Sometimes we forget the simple joys of life. It takes 44 muscles to frown at someone who has annoyed you. But it takes only 4 muscles to slap the BASTARD…!!!
The renditions of one’s soul are boundless. Sometimes it’s a starchy old thing and sometimes as nouveau as the first rains of summer. But I am yet to figure out what is my soul made up of. Sometimes I do things that would even amaze a saint and sometimes I do things that would make a pirate feel proud. I can’t handle the dilemma and the dichotomy that my soul presents in front of me everyday… today there might be a glorious sunrise in my soul with bright yellow beams shining all over and tomorrow it would be murky and evil. Sometimes I am scared of myself and sometimes I can’t get enough of myself. I wish I could just runaway from it but it’s such an integral part of my being that it refuses to leave me…even for a moment… I was always searching for that perfect companionship all my life where I am not judged because of my words or actions but I am loved and respected for the same… sadly, little did I realise that I wasn’t going to get what I want. That’s when in the tandem of things I feel that my soul is heroically lost and then heroically found in the later moments of life…
Another day, another week, another month is here. Bob Dylan is still crooning somewhere. He is telling me that I believe in you. I have now gone back to the old days of thinking about people who are not really there. Sometimes I feel so disenchanted with life, what is the meaning of all this? I live, and then I die, and everything in between, does it really matter. So much pain, so much suffering, so much sadness, reaching out for a truth that must not exist. Everything is reeking of rot, it seems sometimes like everything is dead and we are only believing it all to be real. I close my eyes and rise above my little space, above, and suddenly I can see the land getting farther away from me, my little space getting enmeshed with more and more of sameness. There is no novelty left in anything, nothing seems to be fresh- we are all the same, mirror reflections of each other, only believing to be different. And yet knowing we aren’t. After all this I allow myself to be carried away by everything that is putrid and decaying. Why can I not spread more love? More laughter? More happiness? I too have become a cog in the wheel churning out more and more nonsense feeling satisfied with the selfishness of the self, of all that I think is mine. But nothing here is really mine. I own nothing, I only have something for rent, for sometime and one day everything is washed away back to shores from where they come. I feel torn apart, torn apart from the two visions I see ahead of me, the one that I see all around, of money of the riches that even I aspire to achieve someday maybe, and then there is the one that sacrifices all that for something much greater, more divine. I don’t believe in God, I don’t know if there is God. if it matters or not whether i do or not, but what about the now, the now that is screaming out for help, that is standing ahead of me with its arms outstretched begging for help, I want to reach out, spread some love, some happiness. All changes begin from the self I think, maybe if I change myself bit by bit, the world around me will also begin to change, and I shall see it again in all its beauty and splendor. Embrace life, embrace love.
Dear Elf,
I did watch the movie today, it is called 21 grams of course, I smiled… I also read and reread the poem that is recited in it, the one by Eugenio Montejo… It goes like this-
The earth turned to bring us closer,
it spun on itself and within us,
and finally joined us together in this dream
as written in the Symposium.
Nights passed by, snowfalls and solstices;
time passed in minutes and millennia.
An ox cart that was on its way to Nineveh arrived in Nebraska
A rooster was singing some distance from the world,
in one of the thousand pre-lives of our fathers.
The earth was spinning with its music
carrying us on board;
it didn’t stop turning a single moment
as if so much love, so much that’s miraculous
was only an adagio written long ago
in the Symposium’s score.
Translated by Peter Boyle
how strange it is? Isn’t it? It took so many co-incidences for us to meet, and so many more for us not to, before. Before, when there was still time. What is co-incidence after all? It is a chance meeting of two events, people; they happen at the same moment and everything changes. So many might have occurred for us to meet, don’t your think so? They say, everyone deserves a second chance… Why can’t I have one more? Sometimes, I think I had mine, and I let it go, I gave it up, long back, when nothing was as it is now.
I want to see you happy; maybe you won’t be happy with me… But, are you happy now? Are you?
Love,
A
Dear Elf,
There is something that I have to tell you since last week. I wish we would have sat by that rivulet and seen the purple dusk but I guess our muddy humdrum lives aren’t allowing us to do so. The sky is thick with smoke and the brook has dried, leaving us all high and low at the same time. But it’s ok; for I know that the sun will again rise tomorrow and have a glorious dusk waiting for us. How optimistic, am I not?
You remember, those tiny bottles hanging in your house? Well, I was thinking about them on Sunday evening while having my staple dinner of wine and prawns. I think they are sort of cute. Remind me to take one of them with me next time when I come to visit you but promise me you will not get mad if I break them and hurt myself deliberately.
Those pebbles that hurt me while I was somersaulting in your poppy fields have left tiny scars over my face. Whenever I smile at myself in the mirror, I see tiny dimples dancing on my rosy cheeks. Thanks for pushing me off the cliff; I wouldn’t look this pretty and attractive otherwise.
That sunlight kissed windows weren’t that bad. All you need to do is just shut your eyes and the rays will cease to enter your soul. I guess, sometimes sunshine does burn your life away.
Ah, I forgot to mention that stairway to heaven. Yes, I agree that it did take me to heaven but I guess not for long because the sunbeams killed the glory in my head and had me burning all over in pain. But don’t you worry anymore, for the pain has ceased to exist in my heart and soul. I am as cold and as white as ever. We can climb those stairs again and probably stare at stars together and not face sunbeams all over.
Those chocolate muffins weren’t that bad either. They were a little burnt though. Tell Sandy who runs your bakery to go easy on the oven temperatures next time. Those cute buttercups can be made a little soft and pleasant. I can go and help him next time you decide to bake some blueberry muffins for your grandma.
Oh, do you remember that blue-eyed boy who crossed me in the elevators? Well, he winked at me before leaving. But I don’t want you to get mad at him and give him a black eye because men like him can not go beyond winking. Next time, be calm and tranquil and do exactly as I say for I might tell you to kill him and not just give him a black eye.
Love,
A
Dear Miko,
I suppose you’ll never get the chance to read this, and maybe I will never get to even tell you that inspite of the slight nature of our acquaintance, you have in some strange way touched my heart. I really do not know what first drew me to you, I suppose I have always been attracted to eccentric people and you have been just that, the little that we know of you. I liked that you love to walk, that you are tall and lanky, and a little weird, quiet and withdrawn, maybe shy, and so very proper and polite. You inspired me to read a little more, work a little harder on my English; listen to that extra bit of music, love my Ipod even more, read up a little more on the sixties and the seventies and so on. I loved that you made me listen to Harry Belafonte, Miles and told me about the bands, Bread and Cream. I love The Bread, by the way.
Life on a trip revolves around some very simple things for me. I wish I could tear you away from the humdrum of class, professors and friends and take you to Marine Drive once again to watch the sun set a few more times. I have always thought it a miracle that the sun would set the same time for ever and ever. I want to steal a little bit of that beauty and keep it in my heart. It is like tearing a small piece of bread from a loaf when you are hungry, there maybe many more loaves but this one particular one would always have that one bite off it. I suppose I make little sense.
I had this dream the other night, where we sat side by side facing an “electric blue” river and what seemed like the ruins of Guatemala, and certain specimens of big horned deer who miraculously changed to people right before my eyes. When this happened you just put your arm around my waist and pulled me close and kissed me gently on my cheek and softly said: what a dangerous t-shirt… ! (referring to the people I thought were deer but were actually dressed in some sort of costume possibly) All this was very nice and I felt extraordinarily close to you. For a long time after I woke I shut my mind to the clutter of the outside world and hugged onto my dream like a precious secret till slowly its sensuality began to wane.
I don’t know what this year holds for me, but of all the things that I dearly wish for, I would certainly like to wish to get to know you a little better, spend some more time with you and maybe, even get a chance to call you this – “Miko”.
Love,
A
Something that I had read sometime back…
It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn’t know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.
You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren’t exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don’t recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren’t really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.
You look at your job… and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.
Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn’t. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.
You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.
You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you’re doing this because you know that you aren’t a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself… and while winning the race would be great, right now you’d just like to be a contender!
What you may not realize is that every one reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. Send this to your twenty-something friends… maybe it will help someone feel like they aren’t alone in their state of confusion…
We call it the “Quarter-life Crisis.”
Dear Homeless Man,
I hope your tap-dancing lessons are going well! I found out today that you have a twin brother, who looks exactly like you. Does he have the same Nike Shoes as you? If so, I think I may always think you are the same person. Sorry for the confusion, no wonder you looked at me like I was the crazy one when I asked you if you ever got a new oar.
I saw you and your brother fighting today. It saddened me deeply – families are the most important people in your life. Perhaps you were fighting over a female? Trust me, that bong woman who yells at people on patios and tries to grab their food is not worth a family feud.
Sure, if she stopped doing the crack and brushed her hair a little she could be pretty. If she ate something she could even be quite lovely but I’m sure there are more ladies for you two to deal with? I thought I’d let you know that that new wave you are doing with your hair? Very Donald-Trumpesque! Dress for success they say!
Kudo! 
Alice
Pungent madness…
Sudden theories of anger…
Recluse of pain…
Inertia in thoughts…
Abrupt pockets of sunshine…
Dark shadows of soul…
Bigotry thoughts…
Screaming lies…
Sardonic laughter…
Derisive tears…
Glimmering smiles…
Soulful afterglow…
Lonely walks…
Sorry cries…
Willful psychosis…
Sparks of fire…
Raging retrospection…
Inherent truth…
Bruised blues…
Sweaty palms…
Anorexic feet…
Panging pain…
Crushed emotions…
Bittersweet moonlight…
Howling hormones…
Haunting melodies…
Crucifying past…
Surreal light…
I looked for it, but I could not find it,
I called for it, but then I quit.
For days and nights I wished for its presence,
and waited in the dark, engulfed in silence.
I tried so hard to let it come,
even turned into a slave, for I could not run.
Why can’t they see that I am a human and must be treated like one too,
I have changed my life, looks, attitude, and still don’t know what to do.
I am no longer who I used to be,
for my heart is scratched and hate is all I can see.
My mind hurts from the pain I have lived with,
my eyes rain harsh tears that plead for death, and I am losing faith.
I begged for them to show me that they at least care,
but their hate, torment, and torture are all they can share.
My heart is bleeding, my mind dissolving, and my soul weeping.
And still, I have not received what I wish for I am still waiting.
My reflection looks back at me brutalized,
for it too has felt the torture of the world through my eyes.
Why is it that I have been chosen by all,
to be scorned, neglected, and wait for death’s call?
My dreams even show me in a terrible state,
for the rest of my life I know I just can’t wait.
My time is running out, and my spirit is dying.
So please, give it to me before I stop trying.
I can’t wait anymore for those around to show me,
that I can be respected, and loved for all to see.
I am human and have a soul,
one that should be loved and cared by all.
