My Robin flew away…

My Robin flew away….

My Robin flew away…

That morning was different.

That horizon with the twilight hue of dawn was colorful.

That air smelled of freshness.

I was up and awake from a dreamless slumber, with dizziness of new

awakening and anticipation of a bright day.

A robin flew my way and sat just beside me on bird feeder I hung in

the porch.

I rarely remembered it to be there till I saw a Robin there.

He mesmerized me. His soulful look looked through my heart and soul.

All I could do was smile at him.

His blue brilliance shone with glory and pride.

The impeccable arrangement of feathers was like virtues on character.

He was not young and naïve but seemed struggled and grave.

For moments he stared at me as if searching for some answers.

Our mute communication said all in itself…

He returned every day, we met every day.

At times I felt he smiled at me too. He liked me too.

He used to sit longer than usual beside me. Perhaps he felt secure with

me. Perhaps he felt himself with me.

We shared something. May be the synchrony of heartbeat. May be the

resonance of past life.

He would sing to me. His voice, in all its brilliance and spectrum, pulled

the strings of peace and symphony in my heart.

The background score of his songs masked the mindless chaos of

existence and was the element of endurance.

We would stare at the abyss of horizon for endless hours. Just feeling

the oneness, just feeling the kinematic of abstract love.

That recharged his soul and renovated mine.

At times I would pour my heart out to him. He listened with intense

understanding. One flutter of his wings would ebb away the floods of

cluttered emotions.

His mere quiescent presence enlightened and enriched the very

quintessence of life.

At times “my robin” emptied the basket of his struggles and sorrows,

the encountered crescents and furrows. What carved his withered

feathers and what smoothed his roughened spirit.

I saw him basking in the glory of triumph and eminence, while also

wallow in humbleness and acceptance.

The rainbow of his charisma had more colors to it and the austerity of

his character had no spatter on it.

It was a nexus of sentiments that enchanted us; the gravity of

affection that entrapped us; the passion for life that enchained us.

The time frame had changed its dimensions; few moments of

rendezvous were endless hours of fulfillment.

He was an oasis of serenity in the desert of turmoil and clamor to my

heart; I was the haven of nurturing love and fortitude for his soul.

That friendship omitted the years we aged; caressed the sore spots of

heart; healed the bruises of soul.

That secure blanket was wrapped tightly around; was too good to be

true; was too fragile to last; was too ethereal to be real.

One day he flew back never to return; his eyes said goodbye; his song

screamed farewell; his aggression meant egression.

It was time to be in his nest; it was time to be for those who were a

part of his life; it was time to fulfil the commitments.

He had lives to cater; he had dreams to realize; he had promises to

keep.

He couldn’t stay longer; he couldn’t wait further; he couldn’t live

farther.

I still wait for “my robin” every single day; I still put fodder in the

feeder for him; I still strain to hear his songs.

I know he won’t come; I know he can’t come; but that glimmer of hope

never fades…I still search him in every robin I see.

My Robin flew away…

The world is still the same,

But the dusky dawn has no colors; the violaceous twilight is gloomy

blue; the rainbow has greyed.

There is no fluttering of wings; there is no melody of love; there is no

illuminating chatter.

The tranquility is lost in the forest of turbulence; the sanity is blown

away by hurricane of bereavement; the stability is shaken by the

tremors of that binding cord that tied us.

My Robin flew away…

The time has changed its dimensions again. Every moment lasts till

eternity; the life around is in standstill trance.

The path ahead is teary blur; dreams now are directionless compass;

the ground under my feet is no more gravitating.

There is no lighthouse of inspiration; the fogginess of pain encroaches

my essence; the vacuum of something amiss consumes my spirit.

My Robin flew away…

But I ll keep him alive in the world around me; I ll keep the memoirs of

our bond carved on the walls of my heart.

But I ll keep the aroma of his beauty perfumed in the air I breathe.

The robustness we generated can’t go in vain; the music we created

can’t be unsung; the crevices we filled can’t be cracked.

My Robin flew away…

But I ll fill the feeder with affection and strength in case he returns

to refuel…

But what we journeyed together has left its trail; I ll pick the thorns

of it in case he returns to travel…

But I ll light my porch with fireflies of love and warmth, in case he

returns to enlighten…

My Robin flew away…

But I ll glorify the walls with the buds of homeliness in case he revisits

to nest…

But I ll fill the air with the welcoming music, in case he returns to

retreat…

But I ll create the hall of fame with the chroma of his grandeur, in

case he returns to enliven…

But I ll clear the sky he flies, of its cloudy debris, in case he returns

to escape…

My Robin flew away…

I wish for that one glimpse of soulful eyes,

I wish for that one feel of fluttering wings,

I wish for that one sound of hymn-like melody,

I yearn for that one moment of life…

My Robin flew away…

But he caged my heart in his heart forever…

But he spelled out the commandments of odyssey of life for me…

But he embossed the divinity of love on my soul…

My Robin flew away…I wish I could fly to him…

 

Advertisements

My Robin flew away…

Image     My Robin flew away…

My Robin flew away…
That morning was different.
That horizon with the twilight hue of dawn was colorful.
That air smelled of freshness.
I was up and awake from a dreamless slumber, with dizziness of new
awakening and anticipation of a bright day.
A robin flew my way and sat just beside me on bird feeder I hung in
the porch.
I rarely remembered it to be there till I saw a Robin there.
He mesmerized me. His soulful look looked through my heart and soul.
All I could do was smile at him.
His blue brilliance shone with glory and pride.
The impeccable arrangement of feathers was like virtues on character.
He was not young and naïve but seemed struggled and grave.
For moments he stared at me as if searching for some answers.
Our mute communication said all in itself…
He returned every day, we met every day.
At times I felt he smiled at me too. He liked me too.
He used to sit longer than usual beside me. Perhaps he felt secure with
me. Perhaps he felt himself with me.
We shared something. May be the synchrony of heartbeat. May be the
resonance of past life.
He would sing to me. His voice, in all its brilliance and spectrum, pulled
the strings of peace and symphony in my heart.
The background score of his songs masked the mindless chaos of
existence and was the element of endurance.
We would stare at the abyss of horizon for endless hours. Just feeling
the oneness, just feeling the kinematic of abstract love.
That recharged his soul and renovated mine.
At times I would pour my heart out to him. He listened with intense
understanding. One flutter of his wings would ebb away the floods of
cluttered emotions.
His mere quiescent presence enlightened and enriched the very
quintessence of life.
At times “my robin” emptied the basket of his struggles and sorrows,
the encountered crescents and furrows. What carved his withered
feathers and what smoothed his roughened spirit.
I saw him basking in the glory of triumph and eminence, while also
wallow in humbleness and acceptance.
The rainbow of his charisma had more colors to it and the austerity of
his character had no spatter on it.
It was a nexus of sentiments that enchanted us; the gravity of
affection that entrapped us; the passion for life that enchained us.
The time frame had changed its dimensions; few moments of
rendezvous were endless hours of fulfillment.
He was an oasis of serenity in the desert of turmoil and clamor to my
heart; I was the haven of nurturing love and fortitude for his soul.
That friendship omitted the years we aged; caressed the sore spots of
heart; healed the bruises of soul.
That secure blanket was wrapped tightly around; was too good to be
true; was too fragile to last; was too ethereal to be real.
One day he flew back never to return; his eyes said goodbye; his song
screamed farewell; his aggression meant egression.
It was time to be in his nest; it was time to be for those who were a
part of his life; it was time to fulfill the commitments.
He had lives to cater; he had dreams to realize; he had promises to
keep.
He couldn’t stay longer; he couldn’t wait further; he couldn’t live
farther.
I still wait for “my robin” every single day; I still put fodder in the
feeder for him; I still strain to hear his songs.
I know he won’t come; I know he can’t come; but that glimmer of hope
never fades…I still search him in every robin I see.
My Robin flew away…
The world is still the same,
But the dusky dawn has no colors; the violaceous twilight is gloomy
blue; the rainbow has greyed.
There is no fluttering of wings; there is no melody of love; there is no
illuminating chatter.
The tranquility is lost in the forest of turbulence; the sanity is blown
away by hurricane of bereavement; the stability is shaken by the
tremors of that binding cord that tied us.
My Robin flew away…
The time has changed its dimensions again. Every moment lasts till
eternity; the life around is in standstill trance.
The path ahead is teary blur; dreams now are directionless compass;
the ground under my feet is no more gravitating.
There is no lighthouse of inspiration; the fogginess of pain encroaches
my essence; the vacuum of something amiss consumes my spirit.

Image
My Robin flew away…
But I ll keep him alive in the world around me; I ll keep the memoirs of
our bond carved on the walls of my heart.
But I ll keep the aroma of his beauty perfumed in the air I breathe.
The robustness we generated can’t go in vain; the music we created
can’t be unsung; the crevices we filled can’t be cracked.
My Robin flew away…
But I ll fill the feeder with affection and strength in case he returns
to refuel…
But what we journeyed together has left its trail; I ll pick the thorns
of it in case he returns to travel…
But I ll light my porch with fireflies of love and warmth, in case he
returns to enlighten…
My Robin flew away…
But I ll glorify the walls with the buds of homeliness in case he revisits
to nest…
But I ll fill the air with the welcoming music, in case he returns to
retreat…
But I ll create the hall of fame with the chroma of his grandeur, in
case he returns to enliven…
But I ll clear the sky he flies, of its cloudy debris, in case he returns
to escape…
My Robin flew away…
I wish for that one glimpse of soulful eyes,
I wish for that one feel of fluttering wings,
I wish for that one sound of hymn-like melody,
I yearn for that one moment of life…
My Robin flew away…
But he caged my heart in his heart forever…
But he spelled out the commandments of odyssey of life for me…
But he embossed the divinity of love on my soul…
My Robin flew away…I wish I could fly to him…

The Epicurean Life

The Epicurean Life


The Epicurean life…


The enigma of life never resolves; the plot becomes thicker and more complicated; developments take you to a free fall…
Will it ever end? Will the awaited culmination ever arrive? Will this chute-the-chute ever come to a halt?
If it’s supposed to be cosmic, why does everything perish? If we are meant to be alone, why are we webbed together?
Are we just spectators? Or we are expected to mold each curve? Does He suggest or it’s His decision? Is the challenge in battling it or accepting the transformation?

Like passing through the darkest forest; starry sky leaves the illusion of light on the delusional trail that you travel. Why hold the steering when we are not driving? If the control is virtual why deceive ourselves? Is it being wise or sheer pessimist?

Why need a purpose? Is it about the chase or entertaining self until the journey ends one day? Why have desires and dreams when it’s all destined? Why believe in yourself when it’s all a mind game?
Great men preached to rise beyond the worldly pleasures. Why save the world then? Why hope and strive for happiness then? Why crave for ties then?

Everyone’s running a rat race; are we even sure what we want? When the race is over; do we even bother to glance at the prize? It gives a frost bite from the ice of their souls. Does any fire of emotions melt them?
Where intensity of passion is comparable to measure of insanity; is it safe to lay your heart? Isn’t it imprudent to have a heart at all?

You land in a strange planet with nothing familiar in your surroundings; even your own breath seems foreign to you, your own soul seem alien to you.
Your eyes see things which your mind doesn’t read; your skin feels feelings which your heart doesn’t follow, your body experiences emotions which your soul doesn’t perceive…
If the essence has a rationale, why not explicate it? If the equations are simple, why complicate it? If we are to abide by the axioms, why entice the heart somewhere else?


If the choice was never ours; why provide with options at all? If the test is endurance; why pray at all? If we are being fathered; why fear at all?
If He designs the life; why create troughs? Why every time plunge us into fire, to learn it’s hot? If commandments are clear, why be ambiguous?

The hope for a miracle, the belief in unknown, the burning flame of life; is it the will to prevail or puerile mulishness?
The smile of triumph is slapped down with a swell of arduousness. Every climb to top is shoved off the cliff to gutters of penance.
When no one hears the cry of longing; why bother being polite? When no one is holding your hand; why worry about bruised knee? When viability is a liability; why beseech His guardianship?

The Epicurean life…Is it a mere austere sentience of chink in our armour, an ivory coat of underlying wreckage, a sand dune ride in amaranthine desert of setback?

 

 

 

 http://tiferetjournal.com/2013/02/14/the-epicurean-life/….publication

 

The Epicurean Life

The Epicurean life…

Image

The enigma of life never resolves; the plot becomes thicker and more complicated; developments take you to a free fall…
Will it ever end? Will the awaited culmination ever arrive? Will this chute-the-chute ever come to a halt? 
If it’s supposed to be cosmic, why does everything perish? If we are meant to be alone, why are we webbed together? 
Are we just spectators? Or we are expected to mold each curve? Does He suggest or it’s His decision? Is the challenge in battling it or accepting the transformation?

Like passing through the darkest forest; starry sky leaves the illusion of light on the delusional trail that you travel. Why hold the steering when we are not driving? If the control is virtual why deceive ourselves? Is it being wise or sheer pessimist? 

Why need a purpose? Is it about the chase or entertaining self until the journey ends one day? Why have desires and dreams when it’s all destined? Why believe in yourself when it’s all a mind game? 
Great men preached to rise beyond the worldly pleasures. Why save the world then? Why hope and strive for happiness then? Why crave for ties then?

Everyone’s running a rat race; are we even sure what we want? When the race is over; do we even bother to glance at the prize? It gives a frost bite from the ice of their souls. Does any fire of emotions melt them? 
Where intensity of passion is comparable to measure of insanity; is it safe to lay your heart? Isn’t it imprudent to have a heart at all? 

You land in a strange planet with nothing familiar in your surroundings; even your own breath seems foreign to you, your own soul seem alien to you. 
Your eyes see things which your mind doesn’t read; your skin feels feelings which your heart doesn’t follow, your body experiences emotions which your soul doesn’t perceive…
If the essence has a rationale, why not explicate it? If the equations are simple, why complicate it? If we are to abide by the axioms, why entice the heart somewhere else? 

If the choice was never ours; why provide with options at all? If the test is endurance; why pray at all? If we are being fathered; why fear at all?
If He designs the life; why create troughs? Why every time plunge us into fire, to learn it’s hot? If commandments are clear, why be ambiguous?

The hope for a miracle, the belief in unknown, the burning flame of life; is it the will to prevail or puerile mulishness? 
The smile of triumph is slapped down with a swell of arduousness. Every climb to top is shoved off the cliff to gutters of penance. 
When no one hears the cry of longing; why bother being polite? When no one is holding your hand; why worry about bruised knee? When viability is a liability; why beseech His guardianship?

The Epicurean life…Is it a mere austere sentience of chink in our armour, an ivory coat of underlying wreckage, a sand dune ride in amaranthine desert of setback?

 

http://tiferetjournal.com/2013/02/14/the-epicurean-life/…..Publication

 

 

Its just an Effort….

Its just an Effort…..

I call it as “An Effort” because everything nowadays is an effort. Working is an effort, sleeping peacefully is an effort, writing is an effort, smiling is an effort in fact breathing is an effort and living is an effort too.

There was a time when I used to be scared of being alone, being in dark night, being dead, not waking up next morning! Now when I lay alone on an empty bed every night, all I am afraid is of living another day, waking up next day alive, facing another hour in life, striving to find some life inside my soul everyday and struggling to find an ounce of joy in world around me. So calling it “An Effort” is an understatement of the century!

 

I would be wrong if I call it a “Writer’s block” for, I am no writer and this is definitely not a block. A block can be overcome, it can be crossed over or you can move around it. But I am facing today is unfathomable, unexplainable, immovable and impenetrable. Its like I am born again but of course with lot of baggage! When we are born, we have no clues about life, days ahead, world around, dreams, plans and hopes. We learn to take baby steps and create a life in our life, we create a bubble around us of a comfort zone, hopes and aspirations. But when we are born, we have no baggage of remorse, repentance, pain, sheer sadness and over powering hopelessness. So I say, I am born again with a baggage which seems heavier than my heart and soul can bear.

Now I am surrounded by a bubble of rage, hurt, abandonment and numbness. There is no fear of unknown now, there is no anticipation of losing anything, there is no anxiety of future. The castle of life is already powdered to dust, which now can never be renovated, restored or rebuilt. What remains is, sand dunes of lost life, crushed dreams and broken hearts.  I am surrounded by Amy clean silence of loneliness and defeat.

When the noise is too loud, all you can hear is silence, a dead silence. Similarly when the pain in unfathomable, all you can feel is numbness. It is exactly like falling hard in zero gravity, you are nowhere, you are thrown to nothing, you will crash onto nothing.

Life is a long journey now which I, now know for sure, do not drive. The path holds no charm, the diversions are time waste, the world around is unappealing. The journey needs to be completed irrespective of my willingness, interests or desires. The distance needs to be covered, the goal or destination must be reached; so be it. Whatever happens on the way holds minuscule meaning to me. The only duty is to breathe till someone, some power wants it otherwise. The lesson of “Giving up” came clearly across. You give up in spite of every atom in you wants to fight it; you let lose in spite of every ounce of your being wants to fist it tight; you surrender and succumb to whatever is happening around you because that is the only way which will lessen your pain, help you face the sheer powerlessness, unburden you of the guilt on your soul.

There is no such thing as healing; it is learning to live or rather exist with the wounds, someday. So I call it “An Effort”!

 

Its just an Effort….

I call it as “An Effort” because everything nowadays is an effort. Working is an effort, sleeping peacefully is an effort, writing is an effort, smiling is an effort in fact breathing is an effort and living is an effort too.
There was a time when I used to be scared of being alone, being in dark night, being dead, not waking up next morning! Now when I lay alone on an empty bed every night, all I am afraid is of living another day, waking up next day alive, facing another hour in life, striving to find some life inside my soul everyday and struggling to find an ounce of joy in world around me. So calling it “An Effort” is an understatement of the century!

I would be wrong if I call it a “Writer’s block” for, I am no writer and this is definitely not a block. A block can be overcome, it can be crossed over or you can move around it. But I am facing today is unfathomable, unexplainable, immovable and impenetrable. Its like I am born again but of course with lot of baggage! When we are born, we have no clues about life, days ahead, world around, dreams, plans and hopes. We learn to take baby steps and create a life in our life, we create a bubble around us of a comfort zone, hopes and aspirations. But when we are born, we have no baggage of remorse, repentance, pain, sheer sadness and over powering hopelessness. So I say, I am born again with a baggage which seems heavier than my heart and soul can bear.
Now I am surrounded by a bubble of rage, hurt, abandonment and numbness. There is no fear of unknown now, there is no anticipation of losing anything, there is no anxiety of future. The castle of life is already powdered to dust, which now can never be renovated, restored or rebuilt. What remains is, sand dunes of lost life, crushed dreams and broken hearts. I am surrounded by Amy clean silence of loneliness and defeat.

ImageWhen the noise is too loud, all you can hear is silence, a dead silence. Similarly when the pain in unfathomable, all you can feel is numbness. It is exactly like falling hard in zero gravity, you are nowhere, you are thrown to nothing, you will crash onto nothing.

Life is a long journey which I, now know for sure, do not drive. The path holds no charm, the diversions are time waste, the world around is unappealing. The journey needs to be completed irrespective of my willingness, interests or desires. The distance needs to be covered, the goal or destination must be reached; so be it. Whatever happens on the way holds minuscule meaning to me. The only duty is to breathe till someone, some power wants it otherwise. The lesson of “Giving up” came clearly across. You give up in spite of every atom in you wants to fight it; you let lose in spite of every ounce of your being wants to fist it tight; you surrender and succumb to whatever is happening around you because that is the only way which will lessen your pain, help you face the sheer powerlessness, unburden you of the guilt on your soul.

There is no such thing as healing; it is learning to live or rather exist with those wounds someday. So I call it an “effort”.