Start off

A really really long time. Though Internet and soft screen has captivated the leisure of a common man making him occupied for at least 12-14 hours whether it is at work or at home, we still cringe for a pen and paper for a rich outflow of thoughts that still hesitate to get typed on the screen. But how often do we pick up a pen to fill at least one page with some conventional chattering of mind. At least I confess that have become too weak or I can say departed. Even it seems tiresome to think what might be the reason behind this chronic death of expression that used to be very fluent and ever ready to get inked. Don't I have time? I think I have. Don't I have urge? I think I have that too then what is the reason that I keep on procrastinating my stuffs in view of nothing.At the end of everyday if I calculate what effective(in my terms of course) have I done, I Often remain answer less. I know that my mind spins a lot and sometimes it gets so entangled in its own cobweb that it looks like a burden to loosen the multi-tasking approach. The things accumulate and everything appears so heavy and onerous just because I couldn't follow time and its demand.

It's this time when I realize that time flies and never comes back.So sometimes even when we don't feel like plunging ahead for some work that makes us light, we should try to just do it at least to store that goodwill feeling for the times of blue.

I was scared to find one day that my diary is not full yet even after two years mocking at me for my alienation.I do possess similar grievances from myself at times and try to polish them with small appearances as a writer or a painter for consolation. But I know these tiny attentions are ephemeral to appease the complaining soul. Soon I switch back to the old track of whining.

I know I cannot receive a continuous inspiration from self always until I respond honestly to what my instinct says to me. It says, do what yo like at the time you like.Do not compromise with 'your things' that give you joy a midst chaotic materialism. Always take a time off when you feel it's really needed to come inside you and talk and have fun and have the pleasure of being just self.

See we often get attracted towards an article headed something like 'ways to get happiness'or 'how can you make yourself happy'..Do all such articles demonstrate something that we don't know or something that we often forget. Sitting inside the four walls we lose the charm we used to have when our hands were not tied with machines and electronic gadgets. After spending whole of a day in office we do not bother to come out under sky making us even more cocooned. We feel connected to the world the moment we connect our internet modem and start receiving virtual conversations forgetting that one world that used to be quite large full of talks is getting all diminished day by day.

I hope all these occupational hazards once realized would be soon attended and I will get back my composure despite the emotional effects released by big changes that I often exaggerate ...............

Moonlit Whisperer-2

Where this earth ends and moon shines,

Where we breathe and this nature sighs.

Where the sky spreads its widest wings

Where the melody rises from the amorous strings.

Where silence speaks and words follow.

Where I foster your soul, full, complete, thorough.

Where my hands are held into yours.

Where I could listen what fate stores.

Where there is a sound of only breaths.

Where you and me are held in a single faith.

There I want to be with you.

There I want to live with you.

I do

I don't believe in luck

But when you touch the lines of my palm, I do

I don't paint much these days,

But when my colors blend with your thoughts, I do.

I don't look out for what I left,

But when I find you today with me and miss you yesterday, I do.

I don't look at the mirror most times,

But when I find some places where you touched, I do.

I don't make stories that seem unreal,

But when there is a fable of you and me, I do.

I don't get recover from my sleep often

But when you come near to wake me up everyday, I do.

I don't love things changing,

But when the change holds your hand and I agree, I do.

I don't know how to open my heart before you

But when you come like a sight, and when you place a kiss,I do.                                                                                                                                                        

New colors

Spring and She

Steps together

Fluffy canary

 

A travelogue

Well after a ton of time I have come here and it seems just like others I have too turned into just a visitor to this blog.After these many tacit days that hold a lot many events to be described here and i dont know really where to start from. Though I have so many topics to discuss here and knowing this that due to my reluctance and lack of time of course I would say, my vocab must have got a thin coat of rust that needs to be scraped off to do justice with these jumping thoughts.

Let me start with the awesome trip to Kerela, though it was meant for an official tour but the gestures and the hospitality, the ambiance and the weather, the colors and the humidity, the rhythm of Kerela mesmerized all of us and we felt it to be really God's Own country.

 Well when Kerela is named, we get a picture in mind: lots of coconut trees but since Coimbatore airport till the hotel in the city we could hardly get such a rich picture. We were little disappointed of not having any peculiar touch of kerela when already 2-3 days had passed during the training program. Worst of all, we searched for coconut water as well but couldn't find it in Kerela!!! That was really frustrating on our part since we had gathered nothing till now to flaunt about us being in heavenly place. It looked like an ordinary city with all brand outlets, same glittering roads at night, same crowd and same speed as we get in any north indian city: the only difference was the closing of shops by 8:00 PM, all people in white lungis and cotton attires, big juice shops with delicious shakes and juices to fight against the humid weather and the foreign and mixed language in people. Else was same.

After 5 days of complete disaster, we had plans to go to Munar with a hope to collect at least some memories(if we get) for taking them back to the routined life as a wet vestige.

Fighting against my instinctive whining over going back home out of continued sore throat, homesickness and strongest urge to get a glimpse of someone, I finally decided to make my trip and that was really one good decision because what was rewarded by nature there to us was really worth and priceless.

On the way to Munar via road trip is an exclusive feeling since it seems that the running roads leaving behind tall trees are greeting and creating new landscapes near, very near,for us each one with lovely surprises. Throughout the journey our mouths were open in awe, we didnt know how much more to get surprised and stunned. The best part of road trips is that we can stop anywhere we want to have customized memories and cherish trivial but precious things. 

Off the road, in the jungle, exploring ways to waterfalls: all seem so adventurous and gives an excitement to discover something that has been hidden somewhere in the nature. 

The game of such a treasure hunt takes us back to the days when we used to get excited and extremely happy with any exploration, any discovery that used to touch our inner goddesses. We were literally jumping and shouting and screaming and laughing after so many days as we found some beautiful nature shots where every tree, drop of every waterfall, every stone and every pebble were supporting as if were waiting for us and are equally delighted and excited having us there.

The lush meadows of rich tea estates and the length of the trees made us realize how rich and healthy and stout and green nature can be. They in no way looked dependent on us, neither adulterated or pitiful or weak or out of place. They instead seemed the smartest and most beautiful and strongest hosts letting every tourist believe that there is nothing more beautiful, more peaceful, more serene. Rising through the heights of Nelliyampathy hills, wherever we stopped, we searched for words and expressions to tie the astounding sight. With the mingled smell of cardamom, coffee beans and spices the air seemed so welcoming relaxing us in its service.

The cloud caressed peaks with heavenly formations of trees and rocks made the entire journey refreshing and we felt blessed in the lap of the majestic hills. At the peak of the hill that offers the entire view of the city in its lap held us at the top of seventh cloud or even beyond that. I cannot fairly describe here through my words how much peaceful it was. The silence that has rhythms of nature and whispers of air, where sky seemed near and land seemed far away, where I wished to lie down and talk with him for hours, or just lie down on his chest and look at the farthest point which cannot see us. The place hypnotized and brought the memories of him who makes life fulfilling. That was the beauty of that point which made everyone nostalgic and borrowed.

Well if I go on with this travelogue, I will keep on writing and writing because what is seen is something that can be described full on without any halt. But I guess this much is sufficient to collect back and go back in the galleries and valleys of my minds where the color of Kerela is still lingering.

 I just lived and held her in my arms, I got painted in her colors and I remained at peace.

Dreamers

Dreamers

A fair dream hangs around

to cherish, to remember, to fall apart.

To make this life filled with love

And make every end, a new start.

The bridge stands to witness

what nature stores within.

A hope, a desire, a due instinct,

A lesson, a tale, a romantic din.

The moonlit whisperer

 Life goes on like day and night

With ample times to take a hold.

where whispers of glorious past

reveal the moments, kept and sold.

The desperate moon up in the sky

looks down at us to see

the shine that makes him jealous,

The light that follows a destiny.

Heart

Heart is a room of conspiracies. It seldom allows to stand at one point categorically. It always has another say in the most obvious things as if its sole aim is to prove that being the weakest among the strong chain of a human soul it is the strongest cause the weakest link has the power to break the entire chain.

The nature of heart being entirely unpredictable often brings a sense of fear while listening to it because its volatility towards different events is very quick and strong.My heart beats for life but my life often skips many beats. The most tender and delicate fractal that needs a consolation and desirable treatment every time it loses faith and hope. And surprisingly it is very much flexible enough to get manipulated the way we want. But question still remains is it our smartness or tragedy when we become able or successful in calming the heart which just became loquacious few times back.