Long time since I reflected back. But I don't want to any more. Never knew things would come to this. So much fun at such an age. How could one come to the terms like this?. Some times you very well know the path to be treaded, but alas, you stand helpless and that tear treads ever so gently over your dried skin. Without even giving a least of the hints life takes such a smooth turn to an adventure, that fills your heart with love and then gently to hate finally taking every thing away settling every moment in dust. Yet, we would take that course. If there is any thing in this world that could make it beautiful is compassion and as you walk down the road soon you'll know there are not enough heed an ear to your tale and empathize with your parched lips. That's the city life. Young and lonely.
Sometimes it comes all striking right through the middle of the heart. A flash of the scribbling with black charcoal on the wall rips across the darkness. The echo of laughter within the four confines of the wall comes shattering the ear drums.The warmth of a shake-hand and the swinging palms bidding good-bye. Eyelids press against each other either confused to forget or to recollect, to run towards or farther from the haunting truth and beautiful mirage. A shadow standing in dark corridors of confused youth seeking bliss in calm of starry night, sweetness in the sound of burning paper.
Once I stopped a walking man passing across and patted his back, today I see a dead cow lying in front of me.
Have you ever planted a tree. I think one should try his/her hands on that silliness s. And then the plant grows, blooms and blushes becomes green, but bears no fruits and no flowers. Would you for-sake it? Why do you forsake it ? Why do you choose to love?
And I saw a river tumble across the stones, loosing its stream and finding it s way back again to join the final rush. But the river after all shall finally loose itself in the vastness of ocean and be just water. So futile is the existence, but the rush I guess is worth it. It's the journey that matters, better than be a lake calm placid and at the end site saddened by ugly algae and eventually vaporised with no history.
When did all the sun-flowers die?. Don't you get distasteful of death. You were the golden boy. Now even punching the keys is a sorry pain.
Once I stopped a walking man passing across and patted his back, today I see a dead cow lying in front of me.
Have you ever planted a tree. I think one should try his/her hands on that silliness s. And then the plant grows, blooms and blushes becomes green, but bears no fruits and no flowers. Would you for-sake it? Why do you forsake it ? Why do you choose to love?
And I saw a river tumble across the stones, loosing its stream and finding it s way back again to join the final rush. But the river after all shall finally loose itself in the vastness of ocean and be just water. So futile is the existence, but the rush I guess is worth it. It's the journey that matters, better than be a lake calm placid and at the end site saddened by ugly algae and eventually vaporised with no history.
When did all the sun-flowers die?. Don't you get distasteful of death. You were the golden boy. Now even punching the keys is a sorry pain.
1 comment:
Finally you are back!!! As usual, an amazing article.. Keep it going man!!! Was waiting for you to write..
Post a Comment