Sunday, March 25

Ennui

the word is beautiful and its called ennui.
you are drawing blanks looking at the sky.
or perhaps not, maybe looking nowhere.
the fear is not of the unknown,
its much rather of the known.
Knowing what you are capable of,
not knowing what to do with it.
but most of all knowing that..
you are still drawing blanks looking at the sky,
the word is beautiful and its called ennui.

Thursday, March 8

Maybe..

Maybe someday, i'll forget that i loved you. Maybe someday i wont.
Maybe our moment had its lifetime or maybe it was never meant to end.
Maybe the way you cloud my head will rob me of my share of sunshine,
Or maybe it'll be my shade.
Maybe our roads never really diverged, they just had different names.
And yet maybe we'll meet again.
Maybe you'll still find love in my eyes,
like you always did back then.
And yet everyday i'm lost in myself, or maybe i'm lost in you.
Maybe someday i'll gather myself in bits together,
because i still can't make out myself from you
Maybe solitude is mildly psychotropic
Or maybe its just you.

Tuesday, March 6

Holi

Holi. Such a beautiful word. Short, sharp and throbbing with such energy, vibrance and life.
In ways, its a metaphor for Life itself.
Our experiences are nothing but colours in the canvas of our life (cliche regretted!).

Distinct, each with a different effect, each for a different reason yet contributory to the picture of our life, only as a speck in the whole. Colours of a million shades.
Shades of brighter hues, mirth, joy, love, passion.
Shades of solitude, grey. Shades of blue, of sunshine yellow,
Shades of hope and dark despair.

And yet like all experiences of our life, the colours too fade after a phase of distinct blotting and like old memories that are no longer distinct, slowly the colours begin to merge.. until we cant make one from another.

And then we are ready, to leave all our colours behind.

Wash ourselves of all impressions, and purge ourselves of all tints. We start another year, with a clean canvas, ready to soak in the shades of life, till the next Holi.


Maybe our truest test of all does not lie in the colours we acquire, its fiercely external to be controlled.. maybe it lies in judging ourselves, and maybe judging others, bereft of colours..
for the canvas underneath.

When i read this post again, i'm so sure i'd go "what was i thinking??". But then, this is exactly what i was thinking. Mindspace doing wierd abstractions.

Saturday, March 3

The future is a dream you haven't yet seen.
..Or maybe you have.