Time Immemorial

I am from Mumbai, the financial capital of India. I work in a global pharma company as a senior executive. Though my work keep me busy, I keep an added interest in writing poems and fiction. Reading and writing is my passion.

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LOVE

The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful … Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.”

“Does he love me? Does he love anyone more than me? Does he love me more than I love him? Perhaps all the questions we ask of love, to measure, test, probe, and save it, have the additional effect of cutting it short. Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved, that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company.”

We all reject out of hand the idea that the love of our life may be something light or weightless; we presume our love is what must be, that without it our life would no longer be the same; we feel that Beethoven himself, gloomy and awe-inspiring, is playing the “Es muss sein!” to our own great love.”

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Loneliness

The lone bird
Who used to creep
into my solitude
Didn’t come
The graying sky
has become deserted

I watched
the waning brightness
of the sullen moon

The night has become
dark and cold

The shadows started
Sneaking in

The poplars started shivering
gradually

Without knowing
where it is taking me
I started following the
fading light

Walking alone
through the deserted road
I tried to hold
onto my thoughts

A stray thought
A reclusive, desolate
thought
brought me gloom

Those endless thoughts
started whispering
“You were alone in the beginning
You are alone now, and
You will be alone at the end!”

Raghs

DON’T HANG AROUND CHICKENS


Did you come across a saying like this?

“Birds of a feather flock together. If you’re an eagle, don’t hang around chickens: Chickens can’t fly!”

I felt it as funny initially. When I thought about it deeply, I felt that it has an encouraging value. It said to me in interpretation as:

Don’t spend major time with minor people. If there are people in our life who continually disappoint us, break promises, stomp on our dreams, are too judgmental, have different values and don’t have our back during difficult times… that is not friendship.

To have a friend, be a friend. Sometimes in life as we grow, our friends will either grow or go. Surround with people who reflect values, goals interests and lifestyles.

At first, you think you’re going to be alone, but after a while, new people show up in your life that makes it so much sweeter and easier to endure.

Over the years my phone book has changed with the addition of so many new numbers because, I changed for the better.

There is always a need for a change, a change to be different, and a change for the better.

People are always shouting they want to create a better future. It’s not true. The future is an apathetic void of no interest to anyone. The past is full of life, eager to irritate us, provoke and insult us, tempt us to destroy or repaint it. The only reason people want to be masters of the future is to change the past.”

― Milan Kundera

Loosening the tie of desires

It was a humid weekend at the tail end of summer. For me, there wasn’t much to do besides daydreaming, as I was not comfortable with things like watching sports on TV or didn’t have many friends to indulge in an outing to search for excitement. In most part of my life I lived in my dreams and even now I keep doing that.

While I sat outside the restaurant over a cup of tea, these thoughts came to my mind. Whenever I come and sit here, I enjoy the scenic beauty of the surroundings. As always a layer of smoke appeared in the long distance and proceeded skywards to paint the atmosphere with a strange look. I soon noticed the power line and saw a group of crows sitting on it in a meditating mood irrespective of the fact that some dogs are barking at them mischievously.

I sensed a numb overcast in the atmosphere with little drift and anticipated a quick rain with a strong breeze. I thought a few showers could make a difference. Though most of the things in this world are uncertain and soon to be forgotten, sometimes a silent anticipation like this may be proved right.

I looked at the watch and felt that time is running so fast. I know that waiting for someone with a wounded patience, wouldn’t be a pleasant experience as it seldom opens the floodgates of nostalgia, but I have to wait for her as it happened to be her call.

I tried to talk to her but got a message saying that “the line is busy, please try after some time”.

Why we give more importance to patience nowadays. Is that for making us more vulnerable to difficult situations?

Suddenly a car came and screeched at a distance. The back door opened and she emerged with a smile. She came close, stood in front of me with an apologetic smile and said “sorry dear”. I clipped a smile on my face and looked at her. She took a chair and sat facing me.

She sat silent and stared off into the mid-distance for sometime as if she is expecting something. I thought to break her atonement but feared becoming an obstruction with such an indulgence. Suddenly she stared at me blankly, as if I had just asked her a difficult question. She began to say something but stopped for a while then started.

“Don’t misunderstand me dear because I am helpless”

I got confused and failed to understand as to what she wanted to say.

“I am leaving for Bangalore tonight”

I got a scare.

“My parents are after me all these days and now they have given an ultimatum”. She continued.

“Then what about your job?” I asked with curiosity.

“Don’t worry; I can easily fetch a new job”.

“Then what about us?” I asked with a faint voice.

“We can be in touch regularly” she consoled.

“Do you feel that is enough?” I wanted an explanation.

She looked at me with a glorious smile and said.

“I feel you can very well bear my absence” I felt a bit of sarcasm in her voice.

Silence loomed around.

Initially I thought our relationship might be due to infatuation, but when days passed I recognized the real feeling of being in love. The cross pollination of feelings gave me wonderful dreams to cherish. It was the best of times, the best of times because I was in love with her. It’s because of such sense of responsibility towards love; the lover inside me wanted more, much more, which stirred the passion. The pleasantries, which we had, kept, reverberated in my mind and the words we were exchanged echoed in my ears.

“Where you lost dear?” she asked, and then continued “Don’t worry, our life is ours”. I felt her pat on my back.

She sounded confident but I surprised how she is in such a hurry to misinterpret the whole thing to put me under misery.

I recollected our discussion about reinventing ourselves. Like absorbing one identity in something larger – with a notion that “one out of many!.” Where that philosophy got vanished?

“I have to move now” She suddenly got up.

“My packing is pending. Hope you will help me!”

“Of course” I replied.

She shook my hands in a hurry and headed home. I sat numb without sensing that I have to bid her goodbye very soon.

While strolling towards the car park I once again looked at the sky and felt that a quick rain is on the way with a strong breeze. I had a relief thinking that at least the rain will fall now.

The things that are happening now didn’t have any connection with the things that were happened in the past. I realized that our meetings were a breathtaking exercise in absurdity and thought it’s high time to loosen the tie of my desires.

Raghs

Soon you will be ashes or bones. A mere name at most- and even that’s just a sound, an echo.

The things we want in life are empty, stale and trivial. Dogs snarling each other. Quarreling children -laughing and then bursting into tears a moment later. Trust, shame, justice, truth – “gone from the earth and only found in heaven”. Why are you still here? Sensory objects are shifting and unstable; our senses dim and easily deceived; the soul itself a decoration of the blood, fame in a world like this is worthless.

—And so?

Wait for it patiently – annihilation or metamorphosis.

—And until that time comes – what?

Honour and revere the gods, treat human beings as they deserve, be tolerant with others and strict with yourself. Remember, nothing belongs to you but your flesh and blood – and nothing else is under your control.

~~Marcus Aurelius

(via thisurlisattractive)

Mystery


A bird sings
while the day begins
It flows through
the pulse of the day
with a warm spell

Like a ritual
I have all ears to
listen to that
with gratitude

I started walking through
the garden
to admire the plants and flowers
and discover something unusual
Though that too is like a ritual
and everything remain as unchanged
I still do it with pride

It is hard to explain
how much it delights me
and reassure me

To irrigate the plants
to love the flowers
to rest under the comfort shadow
of beloved trees
are one of my passions
linked with destiny

Reality is always
more or less
similar to what we dream about

When we watch life from a distance
or from a close range
to disseminate things
to equate distance
The song of the bird gets recapitulate
in the unconscious mind

I don’t know how it happens!
Still it is a mystery!

Raghs