Dream peddler

Acceptance,

The universality of my choice,

A-make-believe reality called life.

My memories never cease to amaze me, of how they swarm in at the moments I expect them the least. Unexpected guests they are, but they start concurring your thoughts you hardly mind their invisible presence. A plaything of the sub conscious, the devil’s desire, the stub of all evolution; mental.

The back face – doppelganger, an alter ego, in its purest form. This alter ego, as it is, I wonder at times if its there for a reason,

Following me,

Stalking me,

Confusing me,

It makes me realize my drive, reinforces that point, that promise I made to myself. It reinstates that freedom that I have now, always existed in the school books. A something is should strive for, even though I understood it long back. It makes me realize that my reason is more important than the I. but ultimately when I stare at the blackness of the night sky, devoid of all those once glittering stars, I see nothing but nothing.

Feeling detached,

Feeling alleviated,

Feeling an existential crisis,

I always believed there is something about nothing. Otherwise why should we feel so calm when we look at nothing? Why do we fear nothing, if there really wasn’t anything? Isn’t it strange that we urge to merge into the nothingness, to let go this mundane, materialistic dream. May be an interview with this brand name Nothing can clear something.

Intoxicating,

Beautifying,

To think about nothing – how difficult is it?

My memories – this nothing. Sometimes it evolves into a mere egoistic dot in this certain timeline that I think I exist. Sometimes it makes a something of the nothingness in me. It can achieve something. It teaches me to pretend. Beyond all aspects it tells me not to be me. Nothing has something in it. But is the reverse true? Can something metamorphose into nothing? It tells me to do this exact thing. To keep your emotions to yourself.

 

 

Also at: http://sauvik.sulekha.com/blog/post/2007/08/nothing-really.htm

Behind every success, there is a sacrifice…

Behind every puff of smoke, there is a fire…

Behind every love song, there is a love story…

Behind every minute passed in life, there’s one innocence…

 

Every thing we do, there’s an invisible hand, that lights up our way that inspires and infuses. People say life is all about give and take. What you give is what u take! But somewhere I feel there’s always a mismatch. Sometimes what you give to the world is not something you receive. Some cause you are fighting for is not fulfilled. A jigsaw puzzle that has gone awry? Somewhere, at some point of time, we feel a dearth. A desire behind which we gave our best, but still that vacuum is there. The unfulfilled expectation.

 

There’s many a slip between the cup and lip.

 

Why didn’t the love song die, since the love has been lost?

Why wasn’t sacrifice taken back, if we didn’t meet our destination?

Why didn’t the fire in the burning cigarette go down, if the smoke couldn’t kill?

Why didn’t we get back our lost innocence, if every life has one destiny, i.e., death?

 

We have one life. And its destiny? Death! Hell or heaven? Every love song we write, every success we crawl up to, every fire we light up, every minute we pass, every innocence, we leave behind, all has but, one destiny. Still why do we fight back? Why do count the odds? We are we like the sea? Kissing the feet our desire, but could never achieve that, and still we try. Why don’t we give up?  Why do we walk alone, still; in the boulevard of broken dreams?

 

The cup is the desire.

The lip is the will, that invisible hand.

The slip is love.

 

The world still moves because it is “in love”. Love is the invisible hand that makes us go in search of all our dreams. We love our life, that’s why we still breathe. Every thing sums up to love. Love plays god all our lives. Love takes us slowly to eternity, that destination, death. We die in love. But still we love. Every war fought, has love at the end. The love of victory, the love of dominance. Every love story told to us as the love song behind it. The love might have been lost, but not the love song. This the love of sweet submission, the love of defeat, fantasy. Every sacrifice, behind an unfulfilled dream has the love of a fire rekindled, the love of a new dream, and rising from the ashes. Every minute we pass in our life, we look back. It’s the love of our long gone innocence. Our road to reminiscence.

 

 

In our childhood, mom taught us, that god is everywhere you look. The flowers, the dewdrops at the tip of a leaf, within you, within me. Everywhere. Our innocence put our trust in it. We were in love with nature. Hence we still ran…

At a time, when everything in our life was going wrong, none of the puzzles were matching, we put our trust in the belief. We were in love with our instincts. The faith worked as a mental support, we had sowed decades ago. The innocence returned. Somehow we got the strength and we ran…

 

Nelson Mandela redefined racism, because he loved the godliness of mankind, of being purely a human. Not a penny more, not a penny less. Tagore, penned Gitanjali, and redefined literature, because he was in love with expressions of his inner self. Hitler redefined war, he was in love with his pride.

 

Forrest Gump chose to run… he was in love with life… and he ran, ran and ran…

 

He became a shadow of ours…!

“The torn pages… of a diary make me the feel the way to neverland… the land of angelic love, no hearts broken, no tears shed, no emotions subdued. That beam to happiness that you would come to me and embrace me, with all the warmth in you. And I would lose my soul in that queen of all emotions. The king who had accepted his defeat.”

 

 Every breath I take, I smell new life, closer, more closer, that would make you twitch in warmth of it. The whirlwind that love can create is immense. It can flow through my heart, upturning every reason, every rational emotion of mine. The dusts of haziness would sink my consciousness in a quicksand of time. Time? Time would stand still. Every move I make, I smell the fragrance of cosmic happiness. The happiness that leads up to a space in time that, I would never find a way out of it. It always gave me a reason. A reason to love you more…

 

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“Remember when I first met you? I really don’t remember, but the torn page does. Seems like it’s been ages that we didn’t sand walk, down the soft sands of memory. Our footsteps had been washes away.”

 

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The black of your eyes, as I look deep in you, I put my faith in those blacks. And suddenly I am lost, but that black doesn’t look sad. As if its wrap around the pains of time. I feel the black as the invisibility cloak that hides me from all my insecurities. And suddenly the black would burst into the flames of spring. I roam mid ocean, the cosmic feelings. And slowly it zooms in; the black gradually turns into grey. Grey to white. The peace in your eyes. The eternal spring. The spring that would never have its fall. It always gave me a reason. A reason to love you more… a reason to start over new.

 

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“Remember when I first kissed you? You really didn’t have a clue how the world turned upside down. I hardly remember, but the torn page does. Seems like ages that romancing of the moon has been over, in that cold wintry night, pampered by love. “

 

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The red of your lips showed me the twilight to my dreams. That yes, a day has ended. Its time to turn my back to reality. The red is fading. But there’s always the space to run my imaginations high and dry. A rose, is all I see, I miss the thorn in it. The wetness in the petals of it. The freshness in every subtle breath it takes. I could almost feel the whisperings of the rose. And I give the rose a love bite, and it curls up its petals deep down as if moving away from me. But yet it opens up, and shows the radiance that it hid from the world all these days. The bloom. The rise of love. The loss in love and finding love once more, although it has every thorn in it. It always gives me a reason. A reason to love you more… a reason to reincarnate.

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“Remember when you told me “every rose has thorn”, I denied looking into the pains. I can’t remember them but the torn page does. It seems ages that we looked into eyes. That shine of that crazy diamond isn’t there.”

 

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The black of your hairs, makes me see the dark monsoon clouds hanging precariously over the sad sky. But I see the sliver lining of the darkness. The silver that’s streaking across the cracks of the grey clouds. I see at as a stint of sunshine, and as I bask of that little sunshine streak, I see that the sunshine’s turned into love. A love bath in your arms. As I bury my face in the waters of that sunshine, I feel the beads of pearls shed from your eyes, turn into dewdrops, at the edge of the green grass. I wonder why I went in search for a neverland far away, when it’s just a happiness far. I stayed there, stood still, for the fear of losing that sunshine that imbibed life in me. . It always gives me a reason. A reason to love you more… so that I find happiness in bliss.

 

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“Remember when I saw you, in a new life, you told me to forget the past. I laughed at you. Sarcasm is one the best services that I offer. I laughed at you because you never knew what love is? Because you never understood pains of happiness in love. Because you hardly tread into the hard path of love. I laughed at you because you never knew how reality differed from illusions.”

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“I always told you I loved to move on in life. I don’t turn life back to look back. Oh!! How I lied you. I laugh at you because you believed in this age old trick.”