Synchronicity

Are u sure that the girl in your heart is the same as the girl in your mind? Because when they conflict, you often choose the latter, only to wake up with regrets later. Also, that's when you start messing up the girl's life - whichever is with you.

Even emperors fall and their kingdoms are nothing but relics in soporific history lectures. All kings will be passé someday. We are all made up of the same sand.

Some people speak of great flaws to 'small' people...only for the little people to keep quiet about and know deep down inside, that not just they(the little ones), but the big ones are also doing the same things, just that they gave the big ones opportunities to continue being wordy about those exceptional flaws.

Some people's loves are beautiful castles made ambitiously in the sea- only to realize too late that the moment they had laid the foundation, it was being corroded by the consistency of the waves...for the waves were forever there, and the castle was built with haste and its strength was overcalculated.

Freedom always wins over love. And they should never be at conflict. And if they should be, love always gives in.

Time is the most believed-in Illusion(maya). If it were indeed a finite measurement as it is greatly believed to be, we wouldn't find a wait outside the operating theater, or the wait for a lover to come back and break the ice so long. Nor would we find moments of intimacy so short.

Love is the only thing probably, that, when it is resident, desires the utterance of a beloved's name, and when it flies out, looks down upon the same utterance as an infliction of violence.

there is no clock in my room since i can't stand the sound of time. it was, however, 5:43am. i checked my cell. it was blank. i tossed. the thought sped past barriers of my subconscious like a dart that missed the shield i often put up, and i thought of him. the one i loved. i tried to blank my mind and put myself to "sleep" - or rather, as it had now been reduced to, background thinking. but no. he refused to go. rather my mind refused to let me get away from the same questions that had been jarring on my mind since quite long. i felt like calling him up. to just reach out. then thought why disturb him by interfering in his life that he'd so proudly pulled away.so i tried to think of something else, but in vain. i crawled out of my bed and put on my playlist. it belted the only rock i had come to adore and admire. concentrating on it i tried to sleep. the windows lay open and the wind rustled the tree peeking at my window sill. as i closed my eyes i could sense the dawn coming up - rather felt the light trying to seep through my translucent eyelids. And before i knew it, i was asleep; or so it seemed at first! then started the spirals of "dreams" as i relate it now to the best of my recollection...

thread#1 : seen as if i was filming it - in second person, exactly like Harry Potter would be when he entered thru' the Pensieve.

"i had held my Dad's hand.i was on the left.we seemed to have entered thru the iron gate of a building, though i didn't see it.i felt it. i could see just our backs-i.e my Dad's and mine.the coloring was a watery gray, nay, it wasn't cloudy. the building felt like i'd been to it before. though i know,i haven't. i saw one or two old people around, but it was not an old age home. again no faces. the building was like some of those buildings i've seen in the quiet areas of Paud Road. only the first storey was visible in my perspective,but i'm sure there were more.anyways,i took my Dad to a jhoola that was tied up in the parking lot- that was either a basement,or the ground floor.we sat down.i tried to tell him something. but i was tongue-tied. no emotion was the cause of it, i believe. i am just mute in my dreams most of the time. all throughout, there's hardly any spoken communication from my side in any of my dreams. anyways, i just put my head down in my hands and cried- and the only evident emotions that were the cause of it were shame, grief, regret. but again , there was no face. not mine. not my Dad's."

at the end of it i felt strangely sad. as if i'd lost someone forever.a father figure.

it(my mind) switched dreams immediately.

thread#2 : again seen in the same way as described above.

"i was depressed. my mom and i were sitting this time in a cafe of sorts. it was a cafe run in what seemed like the first floor of an old building. again the building looked familiar - like i've been there. but this one seemed like i had been to in my present life. its proximity to the sloping road that was visible even from the far end of the room we were seated makes me feel it was on the first storey. the room wasn't big. it had light, dull beige walls.a color i've seen on walls before. some of it seemed chipped, though i dont remember exactly. my mom was speaking presently. again i could not hear my voice. my responses seemed muted. though i don't even know what my mom was saying, but it was evident that she was trying to draw me out of my low, depressed spirits. suddenly i saw a huge Volvo-like bus coming down that sloping road that was running along the building. we were just looking there. and then out of nowhere, a group of jovial but creepy film stars appeared. i can recollect one of them as KK clutching a woman, who appeared to be, more like the usual stylish whores.there were 2 more women, whom i can hardly recollect.then came another actor,who was slightly irritated by the whole group. and then, up came Saif Ali Khan, which is truly mindboggling!anyways, he seemed veyr happy to be there and kept giving me a stupid consistent grin.he had shades on. so couldnt make out whether he was staring at the wall behind me, since that gaze was so straight and blank. anyways, these people were coming up the stairs that started from the road below went up to each storey of the building from the outside. the stairs were made of wooden planks and not concrete, funnily enough, tough then entire building was concrete and there seemed to be no other way of entering the storeys. it seemed that they had come for a shoot. they all disappeared for a few minutes. my mother went up to the old fellow who was running this "cafe" and asked him if he would hold our table if we were to go and serve them some tea!!!(this is indeed ridiculously bizarre!) the old fellow seemed to be crouching n the floor washing utensils or soemthing like that. again no face was visible. amidst this confirming and convincing, this group of actors came downstairs and went back the way they had come. my mom was about to go back to convincing me when..."

it switches my dream suddenly again...

thread #3: here i was in my shoes.i was feeling i was there,rather than being a spectator as i was earlier,filming my own self.

"i'm in an old "waadaa" i.e cottage-style house. i'm standing just inside of the back door entrance from where i can see my mother laying down a bright blue straw mattress down on the courtyard, that has a "roof" held up by bright blue wooden poles. i wanted to tell her something urgently, but couldnt find the words(again).i looked to my left(inside the room where i was standing), and saw a flower pot about 3-4 feet high. beside that(still within the room), was a patch of soft, mocha brown,moist sand.it was moving. it would've seemed to someone that the movement was of an animal burrowing across, but i somehow knew it wasn't. then there was another movement - more irregular this time. and i knew it for sure. the words in my head spoke to my mother, tellin her to stock up some dry foods like biscuits. but she wasn't visible anymore.nor was i actually speaking to her.all through it,i was tensed but never afraid."

suddenly my dream switched again into another thread.

thread #4: here too, i was myself, but this time more myself than i was in any of the earlier dreams.

"here the focus was on only a person-a child. i think it was a girl of about a year old who'd just learned to speak. she came to me.she had black and off-white granules on her mouth which, frankly, gave me a quesy feeling.when i touched her, i felt like she was a child i had touched before.i knew her from somewhere.and this was the deepest point of contact within myself i felt i had during the entire night.and i tried to get her close to me.and everytime she did, which was periodically, i would kiss her cheek, hopin the "spots" would go away.but they didn't.i tried again.still nothing happened.and bizarrely enough, she would run a bit away everytime i kissed her, showing me a thumbs-down,u-lose sort of a sign, laughing naughtily."

whirrrrrrrr... the dream switched again to thread #3 again wherein i was still seeing the movements in the earth.

i crashed into the most disturbing dream.

thread #5: here i was initially watching everything in an aerial view.

" i was speeding down a hill which seemed very much like those foothills in Assam on which tea is cultivated. except that they seemed to have passed. there seemed to be people in the jeep with me-can only recollect that i had an acquaintanceship with them.but there was no emotion present in this dream. the atmosphere was indeed cool and breezy like a hill station's. there seemed to be foliage around too, though the jeep was speeding downhill, so it was all hardly noticeable.as i saw on my right, there was a Christian cemetary on that side of the hill slope. and very strangely enough, there were some Islamic men offering prayers beside the graves marked with the Christian crosses. i turned my eyes away from this sight.(now i was seeing myself again, like in threads #1 and #2) suddenly the loud screeches of parrots came to my ears. i looked toward the left and there were graves there too. but no crosses on them. in fact there were people dressed in white doing some kind of "work" there.i think they were women. and there, beside the graves was one (or more) huge cage, about 2 storeys high, densely populated with parrots- bright green with their brighter red beaks making noises. there was another cage just in front of this one, but more sparesely populated with the same kind of parrots. these were however feeding on human flesh, which seemed fresh and weirdly enough burnt."

there was no negetive or positive feel to this dream.

but before i could react to it, my mind whizzed me to thread #4 dream again.

thread #4 (contd.) :

" i kissed this girl again, hoping this time that the spots near and around her mouth would disappear. this time when she pulled away after i did, she started laughing and pointing at me. her spots had disappeared. and she told me they were on my mouth now."

i felt numb.not feelingless, but that i was still in the initial stages of reacting to the shock.

my mind again zoomed to thread #2!

" here my mom who was trying to lift up my spirits, told me that they had got something for me. a lovely pair of capris, peach colored - my instinct told me, from Shopper's Stop here.(now we suddenly seemed to be in bombay).i was interested.and we seemed to be leaving that room."

and here the whole dizzying spell of my dreams ended. i never saw the capris though!
_______________________________________________________

I have set out to track my dreams - the innermost realms of my consciousness since they put me in touch with my deepest darkest fears that are, i suppose greater fears to one's self than anyone, or anything else. It is all in reference to the TOI article in the Sunday supplement - Times Life, that inspired me to reconnect with what lay within me.

One must step into the dirt and filth to clean it, not be a spectator. Being a spectator and criticising the filth is nothing but hypocrisy.

- Date of the dream: 17th July, 2006.

Emperor

"When the crown sat on his head
He robed his usual finery
It was an ostensible servitude
That was nothing more than perfunctory.

But look into his eyes...
His wisdom lay there
Tranquil and enigmatic
That gripped them and eluded them, in despair.

He spoke not of faraway lands
But of genius that in simplicity was laid
They failed to understand his dialectic sermon
Alas!they fell in the stereotypes of those beneath their grave."

- poem in class.

"Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offence and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins and delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure...whatever comes."

- A Walk To Remember.

All The Way - Frank Sinatra

When somebody loves you
Its no good unless he loves you...
All the way
Happy to be near you
When you need someone to cheer you
All the way


Taller than the tallest tree is
Thats how its got to feel
Deeper than the deep blue sea is
Thats how deep it goes if its real
When somebody needs you
Its no good unless she needs you
All the way
Through the good or lean years
And for all those in between years
Come what may

Who knows where the road will lead us
Only a fool would say
But if you let me love you
Its for sure I'm gonna love you
All the way
All the way....
So if you let me love you
Its for sure I'm gonna love you
All the way
All.. The ... Way......

Episode of the heart

As one waits with the mist of time swirling in and swirling out, one asks, "Why did he end it?". One longs for kindergarten, symbolic of happier times when one had not fallen into love. Why was one happy then? One accepted everything as is. Then why couldn't one accept things the way they were now? One looks for a better reason. A stronger reason. How long can one be selfish and think of how safe one felt when with him? Not for long. Not now on. Sometimes the only source of light is a glowworm.(Her thoughts were scattered and on him.)Maybe he didn't feel safe. Cared for. Comforted. Loved. cherished. Maybe he didn't find a companion in her that he thought he'd found. He expected too much, a voice said. Others said it. He, too, wisely had sometimes. She had felt it too sometimes. But it was coz he gave so much. A natural thought of wisdom spoke within her. Great expectations had led to great misery. And now it just left a throb in the heart, an ache, which couldn't be touched or healed. At times it worsened, at times it seemed distant, but it was always there. Sometimes there was a terror that gripped the heart. She'd think the unthinkable. If he was with someone else, if not by self, maybe in the mind. But then, i reminded her, his life had never been upto her. He lived it on his own terms always. And now he is freer. All that remained, was a situation she wasn't accepting. She had to come to terms with it. That was all that was left. She exhaled.

Yes she would wait. But not wait for him this time. She would wait, only, for him to let her know, that he was happy atlast.

Time had passed in reasoning. But time, she realized, had been lost a long time back. She was slow in catching up - with butterflies, time and people.

She stopped thinking. She focussed on the colors that people were wearing. She seemed at peace. The bus came up. It took her and went.Her soul remained there.

"The binds break...the bonds remain."

just to you Piyush.

Sometimes it's the hardest thing
To be groping in the dark
To foolishly hope for miracles to happen
And know they wouldn't come,
Cos there isn't anything being done.

It' s agonising, the stillness,
Like a dark, dark night
That just wouldn't pass away.
And one would try to climb
out of it,
Like a high, steep wall
But senselessly again,
Not having footholds or grips
Until one realised tonight
Not to claw.
To let it be.
To love him.
In silence.
It's easy to be a flower
Blossoming in the best of sunshine
And the happiest of breese.
But flowers grow...
in the weakness of
the moonlight too
They grow in an abandoned well too
And if they'd care, they bear the earth's
homely fragrance.

Moved from sunshine to night
Our love has been...
And while the abyss of your silence
Wounds my heart
Our love will still flourish
'Cos you kept it warm...
in the coldest of the nights
Kissed it in the face of your disappointments
And now its my turn
To withhold it just as strong
thru the night as it should pass
To play the part, without stains of glory
To embrace humility
To embrace your generosity
And love u i simply will
To the fullest and pettiest of my being
And in retrospect it will be...
i pray...
One of the sweetest of your memories.

Today in darkness
Waiting and hoping,
When ways of praying
Seem to have been forgotten,
Your love won't be
As every conscious moment
Is absorbed by your memory
This quietitude from you now
Also loves me so still
Like a few moments of Perfect Love
Made by us together
Left you in me.
forever.

personal recommendation:

"His Bright Light" - by Danielle Steel.

a beautiful story about a mother who lost her son to bipolar disease,or manic depression as it is more commonly known as.may parents find the strength and the incredible love to deal with incapabilities as these...and may God bless those that suffer from it with His Holy healing Touch.Amen.

as i read this book i realize more n more, how strong and sensitive a woman must be...how lovely our mothers are, and how often we misunderstand them and never let them know and feel how precious they are, how we would not survive an inch of any existence without them. that we do more sin by hurting them than stealing from a person. because we kill their spirit in every way that we are rude to them. because they have a right to expect more from us than anyone else because even though the umblical cord was cut at our births, we, as a person, are a part of our mother.

please dont be rude to ur mommies. she loves u so much, that she will never tell you. but u will always feel it. i have sworn, for the better of me, never to be rude to her, a promise i will keep unknown to her, but i know she will sense it.

and may we realise how gifted we are when someone cares for us... to not throw it away for ego, vanity, foolish pride and idealistic principles. for life is short. so bloody short, and so damn fickle. whoosh! before u know it, someone could have run over your loved one. is it gonna take that for you to realise how much you loved him/her?

days are flying by like the revolutions of a giant wheel...we cant stop this life from turning us over every once in a while...and as i feel genuinely getting older with every passing sunrise before i open my eyes to it, i wish it'd not waste away this way in nothingness and empty silences... Wish i could just give it all to you my Precious rainbow-child, butterfly-man, and pass away in a flash leaving you all its brilliance and happiness.

before i get any older, before my spirit sags more with the weight of meaningless, soul-less diurnal activities, take away my youth Dearest. and after it has passed, cast me into any judgment you want to. but not now...please not now... not anymore...jus take my love...let it wash over your feet atleast like ocean breaks into a gentle surf at ur feet my love...

take my love...make it yours, for it belongs to You.