As flightless as gravity may be

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  With a vision to rise with these wings of aspirations and dreams,
Have I somewhere left that comfort by the window pane,
Beautiful as it was, the warmth under the cool blue sky,
Now rising high in the sky is a flightless bird.`
The winds have changed its course,
 I chase after it,
Painfully as blurred it gets, I breathe in and out.
All I dwell on are words that I don’t see and they can’t feel.
This flightless bird, oh! How high!
As the ground loses its gravity,
The bird flaps her wings,
Darkness covers up the sun soaked day,
She rises higher—than ever before,
Flightless was something she could never be! 

Nuances of a Voice

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As the night summons me to sleep, there is a chill in the air that stiffens me.
It makes me coil in at the edge of my bed,  like a baby.
There is a voice that beckons me in my sleepiness, the voice of indifference.
I say it’s neutrality; it will save me, it will keep me.
The day passes right, there is just no need to fight.
My indifference takes care of it all, my indifference saves me from the falls.
 As the night summons me to sleep, there is a chill in the air that stiffens me.
It makes me coil in like a baby, at the edge of my bed.
There is a voice that beckons me, the voice of indifference.
I say it’s neutrality; It will save me, it will keep me.
I follow peace, and I win my battles with honesty
My Indifference plays honesty well,  my Indifference silences everything that’s not hell.
As the night summons me to sleep, there is a chill in the air that stiffens me.
It makes me coil in like a baby, at the edge of my bed.
There is a voice that beckons me, the voice of indifference.
I say it’s neutrality; It will save me, it will keep me.
Love comes easy to me as I just can’t react.
My indifference makes me simple,  my indifference leaves no expectation.
But as the night summons me to sleep, there is a chill in the air that stiffens me.
It makes me coil in like a baby, at the edge of my bed.
There is a voice that beckons me,  the voice of indifference.
I say it’s neutrality; It will save me, it will keep me.

Highway Breakdowns

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 When words just give up on words,
When they are so isolated that they make noise in your head,
They clammer to be made note of…
When thoughts are so impressed on mind, that they are easily forgotten,
When the action inside leaves you paralysed on the outside…
When you prepare to start at the end,
When pain is the ecstasy you aspire…
When as a child, the only shape you could recognize was a circle,
When the only shape you could give to your dreams was the circle, so vicious!
When the genesis of evil is found in the good,
When you die and are born a million times but still feel human,
And when there are only highways to breakdown on…

A harmless creature

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Inside all of us are contradictions fighting for a sensible, just conclusion. And so, there was a creature who was, supposedly, a dreamer far from the consciousness of the present. He lived in the future, and his present didn’t seem real but only a dream from which he thought he would wake up one day into the real desired space of his.
He had felt it all: the pain, the pleasure, the confusion, the clarity, the emptiness, the fullness, love and hate. He went through phases, yet he felt he was the same, in the same place, at the same time all the time. Years passed by, seasons came and went, and he still waited for the space he would one day silently slip in. Where his want was getting stronger, he was also getting convinced of the non-existence of the space. For the creature, there were just two options: to be rescued or to rescue. Aren’t they just the two possibilities of every single life here on this earth? He was critised for his escapism; but wasn’t he just trying to live like everybody else? Who was wise enough to conclude his acts as a means of escapism? Although he was a humanitarian, his own existence was endangered. Neither, could he rescue, nor be rescued.
So, tired of all, he decided not to wait for that space, instead create it for himself with all the knowledge and wisdom he held. He quickly pinched himself and tried to be in the reality of the present. He removed the dust off the experience of the past and polished the aim of the future. He equipped himself with love, faith, and his dream. He took his first, bold, empowering step, and he felt no more; he ceased to exist.
It is heard he found his space.

In Conversation with Mr. Real

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Sunday, June 5, 2011 at 5:45 am
Just when I thought I’d given a realistic end to my day, something popped in my head and BAM!!!— I begged for the unreal. It was Mr. Reality check who knocked at the door of my little heart and wanted to deliver a message on behalf of the bitch named Death: the message of uncertainty, insecurity, and fear. BAM!—the real is yet to come; BAM!—the real is yet to be faced; BAM!— the real is yet to be conquered. In that moment of truth, all the realities in which I was living were belittled, and it made me feel like a pseudo survivor.
We all say, the realist way of life is ‘the’ way and is favoured over our reveries. But how real can realism be? Are we really equipped to handle the ‘real’ stuff? And if yes, then to what extent can we stand up to it and still enjoy life to the fullest?
Realities of life, people, and our own selves can be very demanding and can certainly throw us out of our composure, and unbalance our pursuits.
There are certain stages that have to be crossed, certain rituals to be followed, and certain limitations to be felt despite our gallantry awards and achievements in this life. No matter how despising the world could seem to be to your comfort zone—a nice place to be, it is still worth it to be a little bit of a ‘reelist’ over a ‘realist’, in those edgy moments.
And yes, coming back to me, after the lightening thunder, to my comfort came a verse:
       … AS YOUR DAY, SO SHALL YOUR STRENGTH BE.
                                                                  DEUTRONOMY 33:25, THE BIBLE