after several, either out of the desire for more of ‘life’, or as a backup plan in case we fail at Plan A. We immediately ride on the programmed way of thinking we have a plan B and plan C, and yes, we’re efficient in thinking about those. That gives us a sense of control.

It doesn’t hurt to have a plan B and C mapped out in a small corner, but the riveted effect of you giving them too much importance is that you don’t take plan A too seriously. Fear and the necessitated desire for half-living always cripple your courage. Plan A will seem like this impossible (but good to have) “dream” that you need to try out once in life, because those sentimental quotes and proverbs about not dying with any regrets made your heart tickle a little bit. We misread words to fit our bubble of thinking, and we would rather be brave in small matters than larger ones. I believe that the successes we see around us are the result of those people thinking they didn’t have a plan B. But again, those people also had all the body parts which signify courage (for the unfamiliar I am referring to gut, balls and cheek). We only have to follow through on our courage. So, I think it is time to chuck all the plan B’s.

Lets see what can I do with this thought. What can you do with it?

My wish...

I can’t be with you all the time,
of why I’m very sure
But then it would be serious crime,
To not teach your soul to soar

So my boy and girl, please understand,
I love you too much to let you know
My wishes for you form my every strand,
And hence, even in darkness, you will glow

I wish you understand more,
about the uncertain nature of love
People want it to be eternal and more
While they don’t accept its many forms

I would like you to pay good attention,
When time doesn’t tide in your favor
It will be forced to change its direction,
And even small triumphs you must savor

And when walking in the storm, know well,
when to be agile, and when stealthy
You shall seize the day even from hell,
And of wisdom shall be wealthy

Do not hear their redundant teachings,
Who stop you from being who you are
Let them calculate their misreading’s,
While you look up the moon and stars

This is all I’ll say today,
In the fear of being a bore
All I will forever convey,
Is the power for your soul to soar

Knowing you? or Loving you?

As they walked towards the beach, she felt lighter being in his company than she did a few days back. She felt acquainted to him again. She now felt more comfortable after witnessing how he tipped the driver more than generously and recollecting what he had said to him.

After reaching the beige colored sands, which got darker as the sun was setting, they picked a place to sit down.

“You’re still kind. You just have a warped sense of feeling that you have changed. I still feel that you’re the same guy I met more than two decades ago. Maybe you just feel you’ve changed, but it isn’t true.” She said, as she looked towards the horizon.

“I think you’re miscalculating, and I never want you to do that.” he said.

After her silence to this, while she smiled a little, he continued, “I was kind to that driver due to the limited view I had of his facts and his horrid circumstance and he seemed like a good person. That’s all. I am sure if I would know him well enough, things may have been different.”

“But you do love some people in your life, and I know you love me. You know all of us well. What you’re saying doesn’t make sense.” She said

“I don’t think that’s love on its own. That is a result of responsibility and comfort. Most of the times, love is the result of comfort due to what we think we know. Most of the times, the more you know someone, can result in two things – one is comfort, and the other is discomfort or indifference, and sometimes hate. Most times, comfort supersedes love. I am sure if I know someone too well, I wouldn’t love them and hence I feel it’s better to not know everyone completely, because then I just know that no one, even me, is worthy of receiving the thing called flawless love; because you know, there is no such thing.”  

He tapped his snuffbox, and administered a nice fat pinch. He looked at her and she looked perplexed.

“Don’t worry. Even I don’t understand this sometimes. All I know is, this is the way it is.” 

Bullies

Bullies. You’ll find them anywhere and everywhere. They come in different age groups, forms and will encounter you at different places – at work, at a gathering, and at other places where you’re forced right into a situation with them. They will tease you, poke fun at you, and make you feel less belonged to any place just because of their own insecurities or their idea of ‘fun.’ They’ll be high maintenance in every aspect in their own circle, demanding instead of requesting, arguing instead of understanding and imposing instead of getting a perspective – and most of all, they’ll be ridiculously unfair.

Two or more bullies sometimes form a pact and try to target one individual after standing on a pedestal of self-imposed illusion of what they might say ‘attitude’. Now, I am not interested in writing about what makes them so. That’s psychiatry. And that’s not on what I am delving in here. There have been so many reported suicide cases due to ragging that I cannot count. Just google on it and check for yourself. And those which are not reported, the large majority, and those who don’t fall in the extremes, are always living in constant fear of them and live a much suffocated life.

Bullies feed on the timidity and decency of their victims through their senseless idea of fun or a fuel to their taken-for-granted attitude. Sometimes their humor is labeled as ‘harmless fun’ when confronted or questioned, or they’ll just shrug it off and push it more – just because they can.

I was a very timid child during my school days, and that carried on during my entire adolescence and yes, during my adulthood which is not very much in the past. I couldn’t say ‘no’, would fall prey to the fear the bullies created that they will do some harm in my usual course of life – and mind you, and I was afraid. Very afraid. But after understanding their psychology and deep diving into their personas, I see that it is not tough to confront them.

To all who can relate to this in the form of a victim, my thoughts go out to you. If you think someone can help you, talk it out with someone you truly trust. There is no self-worth in being quiet or ‘taking it’ all the time. There is no decency in letting people dominate you in the wrong way. There is no calm useful to your mind which creates an unrest within your soul. Stand up and stand strong. Beat their arrogance by knowledge and logic, their harshness by maturity, their persistence with your force. All I can say is, they’re really not that important. The moment you stop giving them what they crave for, they die like vampires would die without blood. So, don’t feed them your fear.

So - Strategize. Confront. And take the stand which is rightly yours.  

Karma? Who are you?

Let us think about Karma for a moment – and its psychological and actual effect in our lives. I always think that it is a force of nature which unveils itself – sometimes suddenly, sometimes it takes its time. When people think about Karma, mostly people think in the way of – do good, good will come back; and do bad, it will come back too. But somehow I don’t really think that’s how Karma works. 

Karma has a personality, (and in fact it has multiple personalities which are in ORDER) I think, if you believe it or not. Some people think they can set off their bad deeds with good deeds. I know right now, while I am laughing at this ideology, Karma is sitting beside me in a rocking chair and having a pipe, giving me that sly smile – because it knows I understand it. Look here people – Karma isn’t a child that you can give a candy or a toy and make it believe something you want it to, or even something you believe. Karma has sharp eyes, a sharper vision and a killer attention to detail. So know this now (and I know for some of you it comes as a bad news) – bad karma cannot be and will not ever be set off by good karma. 

Zonked? Wondering whether I am high? I certainly am not. What I mean is that bad deeds will be taken care of in their own time and will take their own might. You’ve done a bad deed? Be sure Karma is going to equate it for you. Sometimes it might be harsh, sometimes not. It is a sum combination of your guilt, regret (and if you do have such a thing as awareness) and Karma power packs it with actions in its own time and way.

Good deeds will not help in erasing your bad ones. Period. Your good deeds are most certainly, well, good in their own way – if they are not selfish. And when I mean good deeds, I don’t mean just looking after your parents, feeding the hungry, donating, charity or just being a good Samaritan or a concerned citizen. What I mean it – you must FEEL like doing it without you being selfish about what soul energy or ‘happiness’ you get. If they do set something off, they are your own soul, feelings and realizations. You do it because that is you, not because it makes you feel good. That’s selfish! Confused? Good, you should be – because Karma is not one but many personalities in one. I was confused until I found out how it operates. But then when it’s clear, I don’t think any vision is near its excellence.

So, do good or bad – and see what happens. Maybe nothing will happen, maybe something will; maybe a lot will. But I know one thing – what you feel and what you will be will change, and that, boys and girls is ultimately what matters.  

The Wisdom Tree

Whose vows am I to fill,
Which distorts my present will,
I went to seek solace and peace
In busy and crowded streets

An epiphany once I bore,
Seeking wisdom to the core;
Then I learnt what I sought,
Was in this place only bought

Mere survival though souls it kills,
Failed to dampen my utmost will;
Faithfully imprisoned until the end,
The ways were always going to bend

Thus I refuse to refute the sense,

Which fills this atmosphere dense;
I shall always in my soul be free,
Under my proverbial wisdom tree

Innovate

How was it that it came upon me?
Why would I crave to be so free?
Pondering over all the years spent;
Wondering what was the soul’s intent
Traveling round in circles it seems,
Bits of reality and chunk of dreams
The way out of this darkness is far,
Since we are stuck in hell’s reservoir
Hope, a thick cloud, faith is a dead sea
The future, something I might oversee
And then I also cannot seem to find,
A beautiful zeal, a gladness undefined
How to move something that is frozen?
Those wills, emotions, elevated notions;
When decisions are a malicious snake
With more than body and soul at stake
Yet, for now, we shall just wait,
Until the destinies decide to innovate
I wait for the arrival of those hours,
While I dig within and plant these seeds;
The raven calls, and its call overpowers
But I’ll live, for my unearthly needs

I breathe again...

After a long time, I breathe again.

Born again in a swampy, dark place. Feeling pathetic. The medium is broken, shattered; but just before being destroyed, calls out a name. And here I am. Not exactly a favourable place and time, but here nonetheless.  

The greatest fights will now begin at the darkest places. Winning may not even be in sight or possible, but one thing is inevitable – the fight. I have not given up yet.

A hand rises from the swamp, from the quicksand. I don’t know for sure whether I can prevent the drowning, but I will not give in without a fight.

Not even the faintest of lights, my eyes covered in muck – but one thing I can feel – my eyes are open. Bloodshot, cold, but open. Tired, but willing to look at the old things anew. Lost focus, but dreaming of a vision. A vision which has a very faint chance – but there is still a chance. We will fight for it, until we perish.

We will rise to surprise fate, and even if we do not win – we will make the end struggle. We will strangle it.

The smallest of fists will attempt to punch the largest of the giants. Let the storms team up. Let them gather. Let them flow. Let us show them what we know.  

Peace?

Peace? Though in fractions, I find it. I find it in not wronging the just. I find it in not being envious about the little happiness people find. I find it when I wish people well. I find it in being content that I did my best. I find it in not being jealous of someone who has something I don’t. I find it in not being vengeful. I find it in letting go. I find it, sometimes, just being silent, by myself.

Caught

Of that path was the destination unseen
Always seemed fairest it had ever been
A charming truth a soul did now crave,
Before it reached a shallow grave
What it felt and more,
made a monster within it rise,
which wishes to destroy every core
That evil lurked in stunning disguise
Threw it lifeless in parts more than two,
More damage than only one can undo,
Caught in between two sides of mine
One seeks to love, another itself hates,
It looks helplessly towards fates design,
Look on as its knife manipulates; penetrates
Each day the monster rises within,
any ruse it does not attend
Aware that if it is not let free,
It will whip till it silently bleeds; and ends

Replace

Replace it; I wish the pain,

which lightens over time, 

‘cause one that heart contained,

diminished a self of mine.

I have known from myself,

in these long, dark years, 

the eyes can never be tired,

sorrowing from some fears.

The Door

The more I close a door,
Ahead lies another still,
And seeming I cannot ignore
What it conveys, instills

When I open another one,
It again leads to you I see,
I’m lost, perturbed and outrun
and all the reasons oversee

A lonely ghost, the ghost is I
and as others just pass me by
I am desert, sand and all above
I now just crave your love

If I am to end, I’ll embrace
an end well-founded and true,
Nothing which your love can replace
Nothing more willed to pursue

The sea

Which sea shall turn within,
while all turned shallow;
while tears are marking the end of I,
and all of that truth made hollow

The veneer of immortality,
had kissed our life so fragile;
A kiss goodbye each hour of day,
never dreamed would be so agile

The witness are they all,
the rise and the fall;
Have me cornered every side,
with their hurting pride

Then the soul, weeping all alone,
Proclaimed loud it’s not a stone
The sea will always churn within,
Oblivious of the storms it brings

A trace of mine

I don’t know what clouds stand gathering,
Which stare down upon me now
I could not earlier bear, stand suffering
but now, I’m forced to welcome it somehow

My imagination painted the beginning,
of what seemed like an eternal heaven
Ignorant that I was already given up,
before the months finished numbered seven

And amidst most of these memories,
of which I don't know use;
perplexed whether I can rely on them,
to chase some shady hues

But I know the flavor of fading now,
Diminishing just doesn’t come to me
What trace of mine will fate allow;
A part which grows, such even I cannot see

The Tree

What is it about this tree,
Which keeps me enchanted this night
Something within it is not so free,
That I think of its unknown plight

So many passerby’s beneath its leaves,
have shelter when needed taken;
and the tree stands, and believes,
That they have love for it awaken

Also when they spoke to it,
As if it was their most loved claim;
And while leaving it alone again, admit,
and etch forever their lover’s name

Yes, stand beneath, don’t take me home
The tree didn’t say, but felt it forever
I long you to stay, forbidden wish overgrown
And I know you’ll be with me never

Time has gone, and the tree stood still
To blossom or not, not per its will
I now know what enchanted, now I see
The tree stood there, reminding I of me

The heart must now begin to stand

Beginning whole, to every last strand,
the heart must now begin to stand
An endeavor to resurrect into any form;
perplexed to fathom, was this its last storm

Will the soul lose in this conquest,
Or will it turn or burn or decay
The heart disbelieves this very concept;
a lot leaps to surround from yesterday

Looking at the depths down below,
the color the shade of cold snow
The heart wouldn’t know, it was young;
afraid to linger in hope, afraid to be stung

And now when it foresees truth in a way;
It must learn, despite its dismay
Of why leaning on it can be so hard,
denying obviousness can leave it scarred

To survive alone or to crumble like sand,
The heart must now begin to stand

Its greatest divide

That was achieved in that clueless state,
was premeditated and yet was sought to fight
I would laugh sometimes, upon impaired fate
Cutting its own wings, as it took its flight

The heart never sought this throbbing preference,
What I would withhold, and what I could confide
Despite hours of omitted reason and enduring severance,
This spirit will still be seeking its greatest divide

Time and I

For every moment I dare to seize,
Another arises to break its spell
The time which brings me to my knees
Time was brutal, it knew it well

Who am I to comprehend at once;
What stole us away in tons
And even though I tried its test
Time always claimed whats best

I try to prevent, as I fall;
But time also just knew it all
The universe makes us meet each day,
From memories such I cannot say

Time still didn’t stop at that;
it arose, a demon in my habitat
Told me reasons, sane, it seems;
as it crushed my every dream

But I still stand, with equal hope,
Filled with more than I can cope
I reject all that time suggests
And enter the lair of these quests

My true rising

For nights, I pondered what kept me awake
Before I knew this just wasn’t for any sake
It dawned upon a realization hard to master
In this world so artificial and full of plaster
In your eyes, I saw what was so recalling;
Tried in vain and in your love I keep falling
As we started walking, gathering sand and roses,
You gave me more than what fate supposes
And then I knew what I had always missed;
was the sweetness of your very charming kiss
And when I looked back, of how must I was lost,
Despite I would perish, I would pay to fate any cost
The strength I found, not from temples or churches
I realize that as this craving slowly emerges
I will love you to the end of my diminishing trace,
and wait for your touch, that warm embrace
As others seek fame, possessions, those things and all
I realize my true rising always lay in this fall

An unknown source

As intoxicated I lay, losing some strength;
Longing just a word, my wish knew its length
Beginning to walk upon an undrawn path,
Knowing nothing of consequences and its aftermath

I felt so dependent on some will,
Which turned to me and asked me still,
I seek no refuge within these fears,
Which defined me as well, through these years

Beneath this smiling, laughing face, I wear,
An unknown evil for me to bear;
Looked no further, just another burning flame
but to us now it looked all the same

The sparks always attempted to fall beyond
That place which was with cold, wetness bound
Some thoughts did tangled me within,
And always tore away the healthy sin

A sword beside; and from fate, a relentless frown,
Though always attempts to turn me down;
And in dwells this mind full of mysteries I know,
Which killed a waking presence long ago

Though as I stand at this arch of stone;
freezing, shivering, aching to every bone
Heights it reached of some burning desire,
the last attempts to fight the volcano with fire

It is not lost, not found, neither in any power;
The longest wait is the last minute of the hour
Beaten down to its mistakenly subtle force,
All within, just within, was its unknown source

Bit by bit

As lost, unstructured, battered and hopeless I feel about some of the things not falling at place – I also feel something else. I cannot define what this is, but it is just there – neither a force I could define, neither something which forms my stronger side. All I know is that is not a bad or a good side, or a wrong or a right; this is just something which keeps dying and resurrecting. In one small human life of billions and trillions of others who have passed their living and dying on this very earth, there is something which beats other than a heart. What beats within, I do not know. What I do know is that this refuses to die. This refuses to compromise, to accept defeat, to give up or strive for lesser. I have not even a hint of predictability skills to gauge what will happen next, and neither do I know whether these millions attempts will take me to success. I do not know if these trials do carry the weight to my freedom, or to whatever I know of satisfying this restless soul.

Courageous resolves are not an overnight phenomenon. The goals might not be as dreamy as they seemed, when you achieve them. The world worthy to live those dreams might perish bit by bit. The hopes might be extinguished each time they’re kindled. Failure may laugh at your face, and the world may seem like taking itself and you a peg lower each day. Yet, I will wait for those nights where my mind is not dominated by thought, but only one thing – courage. As mysterious the dawn is, hence I do not know whether it will come – but I stand here – waiting until I perish. I will get up tomorrow, and move. Even if it’s an inch and even if the circumstances throw me a hundred steps behind – I will move – bit by bit.

The frustrated in-between; the unknown beginning

Security - I don't know if its a good thing.

As I write this, I am almost mentally kicking myself of how much time I have wasted thinking if security is an essential in life. I am working my way through a 'normal' life - job and all, weekends spent lazying, city, traffic, earnings, savings, investments, et al. Meeting some people, some emotionally connected phone calls, some pure 'blah.'

But today, just today, looking at a piece of paper made me think - how secure am I really? In a world where anyone and anything can shuffle my cards - what can I measure my security by? By how much money I have or save? By my purchasing power? By how my family and friends are; and how they will be with me? By giving a thought if I am or not (or should be) in a stable relationship? By how much knowledge I have, and how much is going to 'cash me in?' By what measures people think I am secure / settled? By what measures I can keep the others happy, or do "good" to the world?

The voice within me lurked at me at me at first, and then burst out laughing. "Nothing is secure!" it said. "Nothing is secure, unless you are 'living.' 

It is true, I guess. It can be all, some of the above - or none of the above. It is just what makes you truly happy (and not what you are programmed to think that should make you truly happy)

I know it has been long that I wish to break the handcuffs from this life in which I am thrown into (though I am grateful for quite some aspects of it, seriously!) a great unknown pit - which others seem to know so very fucking well.

I realized today that I took many many things for granted. One of them - and one of the most important one - is my urge to write. I took it for granted that how for 25 years, I dreaded reading alone - and here I am, wanting to just write.I took it for granted that without being a reader, I have the urge to write fiction, and the itch to etch stories - to tell the tales which I wish to be my first reader of. I took it for granted that I have it in me to take a stride and have the will to be on my own. I took it for granted that people who put me down at all points in life were failures in some way in their own life and emotional quotients - a sad kind of lame thinking - and that I knew much more than them, all the time. I took it for granted that I have the inseparable spirit to wake up to my mistakes and admit them - the spirit to change and adapt, and not sink in the quicksand of some warped kind of constancy which is mistaken for virtue.

So - what would it require? I don't exactly know. But I surely know of what it won't require. My journey hence is just going to be trying to avoid the unnecessary to the truest extent possible - at least for beginning it.

So, there have to be decisions now. Tough decisions. Decisions which make me dubious of my own existence. Decisions which seem too large - too much to handle (but I am 'normal' 'selfish' 'chauvinist' and a 'complete failure at making anyone happy' - the nasty critic who dwells within me says). And those decisions are not on display, but rather to be taken more than a mere resolve.  And honestly, I don't care who is with me and who isn't. In fact, I wish to take this journey on my own. I wish to stand on my own feet - or die.

People are going to have issues with this change. But I can't help it. I have a life to live; I have a life to fight for, and not give in; to achieve what I aspire - or die in the process - and make it secure.   

The haze

Yes, it is possible that you change to someone else and see yourself as another.

Numb – A word of which I am somehow getting to feel the meaning of. Storms are not necessarily born out of situations, but may sometimes be born of a pattern as well. It is pretty wonky for me as well (as I trust must be for you) to associate the words numb and storm together. The first few hits, you just don’t get it. There comes a time when it seems time is just pulling you away and slowing you down.

I wonder most times why is it so tough for humans to accept the fact that they change; and change much more than they anticipated. This is because somehow change is somehow also notionally attached to the concept of character.

Yes, this is a change in persona, and it has been a rollercoaster ride. I don’t pretty much say this being full of pride or anything. I thought it was over after a round, but it seems the ride owner feels like sending me for an extra trip. I hope it stops sometime.

I inspired to be a fiction writer and it is precisely before 4 years I dared this thought into my system. I write quite a bit, but most of it is just thoughts. It has been around 2 years since I have written any fiction at all. I had some spurts of enthusiasm which made me jot down a few lines, and then – boom! An empty cloud just came and attacked that part of which was a storyteller. Somehow, subconsciously, I let the other life affect me (whatever the other life had to offer). It’s like having hazy mirrors all around you, and making you seem unfamiliar.    

I wasn’t the IQ sort of person (and am not pretty much now as well) and I didn’t have many ‘dreams’ or ‘ambitions.’ I honestly don’t understand this concept too much. But amongst all the highs and lows, one thing which caught my interest was writing. As to how words form on the blank page. I found it the most beautiful medium capable of the best telepathic ability which is not restricted to anything at all (not even the king of destinies – time).

At this juncture, I really need to figure out how this will turn out. Somehow the creative centre of mine is not only sleeping, but I think it has gone away. All I can do now is wait.

This post is not to make a point. A man like me is not pretty good with such things. I thought I might figure out something’s as I came to the blank page, but for now, I can just wait until the haze clears.

The voice

There was a time when tides were high

And drowned I was in its deluge

The present didn’t have much to magnify

The future was always there with its refuge

Whether I tried or didn’t try hard enough

There was a voice, and that was me

It came to rescue and it came tough

Some wisdom that would set me free

It kept me noble, it kept me strong,

When times seemed they would on me prey

Something to hold on forever so long

And I felt it wouldn’t ever betray

In times, genuine and classically veneered

Some questions which never ever appeared

When would times hit me so strange?

That I would be plagued by constant change

The voice no longer talks to me
I’ve been searching for it in vain
Perplexed it is to some degree
Is this nothingness, or is this pain

Visions - they dart in my path to and fro

Each ready with a fanatical sign

I said to them, not quite long ago

That nothing is anyone’s, and nothing is mine.

All that I find in wilderness and wood

To walk the miles, whether I should

To what is will and what is desire

Can’t take much than my heart can acquire

The visions in the mirror are now unclear

As I’m trailing behind of who I am
It seems too much distance to cover
The dismay of belonging to a mindless clan

So where is that voice, disappeared somehow

I still search for it in vain
I search for it here and forever now

And await something pleasantly insane

I run

I run, away from those views,
Which make the sunsets seem like joy.
Much to repel under its blues;
Seeking to find, then to destroy.
I might chase the dreams
and the future so very unknown;
Despite the natures hideous schemes.
The likelihood of some darkness shown
Because every light has its dark side;
And every dark side most times is nothing
Too much to take within long strides,
Decisions in the present, overwhelming
Much seems like there is to abide
Much seems like I shouldn’t
And why I shall everything provide
At a time I just could, or I just couldn’t
And now when the heart and mind divide,
Conviction, wanted but shall be devoid  
A feeling so mortal, which makes me now
Persistently, yet so rare, it does seldom allow
Now ready to face my adored adversary,
I wish to now fill myself with silence
The stillness right now, constant ancillary;
 To a being craving for some inane guidance.
I run, away with those fickle views,
Which make the sunsets seem like joy.

A story lost, a story found

The stealing had been done
But I walked endless miles
Every restless duty shunned
And donned spurious smiles

I call out your name always, forever
Drifting thoughts of you
Even silence hears them mild
In the city, and the wild

Can nothingness be felt?
Was a query before me
Could all intentions be spelt?
Feelings in a never ending spree

Then it so arrived, an awakening
which slumbered all these years
why do we let these times distance?
why do we give in to our fears?

A dew shining amidst the grass
Taught me what I seldom learnt before
Each come upon their own fate
Some have less time, some have more

I breathe my own mythologies
and some are the ones borrowed
Sometimes, we wore it in a guise
And yet, saw it in our eyes

Our poetry, dancing on the shore
As we knock yet another door
A story was lost, a story was found
The clock mesmerizingly wound

I sang to this starved, hungry ocean
a sea of your dearth, distant corrosion
To see ourselves sovereign of us
And deny the learning superfluous

Not limited by these poor rhymes
Sifting the perplexity of all the times
Our cravings must not now burn and beat
but live to see it form new feet

Why curtains be drawn upon such nights,
strangled in a silence of wrong and right
Let the tamed wilderness cry out loud
The fertile secret between us proud

And how the vague love gave in such
Shall be written, on immortal pages
The divine beauty of such touch
Freedom from designed solitary cages

And our being itself being nothing
It matters just who it be
Of generous things, we give ourselves
In this speck of life, we envisage a sea 

The most fragile things I know

The silence is so confused, but delighted,
because my hope awakens with your smiles
does your soul along with me, ignited,
wait to walk towards the timeless miles

I do not have the precision; you seek from me
for entering your belief, and your pathway
But it seems like two souls were waiting to see
How much can distance by the years weigh

I know souls speak a delicate language,
Which few mortals hear, see, dance in bliss
If not our dream at indecisions peril salvage,
Heavens would cry out our names, and weep

I wish I had the magic, to steal you from you
And make our fate, in its own heaven shine
Amidst this world of stone, something true
A place where nothing but hearts are inclined

Feel it; on a day unknown, I just placed my heart;
placed my heart in your hand, all yours to keep,
with dreams within it, truly mine to impart;
A mountain, undying, and so very steep.

A sin it seems, as I silence my expression;
None of these flowers I would choose to mow.
And now, since it lays at your discretion;
Our hearts in your hand, the most fragile things I know.

So remember, whenever you look ahead,
Don’t let anything unspoken be misread;
And walk well, come to me, don’t retreat;
‘cause I’ve laid down my heart at your feet.

Why the distance so near?

The dearth of a bonding,
alive, yet why so seasoned
when destiny runs absconding
’cause the roots infected by reason
Does something which flows in abundance
Always has to be somehow shunned?
I know it is meant in silence
Where the unfulfilled promise runs
Gratitude for the un-spelt spells
I eternally dream to bathe in its glory
But the same, when ignorance dwells
The time always tells that craving story
Why is it designed such that every step,
Now I ever take towards only you
is counted as an insignificant speck
And all the flowers then growing, overdue;
My calm doesn’t belong here
In this hellish place of reasoned noise
Why is it that distance is so near?
where cowardice made its venomous poise
And the hope then teases, hide and seek
Unknown trepidation so loudly within you speaks
Time sometimes gets its victims, like me and you
But the tides always hit the shore
Nevertheless it is meant to crave and drown
In just the hostile sense of our amour
This age can wake up, alive, screaming
But it is denied, none more goes to flower
Though unresolved intentions, the tides know well
That not all times, they bless and shower
Breaking the neck of this heavenly impulse
Explicit that the mayhem is all in mind
The heart though breaks, and shatters
Every piece of mine refused to play blind
What beats within is not the heart itself
Where these reasons the soul gives still
Does it have to go through this loud silence?
Does it require me to consent to such sin?
I don’t know what is it that grows,
under the rule and times of superfluous quandaries
And should I allow myself to be broken,
distancing myself, confined by your boundaries

Dialogues from the movie Sucker Punch

Whatever people have thought this movie is, or is not – I loved it. I gauge movies on many parameters. The reason why I loved this movie is the dialogues and quotes denoting life, strength, hope, perseverance and courage said all though the movie. Even if you don’t watch the movie, have a read.

These sentences, if focused, can change the way you think. Remember, there might be one word, one sentence, or a paragraph or a book which, if focused on, can change your life. Words are truly important.

 “I want you to just relax, feel the music, open your heart to it, let it in; and when you’re ready – I want you to dance.”

“If you do not dance, you have no purpose. And we don’t keep things here that have no purpose. You see – your fight for survival, starts right now. You don’t want to be judged, you won’t be. You don’t think you’re strong enough – you are! You’re afraid. Don’t be. You have all the weapons you need. Now fight!”

“The core strength and tools we need to fight for the life we want is to be found within.”

“‘If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.”

“For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.”

“You can deny angels exist, convince ourselves they can’t be real. But they show up anyway, at strange places and at strange times. They can speak through any character we can imagine. They’ll shout through demons if they have to. Daring us, challenging us to fight.”

“You’re afraid. Don’t be. To reach your own paradise, just let go. What you’re imagining right now… you control this world.”

“Begin your journey. It will set you free.”

Listen. Believe. Feel.

Only feelings may be hazy, or mistaken to be transient. Only signs may be discounted as being coincidences. But when signs and feelings come like a consistent combined loving thunderbolt – it is something of heavenly impact. What should you do? Get impacted. ~ Marcus Hades

It is wise to listen to two entities.  Your Mother when an adolescent; and Mother Nature when you're an adult. ~ Marcus Hades

Pursuant somewhat to what I wrote on Coincidence, I didn’t want things to be too dense. I don’t know if I am the authority to speak on many things, but I choose to. I don’t think I have all the time to live by others logics a lot, when there is such a vast store of learning and thinking happening constantly within me. Since adolescence my family knows me to think differently. Perhaps most might think I’m crazy – and if you do, don’t worry, you won’t be the first. But I think that when a man thinks of penning down his version of the truth – his days of existence as a consenting member of Society are numbered anyway.

Do you remember the first time you went to school? Do you remember when they taught you A,B,C? Did you know what they meant before you read them and were explained what they connoted? How they could form into words and create sentences, poetry and stories? 

Exactly!

Such is the nature of our habitat. We cannot understand first time what we don’t know the meaning of. I might give countless examples for this, but I think you get my point. In the same way, we must have heard about signs, serendipity and words like that – but never experienced it before. It might also happen that we might be so caught up in a world in which we are constantly ‘willing’ in our routine, that these signs might just pass us by. I am just lucky I at least read the signs. In my life, in a particular significant path, they have occurred for the first time.

I know of one thing is that I respect whatever is worthy of respect, and Mother Nature is a large entity. I’m just one of those who are following what she is providing to me. Perhaps we cannot get over complaining and brooding over what is or went wrong and hence we don’t open ourselves to what is meant for us to actually live a successful life. 

Everyone has a threshold of courage, foresight and vision and there are countless examples of people who have been the designers of their own destinies; the captain and crew of their own ships. They know that action is the sole way of succeeding, and through those actions comes true living. But for such action, there has to be a birth of a resolve, a focus and a commitment. And that ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, that is born out of signs. I don't know if you know what I mean, but right now, I am finding barely the words to describe it - since, like I said, it is A, B, C for me. 

All I can understand is that it is something that touches not only your heart and mind, but also your soul. A commitment you have to make to yourself is that you will do whatever it takes. A courage which has to be the strongest force you know in yourself, which can be born out of a resolve or love. And having said that, courage, mostly has to be built (and is rarely born on its own) for something that matters to your soul.

People must have spent their lives trying to understand what the true purpose of life is. Some writers have even written beautifully to cover this aspect. Though their views are nothing I am against as everyone has a right to a view, I wish to summarize my little bit of what the purpose of life is in just a few words, as I understand my time is critical actually understanding and following it, and yours is precious for action, rather than only reading about it. Here it is – 

I think the purpose of life is finding the balance and finding out what are the things you (a) have to do and (b) what you feel like doing, to lead the life you wish. For the former, we have to do many things which are required to be done. They may be things done out of a lot of effort, requiring detachment from emotions. I am not interested much in talking about that, since that is what everyone must do respectively as to how they are placed or come to be placed in life.

What I am interested in is how Mother Nature gives us the signs amidst our common lives, and how somethings just happen which stir our soul and makes us realize that we are here for only one thing - true happiness. The word 'Serendipity' was a word which I had an idea of – but now I believe I know what it is. I think I can feel it. If you listen closely to Mother Nature, or have done that already, you will know what I am talking about. And then, when that happens to you, don't turn away and get stuck in logics. Face it. It is meant for you. It is a gift, as I said. And Mother Nature doesn't bless all with them. 

Logical issues in life can be concluded by the mind as well, but the mind alone is rarely capable of making decisions which can make your soul feel worthy of a life. And a worthy life is not only lived for the self, but for those who you love, and for those who matter to you.

Why do I think this way? I wouldn't want to end up thinking towards the end of my life that I didn't listen to Her when she wished to guide me – and how my life could have changed. A life which would most importantly affect the soul in innumerable blessed ways - because according to me, that is all that counts. The successful people are those who realize and achieve their purpose. Those who listen to what She says JUST ONCE (I believe she has many doors to knock, and I'm unsure whether she has the time to knock your door again), and then listen to their heart and soul conjointly. What exists in the mind is just details. I used to think this, and promised myself I would listen to her if and when it happens. And now, she is talking to me, knocking at my door. At least I will do my calling from Her until death. 

Think for a while. Have you? Will you?

What are coincidences?

Listen to it. Can you? May be for the first time in your life. But there is a lot of divine silence if you really listen. ~ Marcus Hades

What is it really? Words are just a medium, but can everything really be expressed? What people call coincidence, or write it off as ‘just happens to be’ may not be what we think about.

I am just an average ordinary bloke, but recently I have seen something’s happen – things which never happened before, and it somehow just doesn’t feel like coincidence. What pulls me towards the source of the so-called coincidence is some kind of divine silence. The silence talks to me and just refuses to use the logical approach and write it off as something which is just misread.

No. It’s not misread at all. I am sure of it. Sometimes, I think I have found my destiny in the respect of which it matters, and suddenly all of my life makes sense. I just hope that this is felt by the source as well. I think some people and situations are just meant to complete each other. And that is serendipity - and not coincidence.

I would like to share with all of you that everything does not need to make sense in the strict meaning of our terms. There are things which are unknown and which are hidden for years. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps because the time wasn’t right anytime else, and it wasn’t just meant to be then. But it is meant to be now. 

Mother Nature is kind and shows us the path ONCE - just once. But again, do we really listen?

I am still new to this journey, but yes, I do understand that something is happening. For now, I can just wish.

From Novice to Novelist - a guest blog post by Michele Shaw

Dear Reader,

It is indeed my privilege to have my first guest post from a good friend and a writer who has pretty much been there, done that when it comes to writing fiction. If you want to write a novel, and are a beginner - this post could change your approach and be one of the most important you've read.

I would like to briefly intoduce Michele Shaw who tweets by the handle @veertothewrite

He Bio says - Author represented by Karen Grencik of Red Fox Literary. I write YA, horror, and short stories. I may bust out a poem on a whim.

Trust me, that says too little about her, and you have to visit her on http://micheleshaw.blogspot.com/

This is what Michele has to say about going from Novice to Novelist.

- Marcus

x-x-x-x

Writing a novel is a daunting task, but one any writer with the passion, drive, and determination necessary can accomplish. Now, writing a good novel? That takes practice and a bit more stamina, not to mention voice, the ability to carry a story with conflict and tension, and bringing it to a logical end without everything falling apart. Writing a great novel? Yikes, you need all of the above plus talent. Oodles of it.

Getting any novel published and into the hands of readers has its own challenges, but none of them matter if you don't: Write. The. Book. Here are some things I'd like to share as reminders to help you get started:

* Know the basics of grammar and punctuation. No one is perfect, but brush up. You'll save yourself a lot of time down the line if there's less to fix. I make mistakes all the time (probably even in this post), but I’m always learning and it’s getting easier.

* If you want to write for fun only, by all means, do! But, if you plan on getting ANY kind of writing published, consider taking a class that includes group critiques. You really need to know if you have the stomach for criticism, because it will come, and there will be times when it's not pretty. Many times. Classes that offer feedback can give you a glimpse into what you're in for, and you aren't tied to a permanent critique partner or group at that point. Also, you can practice your writing, learn, and make writer friends. All good things.

* Write what you like. Don't write what's hot at the moment, what your mother wants you to write, or what seems "easy." Write what gets you excited to sit in front of that keyboard, what keeps your mind churning when you try to sleep, what comes from your heart. Everything else is a waste of time, and it will show in the writing. Read extensively and think about what you liked in those books. That can guide your interest in writing.

*Revise carefully. When you receive feedback, read it, but know you aren't bound to those suggestions. If they are great and you see big improvements in your story, go for it. But, there will be times when you just don't agree, and THAT'S OKAY! Be grateful for the feedback, but selective with what you use.

*Develop your own approach and know that what works for you is the only "right" way. Write at the time of day that works, in the location that distracts you least or inspires you most. Plot if that's what gets you going, pants if you have to start writing to start writing. Don't expect to have your approach all figured out in a day, either. It takes trial and error, and most of all, time.

* Know going in that your first draft will probably be a mess. You should still try to do your best, and it should have a good foundation, but know that revisions, editing, possibly even rewriting are in your future after you hit "The End."

*Finally, just do it. Stop talking about writing, tweeting about writing, reading articles, and whining about how you don't have enough time. You'll never finish if you don't start. Now...go!

written by Michele Shaw

Not at all...

Does the voice in you,
Touch, and cry to you.
The never taken path, but yet found.

Through the obscure broken visions,

Of your untouched reality.

Fire within, yet cold outside;
Unsettling icicles form the path of my breath.
Moving to be a master of nothingness.
And what is created;

Is exorbitant, free, unwound, alive.

Your darkening eyes around whats bright
And the shallow depths of what made those things
Here, nothing is duty, rightly more, a call

Envision not a clearer sky,

But a sky not at all

The dawn would break...

In the highest destinations,
the moon shines well
In the luminous skies of hearts,
the stars cast enthralling spells

Summoned to glory,
and the stony prisons;
fate trapped itself,
in immense reasons

All the long wings,
clearly broken in the nest;
an essence to restore,
none would now rest

In all the floods,
a monstrous thunder clap;
sighting the eternal,
and a never ending nap

Mirrors reflect gaze of strangers;
Unholy all brooks and shrines;
All the reasons, impetuous seasons,
could not compel time to define

Madness made sense,
to falter was to abide;
Though it was a throbbing edge,
harmony with it was tied

All the time, just flew by;
the horizon never touched the sky
Freedom lurked in luminous visions,
all the threats, some charming treasons

Looking towards the bridal day,
knowing it would never come
hope seemed a crazy indulgence,
nothing left to overcome

Despite none favoured,
nothing could bring it down;
a resolve so mighty,
it just wouldn’t drown

The dawn would break,
and the meadows would be near;
though fortune seldom eavesdrops,
even lesser does it appear

What shall be my way?

I wonder if it should twinge to love this way,
this isn’t something I had to try
If I would have a choice to ignore and let go,
I would so much rather die
The ways of things are strange and narrow,
and it tries to push me more in obscurity
But I realize that it is now chosen,
though considered as a dreaded insanity

There are some ties which can’t be broken,
simply to leave them as they are
What if you felt the harmony of such light,
despite you’re near, or far

To walk this way, to learn the indications,
it wasn’t hard to tell
as I withdrew, it only grew,
a forever self replenishing well

I just hold on to the ledge of hope,
and grow stronger with each passing day
If you loved me at any point in time,
Can you tell me, what shall be my way?