First blog post

This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.

post

Advertisements

I Feel Grey

I constantly aware of an absence. Each and every thing i write is revolve around that absence.

 Absence may be an inactive sadness or an indolent wish. Some how it triggers my  senses and live again with the bygone. The presence of absence control me as long as it stays as a secret. It’s dark energy galvanize me at times. Thus we co-exist in peace.. 

 I love to be in this alternate reality. No season getting colder here… No sun is ruling here.. I feel grey!! Depression is torn on my table, half-attended. 

“No matter where I wander I’m still haunted by your name

The portrait of your beauty stays the same

Standing by the ocean wondering where you’ve gone

If you’ll return again

Where is the ring I gave to Nancy Spain?”

– Christy Moore [Nancy Spain]

My Obnoxious Calmness

Life happen without warning, without rhyme or reason. We all lock on to people. Some… dearest. 

In a less beautiful and meaningful vein, she reminds me our love. Hair touching and those compliments. Those days we had was zero gravity.

   Sometimes.. you need a cup of solitude just to take a breathe, just to take a nap or to read a good thought. We find same love. Then we use our devotion to fuel the sick mind-games. But still we both, candid.

   We are unseen, yet connected by same melting sky. We still share same rain, we have cried over the same book. I simply watch my world destroyed and created and destroyed again!

   I want to know when you last cried? and why? I want to know what drives you now? I want know why you chose to kiss me out of seven billion people in the planet?, I never asked. In the end i can only smile at nothing.. 

          In a world of much love-less labour, I find myself as most unlovable!

Man who get hundred butterflies

He love pink. Her pink lips. Even when her upper lip  partially kiss and suck her lower lip, her eyes pretend to be asking a normal question. 

“What ?” He exclaimed. 

Even though he want to be serious on that exclamation, he can’t prevent a stupid smile leaking out of the corner.                            She took her face away. Then gazed at him. Eyes locked. Silence proposed. 

“I need to go” she smiled. 

He doesn’t replied. She started walking, slowly vanishes.. slowly.. from his sight. The weather is not so romantic; still he used to get hundred butterflies.

Just like his girl, yesterday’s moon also vanishes then, and ‘a grand dream‘ shattered!!

The  phrase, of course, is “I love you”. Love has become such a complex emotion to the extent of which we are very much uncertain what it truely signifies and when it is a real thing. 

The common view is that love is a “feeling”, I think it is not. The passion suffered by teenagers and writers of romantic lyrics that felt so painfully are may not love. But’…  it is more than something if not returned, will make you as a most miserable person in the earth. 

“Life is not always a co-authored work” she said. She is my realm of cause. I chose to be with her. Good, bad or indifferent; she induces on me. I was actually a whirling mass of stupid electrons, it is her “I AMness” that magnetizes me. Some times i just talk trash, but she tell me to be quiet. She is so peacefull… unlike any other possible unity.

  “ so ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself “

                             -Ephesians [5:28]

                 Once asleep, man has no freedom of choise. Sleep is a feeling of the wish full filled. Night after night, we live hundred winters rich in love.. 

Mystikos: Initiatory rites of the pagan mysteries

By control of feeling is not meant restraint or supression of your feeling, but’ rather the deciplining of self to imagine and entertain such feeling as contribute to your happiness “

                          – Neville Goddard

      It is so beautiful to think about my people and how we belive the earth is made. Everything is not changed… still i die away. 

      I belive in hundred things; hundred things that rest of world never admit. Somewhat a vagabond with loose morals. In the virtue of thoughts, i hate being a household for too long. But i wont search my soul in the land of mandakini. It is not a predestined fate, but my un-answered wish. No more aspirin. No more exorcism. Just a female consciousness. 

           “ Thou art all fair,my love;                                        there is no spot in thee ”                                           – Song of Solomon [ 4:7 ]       

                    The Cristephor columbus followed  a hunch. When he is north, poise magnetizes!!