The Story Of The Sand

Name:
Location: India

I traverse passages through time..through realms of uncertainty..I seek not the absolute...for what am I?...a grain of dust..a reservoir of wanderlust...peering through a delusional mirage called time...into an ever changing constant called life...not much then do I do...but 'observe'...

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Post Delhi - The dream continues...

19/07/07
The dream continues.. its act of suspension.. that weaves the vertical rays of the sun into a spectacular dream carpet.. luring me into the lonely and doomed alleys of despair with its paradoxically mystic enrapturing presence. I picture a void in space, filled with the sound of silence, lit by the lights of a thousand beacons far away, a light that plays hide and seek with the shadows of hope. I picture you, leaning against a man-made barrier separating sea from land, lost in your happiness, a squint and smile projecting the effect, the eyes, talking through their gleam and content, as if they too, enjoying the moment, are suspended somewhere in this void that exists in eternity. I look at them, and I feel the shadows of hope drawing me closer to your spirit, your spirit, which makes me forget the demons of reality and move closer to a state of divine numbness. And yet, it is this divide of hope, that at once makes me feel lonely and lost. It seems I can never let go of the urge to keep staring at you, hoping hopelessly for a moment of eternal bliss, for a kiss that would fill me with warmth and life, even if for a moment, for the idea of what it would be to make love to you, to cross over a yet to be completed bridge leading to a heaven in the middle of nowhere, and it all seems so surreal, just for the moment.. and I so wish I was only destined to live as long as the moment.

Post Delhi - Illusion -> Desperation -> Hope

07/07/07
Hmm.. this is one of those perfectly screwed up days that begin on a not so dissimilar note. After an illusionary dream start to my return to home, fuelled mainly by some profound parting memories and the sense of accomplishment of some praiseworthy endeavor, I started to gradually realize that some things, some habits and definitely some attitudes, never really do change. This whole talk about positive energy and determination and the willingness to commit seems great, and this time I felt things were really happening, only thing being they were not as happening as they seemed. I mean, all I have been able to do is draw up some crooked explanation for my irate psychotic mood swings and believe in the fact that all of it is normal, coz all one needs to do is to believe in the ‘seasons’ theory, which is somewhat akin to the cyclical reoccurrence of happiness and gloominess, honey and shit. So, I have no manners. So, I am rude in a velvety sort of way. So, I just don’t know how to nail opportunities. So, there is still a far way to go for me to call myself determined. And even worse is the fact that I now seem to have developed this strange fascination for an intimate fantasy that is, at the end of the day, just a hopeless fantasy. The last thing I need is for someone to certify I am psychotic. I am scared, I really am. Getting rid of the worthless tag was hard enough, now I have to escape the ever meandering tags of ‘self-destructive’ and ‘dangerously and insanely moody’ and ‘spoilt, unkempt kiddo’, oh I so hate that last tag. I have been a highly irresponsible and callous individual throughout my life, and although I realized it, I never could work towards a proper solution. Why am I saying this? I know fully well that this attitude is going to screw my life at times when I least expect it or would want it to. I am scared, hell I am scared, but I can’t stall my steps just because I am scared. No, that would be no less than surrender. My life, which has only assumed its significance in bits and pieces, would then stop delivering those highly hopeful chunks of brilliance. I’ve got to keep believing in my dreams, my abilities, my vision, and I have to keep moving however slowly, even if half the world keeps screaming that I am this worthless good for nothing who has been wedded to self destructive forces. I’ve got to hang on. I can't stop!

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Delhi Files 3 - Offering a dream to a tender heart..

30/06/07

Where do I begin from? Yes, I feel a little jittery. The tremble, the nervousness, the excitement, it’s all there. I can make out no beginning point. I know there is no ending point. All I can feel is, for the first time, a strong resonant force, which draws me strongly to its warm breath like a oasis doth draw a thirsty wanderer. I marvel at the presence of a soul so different, yet so alike me. I set my eyes upon a pair of eyes, wet enough to drown my world, and wide enough to see through it completely. I feel their pain, I understand their curiosity, and I know their quest for a meaning hidden somewhere in the forest of life. This sudden wave of tenderness sweeps through my heart into my eyes, and I know I want to kiss those eyes. I want my lips to warm them, I want to keep wiping every tear that flows out of them, so that not a chance do they get to see their own tears, for I fear that sight would make them shut themselves to the wonders of this world. I don’t want their sensitivity to come in the way of their curiosity. They are beautiful, and I want to forget all my agnosticism and pray, so that their beauty never withers. I know I sound rather hopeless and lost, but that’s how the dice has always rolled for me. The wanderer in me has yet again, seen a dream, so tender, so beautiful. He knows it’s not meant to last, but he wants to live it, as long as it exists. He knows the pain will be enormous, but then, does he really give himself a choice?

Delhi Files 2 - The journey from abstraction to meaning

29/06/07

The journey from abstraction to meaning, is one that would require a right mix of soul, focus and regimentation. I continue to falter in this journey I have undertaken, and every time I do, I stop and wonder. Where do I lie, I know not. What have I learnt, what have I unlearnt, I know, but I am not quite sure. The only thing I see and hold dear to myself is my earnestness, my objectivity, my tendency to respond and conform only to my heart. I’ve always spoken at length about the importance of pain in life, the need to continuously hurl oneself through emotional turbulences, so that the soul grows in experience and wisdom and the visual aura of the soul extends itself through the eyes of others. The words seem profound, but just how easy is this path? It isn’t, there isn’t a chance in the world that’s going to make it easy. Living through continuous shadows of despair and hope takes it toll on almost every other aspect of life. The feeling of incapacitation and loneliness is so severe at times, that all sense of time, work and motion dissolves into nothingness. Objectivity and sensitivity clash on a battleground that would yield no winner. It is a classic case of principle colliding with reality, when the earnestness to be true to yourself interferes with your daily life, making you feel like a complete failure, both on the physical and metaphysical front. So, what does one do? I am as clueless as can be, and no, don’t expect a conclusive decision from me. I thrive on the existence of ambiguity and choice. Maybe there’s just one thing I can say. In this strange undefined quest we all have embarked upon, the real jewels are those moments in life which gift us with new perceptions and different ways of looking at apparently mundane things. Maybe it’s just a matter of hanging on, of living a life, no matter how screwed up the situation is. I envy those who do not think too much. They lead much happier lives, because although they may not know too much about what’s happening to them, they do know that they have to keep on living. It’s very simple I guess, to keep learning through experiences. Not an easy thing to do when in despair, but then, even that pain is an experience. There is no right or wrong path, no definite answer, the pain is as beautiful as the smile. To understand it though, you have to feel it, you have to live it. To quote a dear friend – “So, u don’t understand life? Good for u.”

Delhi Files 1 - Old musings on truth and wanderer souls

22/06/07

Truth…reality.. the real thing.. the true enlightenment.. awareness of self.. what is this thing that some people often end up spending a lifetime in search of. I am not here to answer any specific query with regards to spirituality and inner divinity.. the various ideas and opinions can be found in any text. I look for this wanderer spirit in people.. people who are not satisfied with conformity..people who possess an everlasting spirit of enquiry.. people who dream.. people who seek a vision.. people who wish to spend their lives exploring and discovering the world around them.. all in a bid to come closer to themselves.
This spirit exists in everyone of us. Too bad, most of us choose to lock it inside some dusty closet inside the heart, because Mama said the foxes would eat us if we did something ‘out of order’. I am trying hard to keep this spirit in me alive, in spite of all odds.. and I feel a strong connect with the world whenever I find someone like me.. trying to find his or her way through this forest of forbidden mysteries called life..someone who has set the wanderer inside free. I don’t know how to describe the feeling.. inquisitiveness.. excitement.. love.. no word seems to fit the bracket. All I know is that this feeling is rare.. and it makes me feel strangely connected to the world around me.. through that person.