My 100th post

Being my 100th post, I thought I should share something which I feel I have learnt until this stage in my life... they are more, but I thought I can share this to all of you for now

Until now, in my lifetime, I have learnt that…

• Loving someone doesn't always depend on reciprocation

• The best way of finding help is self-help

• When you fall, the only person that can pick you up the best is yourself

• During your darkest times, the only shoulder to cry on will be your own

• People will leave you when you feel that you need them the most

• Suffering through your toughest times will change you… but it’s entirely your decision what it changes you into

• If you are mentally strong, you are expected to be strong at all junctures in your life…

• Love is lasting for a few; hatred dissolves for a few

• On Health: The ones, who live like a saint, suffer the most

• When you reach the highest altitude of an emotion, the subject of the emotion alters

• On Karma: The ones meant to die always outlive the ones that are meant to live

• However bad your situation; someone, somewhere is suffering more than you

• You will always take for granted something until it is lost

• Ignorance can cost you much more than it appears

• Though it seems like a sea, there is never enough of time

• The ones whom you care about the least, may understand you the most

• However empathetic you are, you can never understand completely what another is feeling

• We have one life, yet we live with past effects, act carelessly in our present, and blame our destiny when our future becomes our present

The Atheist

It was going to be fun. Maybe. But it was also going to be boring henceforth. Routine life back at home, away from the University hostel seemed like a new life now, never anticipated; and the thought of getting back home – a new definition of freedom. The examinations were just done a week back. It was going to be her last day at the university. Also, it was going to be the last night with her roommates. They would return after the farewell function; some drunk and dimwitted and indecent. However, Megan was also happy for two reasons. One reason was that she was going to get home to her mom and dad. She was going to get back her room, her childhood friends and homemade apple pie. Second, she would get rid of all the boring lectures and lecturers, and was now eager to get into the world. A world which she was about to carve for herself. The world of architecture; which she was always interested in. After all, she had put in the years and her dad had put in the money. Anticipation of a pleasant future always made the patience in the present possible.

Megan and Sarah were childhood pals and Megan was the shy one. Sarah was always the one who strained Megan into drinking; and even smoking; also smoking pot sometimes. Megan was shy. Having no affairs and aged twenty two, she felt she was an alien; but she was unsure if she was happy or not. The prince charming watery fundamentals were still fixed in her mind, and she was happy just hoping for it. She somehow didn’t face reality the way it was. Hence she wasn’t sure, if her happiness – or dismay – was real.

The girls had bought dresses from the town a week back for the night. Sarah got herself the most neckline revealing dress which Megan had only seen in movies on actresses who always were in the news for their promiscuity. Megan hadn’t bought herself anything special. She just bought some artificial jewels to complement her frock, with some frills. Sarah, being what she was, thought it was too uninteresting, but she knew Megan wouldn’t budge on her idea about dressing sense. Anyways, all that was important was the night out. The girls and the guys night out – together.

The farewell was prearranged at a place known as THE WAY INN. The University being a standalone facility in the countryside of Rusthall; the only place for recreation – pool, beer and some music – for the locals, and the students of the University of the Third Age. Between the University and the Way Inn, was a stretch of road sided by trees and open land area and the distance between them was roughly a kilometer. The University would pick them up and drop them as and when a batch of ten students was ready.

The girls started dressing around at 6 PM and finished by 8 PM. No – 8:30 PM. Megan spent an hour and a half reading a book (the no-make-up-girl she was), until all the girls were done and then they boarded the bus together. Somehow Megan wasn’t so comfortable going, but since Sarah was with her, and so were the other girls, she felt alright. Jenny was the nerdy girl in the roommate group, who would laugh the next day if she heard a joke today. Megan somehow liked her, but always refrained from talking to her at length. This was because, according to the other girls, she was weird. Well, today was different and Megan sat beside her in the bus and they exchanged numbers in the brief journey. She didn’t care what the other girls thought – as they wouldn’t be there to nag the hell out of her tomorrow anyway. They reached the Inn at 8:55 PM and the sound and slight thumping of the music from the loud jukebox was resonant till the exit. Somehow this music was a little uncomfortable to Jenny and Megan, but they kept on that smile – to fit in. It was a full moon night - and the boys and girls felt like wolves, it seemed.

The girls reached there; and the boys were already waiting. There were couples, stags and some silly guys who hoped that they would get lucky. Megan stayed with Sarah, and included Jenny in the gang. Sarah headed straight to the bar and dragged the girls along; ordered a tequila. Megan and Jenny ordered for an orange juice each. Jenny looked ravishing for a change today; and the girls hummed to the music. ‘Summer of ’69’. Clichéd, but good to listen to once in a while. The guys were eager to make themselves visible to the girls now, and the party was getting started.

Mark – the University hunk eyed Sarah in a very naughty and flirtatious way. Sarah – now three shots down, was just getting warmed up by his looks. She headed to the dance floor, where Mark was now standing his ground – slightly moving his steps to the music. They started jiving together and started to dance rhythmically. Megan and Jenny just watched now as they finished their juice. The other guys were eyeing them, and they felt uncomfortable now.

“I am not feeling good,” said Jenny.
“Yeah, Jen – I understand. Ditto here.” Megan replied.
“No – I am feeling something in my head.” Jenny said in a tone which was as if she was lulling to sleep.
Megan understood once, that someone had mixed something in her drink – Sarah, the naughty one. She had claimed she would make Jenny drink once, and this was probably her prank. But Megan felt sober – no symptoms of anything unusual with her head. She was glad, but got worried for Jenny.

Jenny got up from her seat and went to the washroom. She threw up there, and Megan helped her. Megan went up to Sarah – who was now throwing herself all over Mark – and asked if she could help.
“Some lemon. Just give her some lemon. That shoul take da kic oud.” Sarah said in a tone that she didn’t want to be interrupted. She winked at Megan. Megan gave her a bad stare.
Megan didn’t know what to do. Jenny felt a little better after puking her guts out in the washroom – but she wasn’t feeling great.
“I think I will go back and hit the bed,” Jenny said, as she picked herself up from the chair on which Megan had assisted her to sit on.
“I will come with you.” Megan insisted.
“No. I am fine. Thanks Megan. It’s just a short walk. I think perhaps the fresh air and walk will make me feel better. Please stay. I will see you in the room.” Jenny said aloud so as to make each word heard; amidst the booming sounds which rang in her head. She then left.

Megan felt awful after a few minutes. She felt suffocated in the smoky atmosphere of the Inn. She felt it is better that she should go and catch up behind Jenny and accompany her to the hostel. The girl didn’t look that good, she thought. Sarah wasn’t even bothered as Megan informed her that she was leaving. In a couple of minutes, Megan was on the road, looking for Jenny. The cool zephyr made her cuddle herself as she walked.

She now saw Jenny around a hundred steps ahead. She wished to call out to her, but Jenny wasn’t that near. Megan started brisk walking now to get close to her. As Megan was catching up along the side of the road, Megan saw four shadows catch up behind Jenny. What would happen next was quickly running in her mind and every second now was much slower than a million heartbeats contained in her chest. She couldn’t help, and let out a shriek. ‘No.’

They grabbed Jenny and took her on the side of road amidst the trees like a mannequin being carried by those store boys in garment stores. Megan couldn’t see anything now, but hid behind a tree. She could hear that Jenny was silenced – she didn’t know just how, but could hear her moaning with pain. She was being raped, Megan guessed. She waited. If she went back, the guys would see her and chase her. She went blank. Soon, the voices and sounds of the struggle in the dry bushes stopped. Jenny was unconscious – and for all Megan thought she knew – dead.

Two among those men who heard Megan started to tread backwards from the fields. Megan saw them and didn’t know where to run. They were fast and agile. She regretted her decision of helping Jenny out. Mindlessly she started running towards the hostel, praying that some vehicle, somebody, anybody could just pass from there. She was afraid to look behind, but did. She saw those men chasing her; running now. Though petrified, she could now see their faces clearly illuminated from the moonlight. She ran faster, but somehow was sure they would catch up and kill her too, for she had now seen them in the act.

All of a sudden, she saw two men behind her and two in the front. She stopped, giving in to her fate. But they stopped right there and in fact hid behind the trees after a few seconds. She continued walking; confused. Why they aren’t getting me too, she thought. Silly thought. No time to think about this. Run!

She did run. And when she looked back, the men were still behind the trees. She ran until the air in her lungs burned. And then she ran some more. She reached the hostel.

Blurting the headmaster about the incident, the headmaster sent out his troop in his car – and called the cops simultaneously. The janitors, the librarian and all went to search for Jenny. They found Jenny half naked, lying on the side of some bushes. They got her and admitted her to the NHS hospital. The worst experience in life. The headmaster forced Megan to come with him to the police, since she said she had recognized the faces of two of those men. Even in this part of the modern village, the police were effective. They arrested the suspects and called Megan for an Identification Parade. They were out of State criminals who had taken place in the motel nearby. She confirmed their identity, and they were booked. All this continued until 4 AM in the morning. They headed back to the hospital, and Megan was now a little hopeful that the cops would catch the other culprits as well…

At 10 AM, the inspector who did the arrest called in Megan for detailing down the whole incident on paper. She was a witness after all – and a close escape. Her testimony would very much be held in court. She closed her emotions momentarily and went to the station with the cop. When she narrated the whole incident, the cop kept repeating the last part of the incident, where she said that they stopped chasing her and she ran away. She was sure this happened. She requested the officer to see the men once as she wanted to ask them some questions.

“Missy. Are you sure? Meaning – why do you want to talk to them?” said the cop.
“I need to know something.” Megan said, emotionlessly but still in a state of enigma.

She went towards the lock-up, her legs shaky, remembering the incident now as a close flashback, picture by picture. The men looked at her, and seemed surprised. She stood there just for a moment and then asked them, “When you could easily catch up on me and you knew I saw you; I could indentify you – you knew that. Why did you ever let me escape? I was alone. Scared. Why did you stop chasing me?”

The men were silent. They looked at each other and then laughed mildly in a grotesque way. The black man among them, looked at her, but somehow seemed to shy away from looking at her at the same time.

“I am not sure of what that was. Perhaps we drank a lot,” he said. He looked at his partner, whose eyes were now widespread with some kind of horror.

Megan was silent and in oblivion.

“Yeh, maybe we were too drunk,” said the other man, his body language suggested he had a chill down as spine as he spoke.

The cop though was not interested earlier to know, now was. He beat his baton on the bars of the lockup, as if forcing them to answer the girl.

The black man looked at the cop, and then at Megan. “When we started chasing you, you seemed alone.” He said, as he rubbed his eyes. “When you stopped, you weren’t alone. We saw almost five to seven men walking with you. And when you ran, they stood in our way. We just stood there, and then those men disappeared before our eyes – and you were out of our sight.”

Megan swore to never visit that road again. Who were they? Angels? Or maybe what she had only heard about – Ghosts. Why they didn’t save Jenny was another question which lingered her mind for years. Jenny wasn’t an atheist either. But Megan was. She still is.

More Couplets

Sunlight never touched its wings, yet it flew with all its might. From the rains, heaviness it brings; success always sought in its flight.

A few moments to mesmerize, but a fewer came to me. The trees need the rains to realize, their purpose and true destiny.

The soul parades high and mighty flew its distance in its sky; the heart shall be the almighty, to decide the years it ponders why.

Present shall never decide a future of love so encouraging; come into the woods and walk by my side, to engage in a dream so engaging.

Couplets

Hence took away this moment asking for realization of my desire, forsaken is the previous minute for this trice to acquire.

All alive can’t be absolute joy, flowers though have to be chosen. In concert shall love arise, or all the bliss is frozen.

It flew in the dark, but in the bright it waited still. Heavens knew this difference, but it had to be from his will.

Just a scribble...

Facing a writer’s block for some time and my medium just won’t allow me to enter freely. Something is stopping him. Well, I shall wait. In the meantime I thought I should address something.

My few readers ask me various questions. The questions are pretty much standard I hear every time. The question is why do I write stories based on horror, paranormal or write the ‘weird’ type of stories? Why are my poems so dark and deep? Firstly, I haven’t even started on my journey into the world of writing – I am still quite amateur – a boy; compared to many legends. I have lots and lots of distance to cover. I have only written a few short stories and almost done with just the first draft of my novel. When I read prolific authors, I get jealous reading the way they write and able to express themselves. So, I haven’t written much yet, or found what genre I actually write in. I may write horror, mystery or a beautiful love story in my journey. It can be anything. To be honest, I still haven’t been able to catch the drift of my own imagination. As for poetry, well, I believe I do not write poetry at all. They just get written. And by the way, if you look at it, there is quite some happy and light stuff in all I have written as well.

Secondly, I think I do not have any standard answer to this question, because usually my answer is ‘I truly don’t know.’ Why does anyone need to assume that I ‘choose’ specifically to write in a particular genre or type? I simply write, as the stories or the poems form in my mind. I think I do not have a choice there. I simply just write it. I am not (and never have been) an avid reader yet (but I am getting there) and I do not write getting motivated or influenced by anything around me or inside me. My life is much less or as normal than most of you folks out there. I am not mentally imbalanced (well, the people around me have never wanted me to visit a psychiatrist or a mental asylum – so I guess you must ask them – and I believe I am pretty sane person with an unbiased conscience). I just write the stories as they form from the seed of an idea, and most of them get written by themselves. In fact, I believe strongly that I am at only a fraction of my capability to expressing myself till date. I just want to get better and better - and then a little more better.

I love language and the rhythm various words can give to the blank page. It gives me the satisfaction of creation. It gives me an insight into my own self (whether I am creative or not). I look back at the things I wrote when I started writing and I sometimes think ‘gosh, how did I think that?’ Or ‘well, I still think like that.’ Fiction is fiction. I suggest readers all across don’t try and judge a writer’s personality by his stories. If they do, well, it is at their own discretion. To me, stories are stories and are meant to entertain and make the reader feel something. It may be good, beautiful, scary, bad or ugly. But whatever I try to say must be (from me) complete without any curtains – due to my constant affiliation with being truthful to others and more to myself in my writings. I write to be my first reader and to write things which I would like to read as a reader – but maybe haven’t come across yet. I know one thing for sure, I write what I write and if people like it, I am lucky.

That’s all there is, really.

Unbind

The breath which is warm, is now also cold,
The flight craves to cover distances now old
Coveted sleep for the perception unrealized;
Pleasant moments to liberate and kill the lies

Firmly are reverberating some cherished notions
From murky images of the land and the oceans
The isolated resolves which formed the past
When sacrifice essential, disappeared so fast

Furious angels are now torching one another
Not all needs to be analyzed or questioned
Resonate with the doubts I now wither further
Never empty, though my intellect repositioned

Confused, though envisage the mind full of precision
All the senseless destinations of fruitless decisions
A façade of a result beyond a realm or bound
None can expect ecstasy, when the self is not found

Butterflies sweetly sometimes around me flutter
But with the truth at hand; imaginations stutter
Sighting the sun, at a distant land beyond the sea
Drowning may be eventual; no fact to disagree

And the hand which holds firm another
Sometimes feels like caressing a feather
Also has the ability to turn, never blind
Ruthlessly shatter the glass, and also unbind

Marinela Reka - welcome as my follower

Dear Unvarying Readers,

I am glad to have Marinela Reka as my 10th follower on my official blog – actually it’s more of a privilege for me, the prodigy she is. She started writing at the age of 6! Born on 23rd April 1996, I doubt we will encounter any writer as skilled as her at such a young age. She writes poetry of all sorts and they are truly engaging. I am deeply impressed. Please visit her on http://marinelareka.com/ 

Thanks Marinela, and I look forward to your valuable comments.

Godspeed

Marcus Hades

First Sonnet - An Engaging Sacrifice

Simply put, the 'sonnet' is a form of poetry containing fourteen lines. The Shakespearean sonnet consists of three quatrains and a couplet--that is, it rhymes abab cdcd efef gg. It is usually written in iambic pentameter and I consider it the opposite of what is a free verse form of poetry; as it is so structured. This is my first attempt at writing a sonnet.


The woods being alone but yet sufficient;
Of passerby’s who numbered very few
Weather’s amend and care isn’t deficient;
To look after are merely the sun, rain and dew
The persistence tantamount to a mountain
But rarely only, it’s affected by weather
The hardest chisel or a fierce cloud fountain,
Didn’t change anything; felt like only a feather
The tourniquets now are my flesh and blood,
Probability swallowed my wounds now so open;
Seeking the kill; shallow dearth of a flower bud;
Riding along with the future sinister and undertaken
Thus when the paths are fine with dreams that entice;
Weeds of arrogance and ignorance; an engaging sacrifice

Cinquain

The Cinquain (pronounced ‘sin-cane’) also known as a quintain or quintet, is a poem or stanza composed of five lines. The best known form of cinquain poetry was created in the early 1900s by a poet named Adelaide Crapsey.

Though the cinquain has many forms and many rules have been formed and confused, I prefer to keep mine as I deem fit and which puts forth the best meaning in five lines (as in any other form of my writing), and that is because I believe meaning is more important than form.

Flowers
Though beautiful
Can be crushed
Through, while with ignorance
Ambushed

Absence
Binding pity
Felt through today
As darkness awaits this city
Fooled by yesterday

Riveting
Some feelings
Of your love
I feel like I am dreaming
Like a dove

Couplets (cluster 3)

Dark and bright; I return to everyone what is rightly due.
Like the clouds that flow everywhere; but pour rain on lands very few.

Though the wrath feeble, it knows; destroying the peace of the hours.
In absence of virtue none will grow; an essence to crush beautiful flowers.

Fire when all went through, ice at the end; and never water.
The soul always knew that it be true, ignorance it must slaughter.

To all my readers - thank you

Dear Followers and Readers,

Just thought I should write a short note to let you all know that I am honored and privileged to have you reading my blog. Many of you don’t follow me, but yet read me. You form the list of my top readers and you shall always have my undying adoration. A writer is hardly anything without his readers.

But I must admit, I would still be a writer but I wouldn’t be what I am without my Dear Reader. Maybe every writer has one dear reader – maybe not. I am just glad I have one.

I look forward to your valuable comments for my post and otherwise. Please feel free to email me on marcus.hades@gmail.com.

Thank you and Godspeed

Marcus Hades

Another layer remains...

In deep slumber I have never remained,
But rarely have I been truly explained;
But I try and find answers to the answers I get
The questions never fully rose, as I try to forget

Darkness sheds itself from under my skin,
But beneath it though another layer remains
While I am faltering and walking the line thin
Separate are my thoughts, but I sustain

As I be the sand in my hourglass of life,
Each day sometimes I fall; then turn, also rise
Failing to resurrect sometimes from the fall of precision
But earnestness is all I wish to see in the hours of decision

Untying my amour from the strings of darkness
My heart is half full of moments of abruptness
Like a bird it flies high, but now it sometimes fears
That it may be shot; not make through its years

A forgotten lore learnt in the early hours of my youth;
Despite agonizing, one must always strike me with the truth.
Because a half-truth is more preposterous than a lie;
The truth however harsh, it is always an ally.

The burden not entirely mine; but all mine as well
To be a man, I believe this is what it really takes
Disturbance within me I always wish a final farewell
But sometimes it stands, waiting at consciousness’s gates

But the skies have never been dark all the time,
Hopes that tomorrow will bring in the much needed sunlight
Chary I am, but I allocate my instincts to rule every time
I shall make it to glory, with all my established insight

More Couplets

• The weather seems confused, and the tree sheds its green leaves instead.
  Covet of the souls may be profuse, yet distance makes love for a moment misread.
  
  
• Depart I shall at an unusual altitude; pithy are my thoughts and resolves.
  Disembarked then shall be populace’s attitudes, when all their myths are dissolved.

Some Couplets

Couplets are one of the most short and beautiful forms of poetry. While I end up writing a few sometimes out of my thoughts, these are ones which I would love to share with you all. All the three are independent couplets in this post.


In love, logic though in attendance, rarely must rule; hours given to reminisce and mesmerize.
Absence – a beautiful dependence, presence – a jewel; the bond must be complete for the soul to realize.

Anxious I am in a story, longing to sleep in arms of a rose;
The thorns of feelings stain the calm glory, only the winged soul flying high knows.

Steeling the senses, seems sane the goal; rains rarely fell when they should.
Shallow renunciation I attempt for the soul, where the flowers grow partly of wood.

The Swear

Winters are harsh; summers harsher in the land
The dove of the soul rarely makes a complete stand
Petrified somewhat of such abandoned sorrow
Until the last breath, each has to see tomorrow

As the stage crawls in its tumultuous right direction,
Situations and events do not at times alter perception
Resonant voices in the woods, skies, seas and caves alike
Several downed wishing the end of sadness strike

Touched by years the soul does, but the mind never learns
Ways in which torches of an unsteady faith burns
Though in vain, brave, the creature always yearns for the sun
From all darkness, in vain it always wants away to run

Long it takes to settle the burning worry of desire
The soul always whispers; fight the water with the fire
Even the edges of a blade start to slowly rust and fade
But the swear is always within, it is never ever made

I stand, I chose

Occasionally it comes so good to be true
Sometimes it comes as a nightmare
What is all, what is everything about?
What have I got to lose, what have I to share?
The raven has knocked my door many a times
Times I have felt where I will not survive
But yet another day breaks and the sun shines
Though not the same as before, some pledges thrive
As I settle the odds with myself in the dark
A tree stands alone in the backyard with a broken bark
Survival is not what all life has been about
Hopes of a never ending assessment is always in doubt
Singing in the rains and the sunshine alike
The soul seeks refuge in the hours that strike
They strike with an unforgotten lore of togetherness
What is finally a lie, in what will it dress?
Freedom my soul feels, not bound by this in what I live,
But while I live in it, loads to give and forgive
I know now it is not my predicament to refuse,
The winds change each day but I stand, I choose

More on Love

Subconsciously it is impossible to refrain yourself from loving, however a strong conscious resolve you may make that you will not fall in love. When love dawns in your heart, it’s inexplicable. It just arrives, and the person you love becomes a part of your thoughts and plans all days and nights. Thoughts and feelings just creep in, however hard you try and resist. If you let this feeling grow, realism just being a byproduct of life, it results in lifelong love. If you resist it, it still grows inside you somewhere, creating its roots inside you – maybe unawares. The feeling of loving indefinitely almost feeling it infinitely, expressing as much as you feel and as long as you can is simply ecstatic; its magical, making your soul beautiful and alive. Though no future is certain, two people loving each other live a lifetime within a life; which may be much higher in meaning and emotions than the sum of the years in your life put together. Love cannot be measured in terms of time. It is just there. Refraining from love is refraining from accepting the very fact that you are a human with a soul and a heart. Without love, we all are just creatures who are born, live and then die.

The First Draft

As the first draft of my novel is nearing completion, I have to get up and running for re-writing and finishing the second draft in a span of two to three months. Though I may not be completely inactive, I may just have a post a week.

In the meantime, please feel free to write to me. I would be glad to answer your emails.

Godspeed,

Marcus Hades

What is Maturity really?

Though this is a topic I can write endlessly on, I choose to summarize this as briefly as I can.

Maturity is something like humility. The moment people think they have it, they self-defeat themselves. – Marcus Hades.

Maturity is not a norm, but has to be judged from both angles – the one viewpoint is of the person who is judging, and the other is of who is the executioner of the judged act, speech or thought process. I believe most mortals have an equal amount of strengths and weaknesses. Where the difference lies is what one is using to make a choice, or respond to an event – the strengths or the weaknesses. Ideally, I believe that a person who uses his/her strengths more, than he allows his/her weaknesses to dominate a resolve or opinion towards shaping his own destiny is a mature individual. As age happens to anyone, the problems and struggles in life increase and the ability to keep the focus in these situations, and not fold, is maturity.

Social interactions are often misjudged by people in anticipating maturity levels in the opposite people, as most people mask appearance, speech and behavior to hide inner strengths/weaknesses (mostly weaknesses) so as to present an uncomplicated version of oneself to the world or to portray oneself as he/she wants others to perceive.

Ways to judge if a person is mature are many, but taken only by the ones who are actually ‘mature’. These include coherent thinking and logical explanation in solving a problem, and the art of reasoning while speaking, discussing or debating. The actually immature ones will simply dismiss the opposite person's thought pattern and not understand what drives the other person. That explains quite a lot about why a generation gap exists amongst some parents and their children, and why are some parents and children so understanding and amicable.

In the mortal flow of thought processes, maturity mostly is taken to be a matter of age and experiences one has gone through. Also, the ‘mature’ person may come to think of anyone as ‘immature’, who thinks differently or does not agree to the mature person’s line of thought. Anyone who agrees to ones thought pattern is presumed as ‘mature’. I haven’t come across anyone who would say, “Hey, you think just like me. How immature we are!”

Maturity according to me is not a matter of age, but a matter of how we choose to develop our thoughts and responses flowing through life. It depends on responses and experiences which in turn are based on our value and belief systems. It is again not necessary that the responses may be constantly ‘mature’ throughout one’s life. I believe the toughest challenge is in finding the balance between the IQ and the EQ (emotional quotient) and responding in a manner which is the most feasible or reasonable (not necessarily only practically).

Maturity is not to be judged by external introspection only. It takes months or sometimes years to gauge if a person is more bent on the mature or immature side. Most importantly, the levels of interaction to gauge whether a person is mature or not, have to be personal as well. A newly found friend, a distant relative or a friendly co-worker for example can never get onto those levels. Only a determination of one's entire belief and value system (and actions based on them) can be a determinant in gauging whether a person is mature or not.

Maturity is not something which has to be persistent, but solely dependent on a set of actions and that too with a particular set of people, in a particular situation. Eg. A person may be immature in behavior when it comes to friends, acquaintances or coworkers but may be a very mature individual with family and vice-versa. Also, a person may be mature when it comes to making life’s tough decisions and always find the best possible way out of an adversity, but may be confused in small everyday decision making and may be clumsy in them. A person may also portray a very immature kind of behavioral pattern to whoever he/she interacts with, as a choice, but must be a mature person in his/her thought processes.

A few words said; I believe that a person may not be able to take 'mature' decisions at all junctures in life – because we all lose focus at different points in life when choices have to be made. Such choices are often hard. The ones who make such hard choices, who know when to take a calculated risk, who are empathetic, who think for themselves and are not influenced entirely by society, who are willing to face adversities in the pursuit of something worthy and be willing to sacrifice themselves for the ones they love or for the greater good, are mature according to me. Which situations govern thoughts at which time in life, are solely left to the person executing such thought or action.

Celebrate

Sweetly wierd and charmingly strange,
nowadays, you're all that I wish in my range
Where I can see you, touch you, speak to you
None of the lies, but all that is true
 
The moonlight is now soothing,
it is complete of your thoughts alluring
I want to feel this moonlight each night
I want you with me now, with you is my delight

I cannot contemplate what this is exactly
But I wish to analyze this more than justly
In these nights as I try and understand these ties,
I never fail to see you now in the fireflies

If a greater alliance holds our future, I am not sure,
feelings which are pure, seperation not to endure
Because when we are situate in one place,
I just cannot help myself from feeling the solace.

I shall always be there with you and nothing is barred,
Until the sea rises, or till the earth is charred
Not much I believe should be left to contemplate,
Each day we can, we shall this sentiment celebrate

My Sunrise

As I see my path getting narrow,
you enter in my heart forever
Only you within; yesterday, today and tomorrow
Deep inside I can let go of you never

I do not hurt now that we are away,
because you are always within me
I will always love you anyway;
I wonder how you cannot believe

I set you free now to your course
I’ll always love you through the years
Our next life will be our source,
of everlasting love without any tears

How can I give up loving you?
Every moment I breathe your name
I realize now my love is only true;
You are my inextinguishable flame

All I do now is wait for my sweet demise
With each passing second, closer is my sunrise
Days and nights I now wait, in a new life
When together we shall be man and wife

The Flood

Paper can be cut; mishandled it can also draw blood
Facts upon which I have never slumbered
Each answer that I found, the question backfired
Taking all within me, I now just allow it to flood

Candles lit when freezing rains pour from above;
Which drops will make their flame extinguish?
Friends we all are of our own anguish,
Foes on a barren land of a guilty but fruitful love

As the rain falls on the snow settled on the roof
Some of it melts, while some drops turn solid
It all depended on reciprocation of a silent proof
The crimson creature runs but the trees of faith remain stolid

The grinning emptiness of life always gave a stare
Some will within me hence comes ruptured
To win battles though my strength is rare
Floating desires falling, I wish to become structured

My snow-white love; my capacious passion,
Unaware absence which not much the mind can endure
Everything in the end has to be excused by being rational,
Shammed, heightened and biased; but one feels secure

Where reasons persisted, my moon eclipsed all nights
Subtle inferences on an unknown common sense halt
Immoral expectations it may seem, take such flights
Becoming less than sober; my mind forces a deterring exalt

Ashamed of mind’s shelters; dim and blistered
I shall destroy every flower when it is a bud
Each answer that I found, the question backfired
Taking all within me, I now just allow it to flood

The Purpose

Stop for a while,
hold those emotions
Learn from them, make it worthwhile
Erase from the mind all wrong notions
Become a perfect example
of someone who doesn’t break
Trials in store are ample
Which are worthy to take?
Ask yourself important questions,
but don’t dwell too long.
Time is swift; can’t sleep on contradictions;
Decide which land you belong
Freeze the unnecessary; unbury the promises;
Look for the light which shines with a purpose,
Hear the things which the heart advises
But the spirit to be allowed to impose

Iambic Pentameter

Iambic Pentameter is a way of writing poems and sentences in a particular meter with stressed and unstressed syllables. Writing a poem or a sentence this way creates a natural rhythm and makes the text more pleasurable to read and memorise. For example.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know (from Macbeth) - William Shakespeare

William used to write in Iambic Pentameter and so did quite some other poets (the reason which I believe, made them legends and their poetry, so rhythmic and classy). As per what I know now, it is very tough to write in Iambic Pentameter as they almost have fixed number of words and fixed number of stressed and unstressed syllables. Hence only a rare few poets or writers were able to write like that, and largely this method is untapped even by most prolific writers and poets.

I do not know how much time in weeks or months or years it is going to take me to learn this, but I have resolved to learn it. Why? I want my poems and sentences to sound better and have the satisfaction of learning something which only a few writers know and is difficult. Simple!

A Grander Strife

When life surpassed I didn’t know what to see,
When I was sane, I chose who to be
Now I believe my prized stillness is restored,
In this vacant and blissful state, I only imagined and adored
Whatever the end, I do not yet know,
I am in nothingness, and the love within grows
Where dearth doesn’t matter and unfailing she touches my heart,
My soul detached from me, it will never let her depart
Waking and dying on myself my core is still,
Countless formed aspirations as my consciousness kills
The affection is outlandish, unfelt and felt
The journey feels extended, and years are to be dealt
From future and mysteries told and untold,
My destiny is what I try and now unfold
Towards a greater cause and a grander strife,
I know this is what will be my life
Yet sacrifice it is not to me, truth is to accumulate
And my soul will always this joy celebrate

Destiny?

I received a comment on my post on Goals for the Soul. Though not related to the post, I choose to answer this comment as it came like a direct question to me. Here it goes -

What is destiny? What is fate?

1. When you don’t try anything and you get (something/everything/anything) (good/bad) is destiny? (Since you don’t have your contribution in trying here).

2. When you try (something/anything/everything) and you get (something/everything/anything) (good /bad) is not destiny? (Since you have your contribution here).

3. When you try (something/anything/everything) and you get (something/everything/anything) (good /bad) is destiny? (Since destiny made you try for it and you were to come across it anyways).

Last and the least perceived option

4. When you don’t try anything and you get (something/everything/anything) (good /bad) is not destiny? (Since you have your contribution in not trying here).

Is there any standard/ objective/non subjective/non relative/constant answer to this?

My response hereunder:

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for: it is a thing to be achieved. - William Jennings Bryant

Destiny is simply a combination of two things. Firstly, a sum of choices and remainders. Secondly, a sum of events, the response to them and its remainders. – Marcus Hades

The above were the shortest statements I could find in explaining your questions. Apologies, but I guess there is no standard answer to what Destiny or Fate is (as per what I think). It is an idea, and mostly a whim, as per me.

Firstly, if any good is coming anyone’s way, and if they think it is ‘good’ based on the calculations, belief and value systems – then I don’t believe the good will ever be rejected or pondered upon. If they do, I strongly think they fear paying a price for it (as everything good also comes with a price). I am unlearnt yet of any more reasons. Also, I have never seen a mortal ponder over why their life is great or why they are blessed with whatever good is in their life. If you come across one – please let me know.

This is a debate which even famed philosophers, so called ‘spiritualists’ (who claim they are a ‘know- all-to-life’s-questions’) haven’t been able to clearly explain (though I haven’t read any of them in detail – because whatever I read, disgusted me). They confuse people by plugging more weird definitions of karma and reincarnation to Destiny. Books have been written on this, and people still are in a mystery as to what Destiny is. I always choose not to waste my energies in thinking what is destiny, and what it isn’t, because I have always tried my best to reason and respond with a battle when life has thrown something that is bad and seems difficult, and I still want to achieve it. If I had to explain this from my thought process, it would take me weeks to write it since this particular discussion for me is very exhaustive – but not complex.

You will hear what destiny is from so many sources; and I bet the answers will be either biased or based on some principle based on ‘spirituality’ which are ‘good-to-hear; hard-to-follow’ types. I admit I haven’t read any of them – because I choose to have my own unbiased answers (don’t have the time to read all the world’s views on things which I follow my own belief system – and I choose to understand those elements of thought myself and write what I understand). Hence, I believe the answer to your question cannot be non-subjective or non-relative. Well, I am not a philosopher, neither a guru. I only think in complexities for things which are meant to be thought that way. For me, destiny is a very simple idea with an outcome based on how people respond. So I will try and be as simple as I can what “I” think destiny is. Again, this response may not satisfy you. But these are just my thoughts -

Firstly, you are right in your points above. Events happen. They happen with and without our will or action.

I cannot say that any one of these four points can be picked and said ‘this is destiny’, because all are a possibility. Points 2 and 3 are similar and I did not understand the difference. What is the difference between you contributing towards something and destiny ‘making you’ contribute? Do you assume that these are different? In my view it’s simple. You try and you either get something or don’t get it. You either think for yourself or you don’t (Covering this in a bit of detail later).

According to me there is no fixed percentage of what events we can control and what we cannot, but everything done to us is not complete in itself – except natural, diseased and accidental death. A lot depends on how one responds or reacts to what is done by any external force, and only then can it be complete. The important thing is the response; non-response is also a kind of response. Meaning, when you simply choose to sit there and do nothing. I believe that events flowing after non-responsiveness are considered as destiny by most people. The response may not upturn the event completely, but may change it – and so, further life changes. Tiny micro decisions can lead onto macro events. Decisions which seem trivial may have large effects on how ones future shapes.

Isn’t it true? Isn’t it a permutation and combination of events, which may be small events in themselves, and also may lead on to a larger event? I look back on my life and see how my tiny decisions are having major impacts in my life right now. And how can we only talk about ‘our’ contribution? On many decisions isn’t Destiny entwined with another’s decision making? For example: love, marriage, having children, starting a partnership venture, living with parents… countless examples.

The thought - your sole action point: The decisions for which the responses are solitary, are the ones for which the effects flow depending on your action/inaction. It is usually a ‘you against you’ or ‘you for you’ scenario. If you are depressed, you can get help or choose to self cure (by anything). If you lose, you can choose to never give up. You can choose to persist when things are hard. You can choose to be indifferent, emotional, choose to quit or choose to do anything. (I have covered this in Future, Choice and Ignorance and The Price – so I won’t describe it in detail here). Skeptics will say that thought processes automatically lead you onto what your Destiny is meant to be, but I don’t believe that. There is a difference in having a strong or a weak mind or particular thought processes pertaining to one or more area’s in life – and that influences your decisions. No rocket science there for me on this point... (Is this what point 3 was about?)

Examples of people who changed their lives (destiny) despite all odds. Their response to their events are a great example:

1. A boy who was unable to speak until he was four-years-old. He spoke haltingly until 9 years of age. He was strongly recommended to drop out of school; and did at the age of 15. His teachers told him he would never be able to even lead a normal life.
This boy could choose to not do anything and land up being a clerk or wherever ‘Destiny’ took him. But he is Albert Einstein.

2. A boy who was cut out from his school basketball team. He could choose to quit and take up a job. He is Michael Jordon.

3. A man who wrote a novel and was rejected 753 times. He could choose to quit. He became the novelist who wrote 564 books. He is John Creasy.

4. A boy who was fired by the editor of a newspaper because according to the editor, the boy had "no good ideas". He is Walt Disney.

5. Before learning what language meant, a high fever caused her to become deaf and blind. No longer could she see nor hear. She could choose to give in to this handicap and merely survive. She is Helen Keller.

If this is a whim or ‘my idea’ about destiny, I am glad it is. At least I am not the kind of person who blames ALL the external factors for the way my life is. I know one thing is that when something happens to me, there is a response pending from my end – and I will try to put my best response with the most sane thought possible – in order to shape my Destiny. I don’t care what else the skeptics say… as it is, all they can do is say.

Leaving you with one quote, the application of which changed my life to quite some extent. Godspeed.

One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar. – Helen Keller

Goals for the Soul

Most nights while I am sleepless until the atmosphere around me is dead silent, I wonder what drives me. Why don’t I accept fate the way it so called is written for me, and just move on. Why don’t I just accept defeat to ‘destiny’, put all the blame on it and just ‘try’ and be satisfied with what I have. Blaming destiny is an excuse for not trying hard enough – and I am not someone who makes excuses. I have reasons for my actions. I do not quit; despite I am bleeding from my heels. If I do quit, there is a reason – but never an excuse. Most people are confused with this idea of difference between a reason and an excuse – and I shall clarify it in another post if I feel I got the words.

The pursuit of money, material comfort, a family life and a sense of security of having a fulfilling life is a part of everyone  – and I am no exception to this, but since adolescence I simply just wonder – is this all there is to life? And I am not 'spiritual'... I believe that is total BS, a lie told by people to themselves that they are connected to their inner self, or God or whatever they 'think' they are connected to. If they really were required to walk their mile of the spirituality BS they study or preach or follow, they would simply just drown their values... fickle and funny. What they need to learn is to first connect with themselves... anyways... some other time on this.

What I think is that people mostly do not understand that while all these things are to achieve, there are higher things to do and achieve for the soul – which are ignored while all about the body and brain is taken care of – or attempted to be taken care of. Education is for the brain so we can be a creature of society, and materialism is for the body – no rocket science there. While the brain and the body need to be cared for, the soul is something which is completely ignored. I guess I am born in a medium was mostly slow in learning in adolescence is because it chose to see both the sides of the world – and hence it enables me to distinguish between emotional intelligence and the highly rated intelligence quotient.

These both require being in a balance which cannot be measured – but a balance has to be there. The balance is not a slave to time or quantity, but merely excellence and morality. Maybe that is what explains why my so called ‘prophecies’ have never been accurate. I always try and fight it. Maybe I could have a simpler life if I merely followed what was ordered and was flowing into my life. But I had a big fat NO for everything which seemed ludicrous to me. Hence my post on Future, Choice and Ignorance…

Why is my being so stuck to gaining something which is not sought after in this world anymore? Everything seems so fake and immaterial, that by pursuing those normal goals and dreams may make me ‘institutionalized’ into thinking like others. I have witnessed how others think, and I have thought that way in the past, and it doesn’t please me. And most of the time they aren’t even wrong (being them – what they are), because there are hardly any choices for them – or so it seems – or how they make them to be.

I seek to get out of this situation soon. I soon seek to gain insight into clarifying within me what is trivial and what I can avoid, because while all seems important, it need not necessarily be. Calculations, interpretations, money, security and aiming into so called material goals are not what I would term as the only ‘growth’ I am interested in. There is something more, something higher – something which my EQ (emotional quotient) itches to find out.

The biggest question I have already an answer to. Who am I?
I know who I am. I am an idea and seek to better the soul. I am simply in a human form, but being in here and in this so called civilized platform built upon the premise of materialism and intellectualization – I think even I am getting more out of touch of who I really am amongst others and what is the actual reason of my existence. I trust no one has a definite answer to that question and our the ‘valid’ reasons may crop out of where we are born, in which family we are, how we are raised, how we choose to raise ourselves (external to parental and other influence) and what we perceive and learn from this world – and most importantly, what do we think life is all about. Well, doesn’t seem all so ‘valid’ for me. Mostly I think everything is not seen as it is meant to be seen. There are some façade – drawn mostly by us or by those who we think we should listen to – parents, teachers, ‘idols’ and the like. We do not truly think for ourselves, and do not base anything on our instincts or values. Ha! We sometimes do not even base our values on what we ‘should’ think – and base it on silly sources which seem reliable. Hence, the listening is more towards the mind than towards the heart. There is definitely a curtain of reason to rob us of our common sense – and I also have been a victim of it, several times. But as soon as I realized it, it awoke me to another level. Perhaps that’s the reason I hate moral aridity.

Looking into the dark skies I know I think differently than others – few of the people choosing to see me the way I am, and most of them choosing to see me as per what they want to see me as. I do not claim I have an answer to what life is, or should be – but I know I have begun my journey into understanding it. A journey has been started into realization of my true purpose. I am unsure as to how much time will it take, or how many more stupid experiences will I have to undergo before I can totally shut myself from what is unnecessary for the soul. And ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls - love is very important for the soul.

Some thought scribbling...

Each time you wish to go towards happiness, there may be tougher things to deal. But never let your emotions die and doubt your ableness, for emotions from the heart make your dreams come real.

The sad truth is that most people get emotionally attached to something or someone, but are not always attached to that emotion.

It all depends on how we look at things, and not how they are in themselves. - Carl Jung.
If you are not looking at things the way they are, you are just a creature of imagination and wishes, and less of deeds. - Marcus Hades

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

Loving without expression and expectation is tough. It is like a piercing, causing pain initially. But once it’s settled, its ornament in the soul is truly blissful.

More than the deed done wrong what really angers me is the justification of the wrong-doer that what they have done is right.

My heart I have lost, and nothing for me to gain; though your absence, I find pleasure inside this pain. Pleasurable it may be to not love and refrain; also it may be sane; but I cannot seem to stop loving you and no feelings from this madness I abstain. I’m mad about you – you’re my sunshine and my rain.

Discuss, but do not argue with me, for it shall be in vain; please save yourself some agony and pain. I answer solely to responses, and not to reactions and stupid correspondence.

Everything is subjective and relative but subjectivity and relativity is not everything.

My sunshine and rain

My heart I have lost and nothing for me to gain;
though your dearth, I find pleasure inside this pain.
Pleasurable it may be to not love and refrain; also it may be sane;
but I cannot seem to stop loving you and no feelings from this madness I abstain.
I’m mad about you – you’re my sunshine and my rain.

Till death and across

He kisses her on the cheek and she returns it; a lifesaver,
Her love was all he has which mattered, bliss was the flavor
On nights when he keeps writing, and looking at her asleep;
As he is close to her, feels her breathe, his heart always rejoices and skips a beat
He buys for her lavender colored dresses, and always adjusts her tresses;
When she speaks, he looks at her, and his fate he always blesses
When he sits close to her, she looks deep in his eyes, and says while shying,
“I am yours for all moments,” and then he kisses her lips, dying on them and resurrecting
She walks with him but clumsily and always trips while walking once or twice,
He lovably screams at her, “Take care of yourself. Can’t you follow any advice?”
She smiles, which makes him calm – holds his hand, the wide road they cross,
He just looks at her and he knows, they are together till death and more across
When alone, his phone rings; but when he hears no one to him is speaking
He is now aware that each day, all of this, he is only imagining or dreaming

I look at just one

The skies and my heart are so bright and dark and infinite,
Though only when one star is close, my world is bright;
My amour has all sanity, principles and logics outdone;
While the other stars look at me and more, I look at just one.

Another facet of love

I know a person who loves without expecting, knowing the truth that he must depart with the one he loves, for ‘n’ reasons, after some time. He is sending his love, not knowing even whether the one he loves is receiving it. He believes and knows that his love will always be in his heart, and he will not be able to express himself always like he is able to now, again, for 'n' reasons.

Usually I have seen people only love the person who loves them back, or who expect that by loving another, the love will also arise in the other’s heart – someday, being hopeful about it. (I am ruling out the exception of love for the country which a revolutionary has, or a mother’s love for her child here or anything similar – they are truly… hmm… non comparable to anything in this world).

Truly, love does not depend only on institutions like marriage. It is something deeper. People may think marriage is the destination to sanctify love (that’s society’s sad misconception, because of which many a relationships which could flourish beautifully, die immaturely). But I think love does not need any sanctity. It is sacred in any form. Marriage is fine, and I really hope that all people who fall in love finally reach this destination and fulfill it until death. But love doesn’t always need to expect and can also rise in one’s heart and mind, no matter what is the outcome, or however dark or bright things appear on the outside.

Would love to write more on this... perhaps another day. For now, I am just moved by a volcano of amour - and its raining...

And yeah. Two words for Sigmund Freud and Carl Gustav Jung – analyze this...

Volcano of Adore

Unexplainable was the torsion, which led to the demise of my wishes
My soul nonetheless remains with yours in fusion
it loves more with absence’s blemishes

Sweet ruthlessness is in such a feeble feeling;
should I break the dam of this restriction?
My sentiments are just inside me overflowing
Burning within me are some sweet contradictions

I just hope I don’t let this volcano of adore on you erupt
Unawares since I want you to be, of what each moment I undergo
Holding onto my flooded amour, its natural flow will disrupt
Sanity is something the mind rejects and my thinking is slow.

The volcano has different effects where the magma flows;
when poured on land it destroys, but in sea it creates new
What is this engaging compel I am yet to understand;
my eyes on the sky despite feet in fate’s quicksand
The twine to pull me to my defined tomorrow will drop someday,
and then only glory will have its say; and will be grand

Final nails on a first draft

Dear Unvarying Readers,

Listening to myself and my number one reader, I have decided to finally finish off the first draft of my novel within the next 2-3 weeks maximum. I have been lingering with it since long and I just hope getting back wont be too tough. I got 4-7 chapters remaining (approx 15-20%) - and lot of work post that as well (the second draft should take 2 months). But the finishing the first draft is truly going to be an accomplishment.

I will start posting regularly post finishing the first draft. Hence, I may be pretty inactive here for the next couple of weeks and leave this space in your custody for your reading.

Sad for me - as I was going on and on, on a pleasant grotesque journey of writing poetry - and many other thoughts, but I guess I can continue later. Will miss writing in here. Though I shall be awaiting your comments and emails and will respond as soon as possible.

Have a great time. And until then - Khairete (means "take care or be well" in Greek)

- Marcus Hades

Land and the ocean

How others thought I could never think
my thoughts being far from civilization’s sanity brink;
Like others felt I could rarely feel
My joys far away from culture’s appeal

The sun was always only half seen,
and dried the mornings summer dew
By ways of others, thrilled I have few times been,
since adolescence I slept through nights very few

Bewildered and rather poignant was my atmosphere;
the inquiry how to handle; my conscious was not sincere
Though in trance like state of the inevitable I sought refuge
Bizarre, shaky was my resolve; drown I would in its deluge

The shore of the sea kept restricted cool sand
as I stood in them, my soul finally begun to stand
I wonder why when the waters hit my feet,
I looked at the ocean, the sheltered land may have felt defeat

For long the land struggled, for me to be stable
But now I knew it was the ocean I would always resemble
The land burned from mores at the surface and ashes at the conscious core;
But the waters ran deep, alone, a cool, silent and mysterious store

Pearls of our Amour

The stars seem far away
But mine is even more further afar
as I look in the skies night and day
I sing to you, can you hear as I play the guitar?
I wish my room walls could talk,
If they could, they would tell you
Now silence they only stalk
They miss me talking all nights to you
The candy color I see in the morning skies,
I see our footsteps on the beach
I will write a love story that never dies,
I can, for in my heart, you’re not far to reach
I will miss you in the winters
And I will miss you in the rains
Choosing to find so many answers,
I choose to only cherish us, forget the pains
I wouldn’t ask for anything more now
I don’t want to wipe these tears,
The tears are only pearls of our amour, and I know
I am closer to you than it appears

Sensitivity

I got on track writing this in view of replying to an email I received from one of my regular readers. She did not understand the true meaning of my poetry “Pathways of Ice and Fire”. Well for starters, I think people don’t read poetry, but poetry reads itself to people. But, since this is also a thought much worth musing over, I thought I should write on this for everyone. So here it is Syrena – please read this and maybe you can identify with what the poetry is somewhat about - and of course give me your views which you of course should know I am much open to receive.

General consensus: People who are sensitive are weak. People who are insensitive are strong.

Both these ideas, in my view, are mostly confused. According to me, Strength and sensitivity are two different elements of the persona. Let me try and explain what I mean. 

Sensitivity

Being sensitive is feeling each emotion completely – the way it is conceived by the mind. It is not covering up your feelings with intellectualization, materialism, diverting your mind and/or ‘trying to think practically’. Being sensitive is totally based on emotions. Emotions are totally based on thought patterns – which are developed over a period of years. For example, a terrorist or a murderer may be less or non- sensitive when he sees a person suffer than a person who is a self made man living a respectable life.

Sensitive people are often termed as weak because they express their emotions through actions and/or words. They do not contain their thoughts only within, and the subconscious is also free. The mind is disturbed if emotions do not find a medium to flow; or if they are withheld by design. Being sensitive is passion. Being sensitive is loving. Being sensitive is feeling hurt when you are hurt. Feeling the love at all times. Crying when you are hurt, or missing someone. Being sensitive is also understanding others hurt and in one word to be 'empathetic' towards others pain and suffering; and joy for that matter. Sensitive people do not feel envy. Sensitiveness is developing the quality of doing unto others what you would like to be done to yourself. Sensitivness is not turning bitter; but better.

Being insensitive on the other hand is covering up your true emotions through any means, of which only the subconscious is aware of. The covering up may work for any period of time which is uncertain. But sometimes it may break. That explains the concept of emotional outbursts when people cannot contain their insensitivity towards their own emotions any further by any means.

Strength

Strength is the ability to endure pain, the ability of hanging on when times are tough, maintaining a positive attitude, knowing when to contract and expand your expressions, having faith. Strength is smile. Strength is the ability to take the pain for the ones you love. Strength is to not let yourself turn bad, because that is what you have faced or seen. Strength is forgiveness. Strength is the ability to seek to win, though you have lost. Strength is to love even when you are not getting reciprocated. Strength is to admit your faults and the ability to look into your own mirror – and rectifying your flaws. Strength is patience. Strength is the ability to apologize. Strength is to be empathetic. Strength is to not betray. Strength is sacrifice. Strength is commitment. Strength is fighting for what is right. Strength is so many things – which are like a thermostat for your attitude, values and beliefs. Strength is shedding off attitude and ego for the one you love. Strength is providing support and care to the ones who need it, at times when you are actually down and out, need some support and are in your own mess.
People who are sensitive and strong are the people I believe who attain ultimate happiness; the true happiness. People who are insensitive rarely have the capacity to be strong. So in a way being sensitive provides us the ability to be strong; but developing strength is of course a little more thougher than being sensitive.

Now this is something which really bakes my noodle. Most people are sensitive to themselves whilst being insensitive to others. There are also a few who are insensitive to themselves but sensitive to others. The rare kinds are who are sensitive to themselves as well as others; and the ones who are insensitive to themselves and anybody else. I think I can write a book on this paragraph (maybe someday…)

Mortals who are only sensitive to themselves constantly blame others and fail to see what is wrong with them. Such people will not realize that they are insensitive to others, because within them, the element of sensitivity exists; but the truth is – it only exists for them. They have the factor of self preservation so high in them, that they can hurt anyone – sometimes without knowing it. At the same time, they are satisfied that they are ‘balanced’ or ‘practical’.

Most people prefer to not be sensitive, and alter their emotions; because being sensitive is also painful. But then, they miss on the higher meaning of life – love, clear thinking - and ecstasy due to these. They may also end up hurting others (and sometimes may not even realize this) and make themselves victims of vengeance – or worse, bitter self hate and realization.

The people who are strong and sensitive have a balance of not only understanding themselves and others, but also the ability to see things the way they are – finding the best possible solutions. They are in control of their ‘hearts’ and their ‘minds’ and know when to listen to them. They can think with a 360 degree view and make the best decisions. They have foresight and vision. They are the ones I believe who actually ‘live a life’.

Be sensitive and be strong. I think that’s a good way to go. Good way to live, as well as a good way to die.

More thoughts

Love is all as complex as mathematics; but solvable, only if we resolve one equation at a time.

Reciprocal love is mighty. Love which doesn’t depend on reciprocation is mightier.
 
Never betray anyone in love because of your indecisiveness, selfishness, fear, or for a reason only which you find justifiable. For the mind of the betrayed may forgive, but the cries of the heart are sent in the universe and its equality disembarks at the most apt hour, and incapable of redemption even with time.
 
Time may mend a wound inflicted with reason; but guilty conscience is a sly seraph. For mostly, when it attacks its victims at a time which is the most unexpected and volatile. Its wound cannot feel time, hence cannot be mended.

From my experience, most women are most likely to commit to a man who actually just wants to get into their pants, rather than the one who is honorable. A sense of humor is hugely hyped as a criterion for a man. Somehow the masks of men are more appealing and believable to women, and they rarely give time to see what the man is actually made of – what his values and belief are.
Ghastly men do not obviously care about a woman’s mask, they know their own is worse; the honorable ones are simply ignorant of them, because they believe what they see.

Cries of the Heart

Reflections in your mirrors are brighter than ones in my lake;
Mirrors of yours are far from profundity;
Your belief that you contain your conscience, is only yours to take
How cold can thou be, is all my present admirability
Secrets, lies and forged promises have been in my pursuit ever since I loved,
Strangling the good soul is the attempt; almost in vain, and gloved,
The scars of your vacillation are now my secret scepter;
Enjoy your rashness while it lasts; the future of thou conscience-in-sin you cannot alter
When the heart cries and the thought that bleeds from your treachery,
Justice prevails; nor God, nor fate, nor luck will ever maneuver
Harsh lesions inflicted and opened unendingly; and lessons dawned of repentance
Stung by broken arrows drawn from my heart, understanding commitment’s caliber
Invisible agonizing blood shall be bled of which I wish no cognizance,
Even in this view of events, while you treaded me down in these dungeons,
Entreaty is to my ghost of righteousness; and to my devil of vengeance;
That they do not crash the last door of my fortitude and exoneration
I suffer to not be blessed with your insignificant and irrational contemplation of truth;
I wish that you go through this voyage; unnoticed; with impunity
As evidenced, many mortals dodge their chastisement in tribunals, for crimes in devil’s unity;
But never seen anyone surpass the justice made; appealed only by the cries of the heart.

The Price

There is a price to pay for everything – just as one pays for any luxuries or materiality. The question is not what price; that no one can determine initially, but whether there exists a commitment to pay the price – no matter what it may be.

A commitment cannot be altered to suit ones whims – going off and on to what is suitable to oneself. A commitment should be a commitment to do what is required, no matter what. It is not selfish, does not hurt anyone and does conquer fear. It gives time, is patient and is willing to work out small details. It does not account past failures or frustrations. Moreover, it never justifies the unjustifiable. And what is unjustifiable is never subjective and never depends on a viewpoint. Though clichéd – but true – when you want a diamond, you have to go through a load of crap. When you wish to soar the skies, you have to get rid of your vertigo. If you wish to conquer the peak of a mountain, you have to let go of all your fears and be willing to take the pain in your heels and bear the cold.

Anyone who wants everything good (in love, life, profession or a hobby) without paying the price for it, in my view, is a bandit. The one who backs off from a commitment, when the price seems high – or something which is not in the capacity of the purported payer, is a flip-flopping rabbit. This rule is universal – and no one is – and can make himself/herself an exception to it.
It is strange how many people cannot understand how to take it when life throws something good at them and just reject them. And all this is because all it would take is understanding, a little working on, a little time and persistence. People don’t have the patience, virtues or the will to stand at all odds. It seems to me that people don’t just appreciate beautiful journeys like love (until it only satisfies their selfish needs, attitude, ego, etc), and take it all for granted.

Love is a good example for this. Because love depends on two people’s interaction with each other’s persona’s. Attitude, ego, self-respect and individualism are all good things and are to be controlled and worn on to the persona as ornaments, and not objects of destruction. The problem is, people who bring in these dim-witted feelings in between love, and break a commitment, do not only hurt themselves (and sometimes – don’t hurt themselves at all), but hurt the one they claimed they love (at one point of time) as well. They may or may not realize that how the opposite person may take this kind of behavioral pattern, and whether the person will ever be able to deal with this hurt. The person who has broken a commitment will never understand what virtues are unless they receive the same treatment. That’s so damn easy right – to learn from things when they boomerang right back in your life – when your life becomes hellish because of a broken commitment.

I have come across people who in a relationship promise the skies, but when they find it difficult or are done with their "trial-and-error" mode, deny the very existence of such a promise or commitment; and break it, and the person who has the face the consequences of this indecisiveness. They play the stupid blame game and infact injure the person who is actually willing to stand against all odds.

These people will never realize that they are the ones who are the contributors in making the world a worse place to live in. Creating bitterness, instability, insecurity with every word, action or feeling which is against any positiveness – and they live in a state of flux, ignorance and falsely created happiness (which crops from materialism or intellectualization). How fucking hypocritical and boring…

Smirnoff

Didn't find my brand of Vodka (Finlandia) so had to settle with Smirnoff. Though advised not to drink for months in a row (doctors told me I could die :)), I took this risk.
Well, had to. Too many deafening thoughts pounding the mind since days - on and on. Had to indulge in this - so what if the relief is temporary. Everything is temporary; but somethings need to permanent for this lifetime - until death do us apart 'types'.

And the mind too needs a break to function effectively, doesnt it?  I hope I sleep soundly today. Most of the times it was like in the poetry 'The Raven' - While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

And Prisha, I miss you a lot - and always will.

10.04.10

Exactly on this date, 2 months back, the number 462 became important for me. It was not mere co-incidence I believe. The mathematics of chance is simply so rhythmic. The body and mind can be fragile, but no one can take away the feelings from the heart - no one, and nothing.

4+6+2 = 10.02.10

Simply magical.

An attempt to write a humorous love poem

Dear Unvarying Reader,

Since the time my Dear Reader has been inspiring me to change my writing style, I thought I should try a humour-love poem. And I have used simple words (You cannot imagine how difficult this is for me). I admit I may have sucked at this one, but well, its my first time. (Ahem, a little nervous here). So, here it goes -

Dear Reader - I didn't name the poem and I want you to suggest a name. Waiting perpetually -

I tripped walking on my way today and almost hit a car,
And the man who was driving said, “Are you blind, boy?”
I laughed, what would I say, I was walking thinking of my star,
I would may been hit, but I would still be in joy
My star is no one but you, and I can’t take you of my mind,
My soul now with you has been entwined,
I reached home and started cooking, again you in my every thought,
My kitchen almost caught fire; to turn off the flame I entirely forgot
As I went to gather water to extinguish the flame in a rush,
I slipped on an oil slick floor, as I thought of our kiss, and couldn’t help but blush
I put out the flame in the kitchen, but I was all smiles,
Even if you can’t walk the aisle with me, you will be in my heart all the miles,
I don’t want anything from you except for you to be happy,
Your thoughts are enough for me, to keep me hip and zappy;
I think of all that I could do for you, if you and I were together
I would take care of you all the time, as I find you delicate as a feather
I would pick you up in my arms, and take you around the house like a child,
I would wear my hair, specs and clothes, any way you styled,
I would treat you with the best of candy floss, and along with a kiss,
I would love you so much, nothing would you ever miss,
I would never get tired of writing for you, many a love sonnets,
I would buy you the best of the bracelets and anklets; would quit cigarettes :)
Here are only some of the things, in words so few
Though you have no clue, I am the grass and you are my dew,
Though we can’t be together; I shall always be in my own planet, a world of you
Thinking about the endless things I wish I could do for you

Some more thoughts...

Knowing the truth is like climbing a mountain in an effort to reach the peak. The skies, snow, greens and birds – and finally the peak, will always enthrall you; but you have to be prepared for bad weather, creatures, thorns and stones which hurt.

The answers found by writing poetry occasionally repair the lesion wreaked by reason; rarely heal ones which are wreaked by incongruence.

Poetry is a mostly an intertwined result of dancing with the shadows of yesterday, the darkness of the present and the expectant brilliance of tomorrow.

You rarely need to be good with words in order to carve poetry; just need to be superior at feeling emotions completely.

The heart can keep loving

Another revelation is that love is also love which only ignites one way. It does not seek any pleasure and it is etched within. It is not selfish because it does not want. It simply is there, like truth. It does not change. It is dormant and within. Though the human mind can be feeble, be ignorant and feel many a baseless things about the person it loves, the heart can keep loving at the same time. Of course, I do not know how many mortals are aware of this beautiful feeling, because most of their lives are spent in hate, regret and ignorance.

462 - once again

The number 4, 6 and 2 will never leave me I guess... and I like it, for its connection for me is magical. Reminding me that I come from a place of love. I was searching something regarding a Greek God - Zeus, and I come across this:

In the year 462 AD the Statue of Zeus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, was destroyed by fire after being moved to Constantinople.

The statue burned when it was moved - altered - changed from where it was meant to be. One of the seven wonders. Its destiny of place was changed, and it was destroyed. The number 462 should have been preserved. But well, it is preserved within and all around me and will always hold importance for me.
Well, the connection of this number will only be understood by me, and I guess a reader who just doesn't read me anymore - and failed to read my medium's true intentions.

The Shrinking Mirror

We all must carry a mirror for the purpose of facing our faults and wrongs – and having the mettle to face them. If we carry this mirror (at all times and not convenient ones) and face our wrongs - each time we correct ourselves - the mirror gets smaller. I agree it is not simple and your loved ones will always be biased about how "good" or "just" you are. But yet, face your faults. Be your best critic. It’s the truth. Eventually you will be free from attitude, ego, wrong self-praise and all the enemies of the virtuous soul which make one nothing but a creature of materialism and an effigy of selfishness. You will learn that self respect and individualism (and many other facets about truly being a good human) are not to be mistaken for your ego. And viola - sometime in your life, the mirror will vanish. That should be the goal. It’s difficult - but not impossible. The principle of Temet Nosce is to be followed. (I have discussed this in an earlier post - and cannot seem to stop thinking about it - not until my mirror vanishes at least)

What I truly believe is - you cannot be a fair judge of anyone's right and wrong and do not have the right to judge them, unless your mirror vanishes. Because the vision is then clear and free from any kind of bias. You start noticing everything merely as a witness.

People who fail to face the mirror (or face it only when convenient) - or are in their own world of rights and wrongs (and who claim all moral wrongs are also subjective and depend from "person-to-person" - so fucking cliché) - eventually face a mirror and which shows them their true face and their doppelganger will laugh at them with evil sarcasm. At that time it is too late, and a person can see what a monster he/she has become. Ignorance, blaming another and getting away with it, self satisfying thoughts, trying to use worldly means to take your mind off the truth and shying away from it just doesn't work anymore. Guilt, regret and the lessons of the yesteryears (which were coming to them naturally - but ignored) never leave them. They would wish they would wind the time back and change everything to save their misery which will only die when their conscious perishes - but then again, it is too late.

Well there are people who die in ignorance of their faults and betrayals, and for them I just feel they are lucky (but not fortunate – which takes us on the topic of karma, etc. but maybe some other time). But what if you're not one of them? Think.

So carry the mirror now - before it’s too late. I do carry one myself, and I am glad that I can see it getting smaller. Why? It's because I choose to. And this journey gets me closer to the truth - the depths of the persona what I am, and what I want to become.

Farthest from the Dawn

Tomorrow’s rainbow which you showed me; always gave me the hope to win,
When I thought of true love, I wonder why it turned into a sin
Aimlessly I keep walking on these pointed stones of your dearth,
My sanity evades my consciousness, now your arrival can be the only reason of my mirth,
The constant streams from the eyes hum faithful unending songs,
The body is fragile - the persistent soul for its equal excruciatingly longs
I wish to drown in the pool of the dark rivers of a mortal's heart,
The mind and the heart come to blows; the psyche says, you I should allow to from within me depart,
The skies change color and so do the dry and withered leaves,
The mind refuses to disregard and the soul still your presence believes
Chary I am of myself, and I persuade my core to justify that you are gone
But as I try harder, I always fall in the hour which is the darkest and farthest from the dawn,
Music is noise; I miss the melody of your voice and my ears now bleed,
A rainless dark cloud follows me everywhere, all the green grass is now weed
Time is now my predator hunting to devour me alive,
I wish to satisfy it – so this suffering ends – but it only chases;
what left is me, to myself contrive

It continues to grow

I wake each morning, and my heart is empty,
I am tied by a promise of not meeting you,
But in this bright and crowded city,
All I miss is us, all I miss is you.
I miss your look when I gave you that candy floss kiss,
That day we were alone, which you called ‘bliss’
I miss you on those roads I tread,
When I used to embrace you with my arms spread
I miss you shying away when we used to kiss,
Each day about us I just nowadays reminisce,
Whenever I gaze at that bottle of perfume,
I remember your fragrance and my senses bloom
I miss you in so many ways which are too much to say,
My tears from your absence I can no more weigh,
I wish I could wind back time and make you mine,
In our love’s sun, we could again shine
Remember you told me that me you would not let go,
But yet, in this desert my love continues to grow
I fail to understand why things are like this
I just wanted to tell you that it’s you that I really miss

Die another day

Heard this song performed by Madonna (I hated her to be honest). The lyrics are nice, but not detailed... a nice trigger which inspired me to write something on - maybe later. The best part I found was:

"Sigmund Freud
Analyse this
Analyse this
Analyse this..."

since I am now into psychoanalysis (mostly starting off with live subjects - present and past) :) But wont be following only Freud (I find him - once again - biased) 
So true. Easy to self destruct by betrayal, ignorance, hatred, difficulties, immoralities... but why dont we just... die another day?

Some thoughts

It is very easy for a person who is morally wrong to stand with the support of a biased army; it is easier for a person who is morally right, to stand alone.

Whenever someone feels I am afraid of their actions, hence choose not to fight with them – I love it. It is they who don’t understand that I would prefer to keep my sanity and values, rather than keep hitting my head on a cold iron wall, drain my brains, and become like them.

It is easier to die with pain than to live with a broken heart, especially when you know you were the target and the other was the dart.

The one who has hurt you by making one-sided decisions will never understand what they did wrong, but you can endure that. What will hurt you more is that they think they understand that they did the right thing.

Learning

Whenever you come across people (you may even love them) who are unreasonable, uncommitted,  ludicrous, are full of themselves, cold iron walls, selfish, intolerant, having double standards, hypocritic (etc etc... the list is endless) - do not get angry at them. Bless them, for they are the best examples of a person like whom you should never ever become. There is much to learn from them.
Think about it.

Ephesians 4:2-6

It is strange how somethings in the universe are connected by some design which is inexplicable. As I earlier stated, the numbers 4,2 and 6 hold significance for me when clubbed.
I ain't religious in the strict sense like the world is (you may have guessed that by now), but reading all kinds of texts is my interest, because when it comes to revelations, it can come in any form (person, experience, book, nature, etc) - though you may or may not like the source.

Reading the bible, I came across the Ephesians 4:2,6 - and it starts with the following:

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope, when you were called...

Strange. When you seek a connection sometimes you find none, and somethings unknowingly are connected - like signs, telling you something. Signs are all around us I believe, but you need to be clairvoyant to read them, after filtering all the needless thoughts which the mind forces you to think. To read those signs and believe them or not is entirely left onto oneself.

Concrete decision making

The human mind can never be free of self agony, regret and fears, unless it stops baseless or trial-and-error type calculations in areas of life which require concrete decision making.

The Ship and the Lighthouse

The ships come towards the lighthouse, the lighthouse never moves
They do not come for the lighthouse, but for the shores and beyond,
Many a cerebral thinkers, though authenticated, would this fact disapprove,
That light is just a medium, dark objects want to with something else bond

Matching the Relentless Prowess

He was dreaming a dream which wasn’t meant to be,
Which time had itself forgot,
Through all the skies he chose to see,
A future which seemed presently obscure somewhat
Too much water had flown above his mind,
Slowly the understanding of the inevitable,
Reasons of the earth sometimes seemed to blind
The judgment of the heart, usually kept very subtle
But rising was within his soul, and his desires were afire
The gods wouldn’t dare to intervene thoughts which were to admire
Benevolent though his thoughts were only to his loved ones
If everyone had his mind, the existence of the gods could burn
Always the rightful being is wreathed by the garland of death,
But above the will of the gods and the devil, was his wills breath
And an idea he was, and soon he died without any destiny fulfilling,
But the soul found another intermediary, human, hard was the killing
Years were the milestones of comprehending morality, and right and wrong
His battles began again, smiling; he just waited for the sound of the gong
Keeping the idea alive, he kept dying a thousand mortal demises,
But with each birth his will grew stronger, stronger now than the gods,
The consciousness questioned why such persistence always arises,
The heart said, I am only matching the relentless prowess of the gods, against all odds

Rainfall of bliss

Life wasn’t happy, but nothing to cry,
Looking at you, always made me wonder why
Why are my skies filled with a million fireflies?
And my day starts with your thought, not with the sunrise

Never did I think you also felt the same,
Silent, shy, you never call out my name
Since I now feel I know, only you forever I want to kiss,
My life has been showered with the rainfall of bliss

Your face lights up my eyes with calm fireworks
And your smile gives my sanity a sugary shirk
When you’re near, I think I still miss you
Days went by, clueless, but my love grew,

Travelling, as I see the fountains and the fields,
I can see us walking through them together,
Our love from the worlds harm I want to shield
Take care of you, yield our adore in every weather

What I now want to fulfill is in your hands not mine,
I am ready to take on anything for something so divine,
Alone with you I am always in my dreams,
When I wake up, I miss you to the extremes

Questions in my mind are now plenty,
Will your love flow like mine in a bounty?
But somehow I know you are receiving my love,
Which I am sending to you, heaven’s know that above

I only await your answer, a little to lose you I am scared
But even if you surpass by my love, uninformed, undeclared,
I still will know, my love is true and you forever I wanted to kiss,
And yet my life would always be showered, with the rainfall of bliss

Pathways of Ice and Fire

Sometimes, just sometimes, we attract through our wishful thoughts,
The land of integrity appear plenty to run, and roads appear as we chose to wrought
Then when we choose to walk with someone or something very close,
Acid rainwater befalls clean and as it starts to snow, so do disappear all woes
Walking hand in hand you can see the future – maybe a bit hazy but bright,
Fears and uncertainty vanish and all that continues living is delight
The cipher of life is defined by love, and till the end we want it to fulfill itself,
Someone – something to hold onto, and everything to pride the self

But life has a habit of being like the moon, at times shining and soothing, on occasion it eclipsed
The roads once roved, retrospectively turn in a horizon of thin ice, and you’re anguished,
Once chosen to tread further, the ice cracks open and down you set off,
Whirling in those freezing waters you might drown, freeze and at life you will scoff,
Choosing to stay in those frozen waters, you might survive; your heart freezes, all your virtuous sentiments becoming extinct,
Bitterness creeps within, logic prevails, the heart dies and to not live its life becomes succinct,
You institute to look at years differently, practically, and all the love and passion within you perishes,
But if you vary by vigor, ignorant about facts, your soul all alone, is full of blemishes

The path can also turn hard, rough and days breathing full of fire,
Your soul and heart can choose to burn, but instead, freezing your compassion may seem dire,
Smoldering in fire is torment; the truthful soul always identifies this ‘human’ pain well,
Times with fire are those, in which everything pleasant is missed and time gives the impression of hell,
But barefoot treading on those roads, burning, churning in thoughts of a demise,
Days and nights do not pass, but remember; fire always comes with a guise
Times with fire teach one to be empathetic, sober, genuine and not a heartless wall,
Thoughts become conscious, pure, the soul learns to endure, and overlook what is small
Feeling each emotion torching within completely, leads to a redemption
Comprehending life and its trails, to get up and to take the stand becomes a mission
Despite facing hurt and sometimes what is false, true to yourself and others you remain, splendor entirely,
You learn virtues and belief’s are bulletproof, even from enemies to learn affectionately,
Through burning the soul purifies and the meaning of true love is eventually found,
The strength arrives to never escape any trials and commitments, but to be with majesty crowned.

Though there are different responses for being hit by the unpredictability of existence, not all are ones to admire,
My belief shall always remain that mostly one should favour fire,
For the element of fire destructs, ashes are left of what should burn, faded is false attire,
What stays is something to yearn for, which is in significance much higher.