..when the mind ceases to think..
...some organized incoherence.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday, February 15, 2010
But this time I know why. I’m not sure what you’re up to but at the very least I hope you’re safe and well.
I think at this point I can aptly peg you as half a dream. If there wasn’t a history of our IM conversations that I could refer to, I’d actually begin to question your existence and consequently my sanity. Kudos on being so frustratingly elusive. Anyways, all I know is that I conspire to slow the time when you’re there, and I wish for your presence and wellness when you aren’t.
You know, you work in odd ways. After trying to put my life together in the past year, desperately seeking some form of clarity amidst the perpetual trepidations and keeping your silent voice as my starting point, I have finally begun to find a direction. For the life of me, I have no idea as to what role you're supposed to play in my life but it is enough for me to try harder and pave a path towards you. Whether it materializes or not, or whether you’re there at the other end or not is something I leave in god’s hands. If something happens, then I’d luck out, and if not, you can have your consolation that I learnt to try my best.
I also wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for putting you off…a recurring pattern in our past few conversations. I don’t know how things are for you but I probably didn’t make it any easier from my side. I wish there was some fine way to convince you that you can confide in me and allow me to help in whatever way I can. Is it really so hard?
Till now, being a realist I’ve patiently waited for an excuse to write you off and I haven't been able to find any, so now I’ve decided to breathe life back into the dreamer and have both conspire a way to steal you. One day…
Until then, I’ll silently play along whenever you choose to drop by in my “demi-dreams". Stay well.
Friday, October 09, 2009
-- Reminiscence --
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The ugly ducklings
Every once in a while he'd witness the adoption ritual where a couple or a family would come to the orphanage to pick one of them. All the kids would be decorated and presented as adorable as possible while they'd wait with hope and foreboding, well overdue for fate's blessing. They'd all be stood up in a line till one was picked and taken to a new familial home.
He, along with the remaining children, would wonder what they lacked for they were never picked. Why were they not deserving of such generosity? Eventually he began to hide, evading all eyes behind a shelf or under a bed whenever someone would come to adopt, till one day he got caught.
The seeker was an old professor who used to visit the orphanage on a regular basis on his way home. He was a widower with a young daughter with whom he had lacerated all ties once she married the man of her choice against his wishes. He now chose to live alone with his time shared between solitude and loneliness.
The old man crept down and asked him gently, "Hey, were you crying?" The little face with dried streams of saline waters shook in denial. The old man continued, "But you know it's good to cry, because when it rains a lot you get to see a rainbow. Have you seen one?" The four year old nodded with a whispered 'yes'.
That was all it took. He left his first home with the old professor the next day.
Based on wonderment and a scene from the Pakistani play - Dhoop Kinarey
Friday, July 17, 2009
-- Missing soul --
The sacred fire was lit. The decorated bride sat next to it along with her groom, motionless. Foreboding had kept her company before it humbly bowed out to usher in the eventuality.
The rituals finally concluded.
The deceased soul laid still among the burnt wood and ashes, mother to a newborn obedient and stoic wife.