Pause Button

The flow of life doesn’t have a pause button. Even when the corona virus pandemic has virtually stopped life as it is known, we are not just sitting and staring at space, are we? Those who are, may be heavily dope. The pause button doesn’t exist. New habits are formed, new routine is set, new life is bred.

Things I have done to breed new life:

Plant seeds, cut veggies, all in food and soil mediums. The results have been interesting. Sprouts have appeared, some died and some still stand strong. I almost communicate with them and sense their growth underground.

Tried to create employment or work-projects online. Interactions have given me more reasons for resolutions and reservations. My relationship with the online world doesn’t stabilise into a transparent earning-worthy venture.

Day-dream less and less, sleep more n more. Frustrations built up over the years are best converted into bitter bile for better digestion.

Is it a sin to sin?

Often I ask my soul whether it is real? I mean, imagined guilt is the soul’s heaviness. Otherwise any punishment feels unjustified. SO to sin we must go through certain injustice that made us adamant to have our way by hook or crook. Losing patience and committing hara-kiri is the consequence of a conundrum of events , emotions and feedback. Sometimes too much positive feedback can make our ego bloated and give strength to our desire to commit sin. Alternately negative feedback could also encourage to commit self-harm of some sort or burst into that one moment of insanity that destroys all the patience you have practised and all the meditation you have gulped down your breath.

Is it a sin to sin?

Sin itself is the answer.

The outrage it creates is the other people’s crying need to sin addressing itself, given that opportunity to nail a person guilty with their collective impotent rage of not being able to sin.

The sin if harmful to one person, that person be alive to judge and slap a case of injustice then the sinner or offender has a right to argue his case with the victim to settle the sense of injustice into some sort of solution that makes the sin irrelevant for both.

Sins that involve matters of life and death have to serve those affected by the death positively.

Third party involvement such as courts and judges and advocates offer nothing but the same yet it gives the sinner no chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the offended. I think that is cruel. The sinner must be given an ability to respond in regret and guilt. The action of regret, if allowed, could lessen the occurrence of the sin.

A sense of something new

A sense of something new is the sense of movement, of a beginning, of all that weathers seeing a change instead of death, of newness motivating life to jump into its being with vigour of existence. Such is the texture of something new, such is its perfume, of such quality is its aura that everything odd and old brightens up with their own memory of having been new and wanted. That is why we must shop. Exactly why we must learn new things. Not to forget look at new places, people and sights. Taste new food, adopt a new style. Bring in an infant into this world.

Do generate new sensations in each other with words, touch and gestures. Such is the heroism in creating a sense of something new. Why experiment? Why innovate? Why invent? Why discover? Why laugh? Ok, laughter hasn’t got anything to do with a sense of something new but laughter arises from the depths of that effort that brought something new into existence, experience and memory.

We exist because of renewal. Think about it, life is in renewal…of cells, of leaves, of wind, of water, of mineral, of soil, of everything that can have a second chance at creation. Second chances are for the pro-life people who wouldn’t stop even at the prospect of prostituting away their soul so that life could feel that new sensation that assures continuity. Bartering away dreams for the dreary, exchanging glitter for dirt, giving away grand for good, those who can’t they beg for money, beg for shelter, beg for food and assume that such basic rights will be given by those who could give any of it.

I was granted this grandness in thought by someone who inspired me. My gratitude alone cannot bring coolness to my mind. The seeking of that guru, who brought this sort of kindness into my words, deserves the world in my individual opinion but what I can give him or her is words, prayers, feeling of admiration and gratitude. When I see that muse face to face, I know that I will be giving anything to see them feel like smiling at the world again. Because they are the suns that light up my inner world, their smiles would keep my world fertile, my creativity constant and like a moon, I may always start them on a quest, for grandness, greatness and power. And if they took me along I would lead them to glory, as a foot soldier keep the movement going, because participation in the quest for greatness and grandness is no sin. Especially if it is of the kind where life is haloed affectionately.

An overburdened beast travelling in the space

An overburdened beast

Hanging on for dear life and damn death

calls from wild singing

of forefather’s fears and futuristic vibes

There, there, go slow my friend

from Devil’s abode to God’s kindness

where efforts will pay fruits

as you slumber

such is the rest you are provided

in peace

Yet, the Devil might show up

might take your hand and waltz

might make you dream of cows and singing bells

the dream you abandoned

in favour of being The God’s light

The Musk of rain, the pit-stop of knowledge

my dear muse, is only but

your own making, be alive , bedazzle

take along my casket of wine

drag on it when divine!

I fall into the luxury trap of poetry often, oftentimes it is a lap for my baby-mind, a puppet-body for its caress and it dances to its rhythm like it has seen God and yet, the face of human is more alight. Such is poetry’s defiance, it protests even when the heaven has descended on its head, it wants an equal piece for every mind that is curious. Alas!, but that’s so childish and batty. A batty child throwing a tantrum for sleep?

Inflammatory thoughts and actions

Everyone has them…thoughts that overwhelm with sadness, thoughts that prick the mind like a hundred thorns, actions that cut the silence like a knife, actions that creep on you like a thick vine and suffocate.

Mine are varied, but anything that bespoke of love that was, is the most inflammatory thought-provoking feeling. I cut it short immediately nowadays.So that the inflammation doesn’t take roots and make my life unsatisfactory.

Besides that:

There is the insulting words with which someobody hurts or with which I hurt somebody.

There is the thought of living the rest of the life like a hermit sans passion or emotion.

There is the action of doing work I don’t enjoy or don’t do well while not being able to do some work I love.

There is the thought of past rudeness or courage that caused no result in the positive.

There is the cause and effect of boredom.

There is dream that has seven colours and how I could make them come true if I only tried when I don’t put an effort towards it.

Oh! Isn’t that plenty enough to make some poison in my blood? Have to transfuse my blood with new life. this can’t go on.

I guess writing will be therapeutic and would serve as the vessel for new life to be infused with vibrant flow.

Mad or what?

This is a common refrain used by English speaking junta in my community around India. Mad or what? It is a dear way of saying don’t be silly.

This is what I ask myself now, ever since I started accepting my madness. One prime reason I have this friendly banter with myself is because I have realized how madness can steer the mind towards crime; and the best way to avoid it is by turning it all into a friendly banter, thus dusting off the dirt off the mind.

Pleasantry of mind is cultivated by self appreciation and self-acknowledgement. One must acknowledge one’s worst fears if one can’t overcome it. For eg. skiing on an icy slope maybe your worst adventure sport fear but one has either to do it and overcome or accept and then move on believing that you will never go out there and do it(And it is no big deal).

In a queer state of mind one has to constantly press upon one’s mind the need to veer off the mainstream and go ahead and jump off the cliff of sanity once in a while. But ensuring a safety net, if not an option then keep it dramatic and humorous. Avoid the pitfall of violence and anger.

You are very likely to meet another who is madder still. Therefore, it is doubly necessary that you don’t bounce off your madness off each other. Such a mistake will blow your minds by giving the high of having found another person who is bonkers but brainy and free to do his will. If you have to coalesce your mind with such a person then the best bet would be to follow a hobby, start a non-profit project, engage in charity either fund raising or random acts of kindness, write about issues as an arm chair activist, do social media awareness and such.

Mad or what? I mean, you really think there is a map for mad people to follow to come out winners? Really, relax, the sane have a very very, very ,very….n number of very times difficulty accepting that madness can be good. Simply, good. As for successful, well, you know it is comparable to asking for the moon. The social fabric, and the whole system has to be overwhelmed and upheaved before you can start your success story from scratch. It is that difficult. Accept it but for good causes, this difficult proposition could become just a big challenge. And then, madness might get rewarding in terms of revenue flowing in.

Music is soul balm

When the stresses and pain o life overwhelms us, a continuous string of songs help alleviate our sufferings. It is in the listening and absorption that hormones dance to tunes that stimulates life in the body to a more accepting condition of existence.

It works through the ears and rests the eyes and other sense organs. It has a strange way of growing on you. Like a bunch of vines on a tree trunk.

But when the pain is acute songs may cause distress. Chronic pain responds best to music.


Finally, I have concluded that my country is not worth the pain that I have endured to keep its flag flying high. It is a mess here. You try and try to make people see sense but they just rebel more and more to become senseless rebels. It is upto them to fight climate change . I have educated them well enough, hopefully. When Nature gives everything free such as sunlight, wind, water, food then I too have distributed my enlightenment for free too. I don’t know how else I could have upheld the integrity of nature.