Thinking on the move - cherubic enchantment

An angel flutters by. The corner of your eyes register in a fleeting moment what an hour of visual dissection can never achieve. The mind shuttles between the woe in front and the bliss at your side. You count seconds and iterate through strategies in your head. Defences drop, quicker than a lifeless bird. Hurtling down at max speed, there's only one thing to do. A slow buzz ramps into a steady oscillation, and you employ muscular services even as the amplified drone of the slicing air hits overdrive. You crane your neck unsure of the following moments. A quick sampling of the desired vision and you shoot back into feigned attention at the worthless jargon you were already supposed to know. The feeling of weight returns to replace the void around, by a room full of people; snap! goes the silence and the denizens speak their tongue with the sounds of clattering keys that are getting jabbed at, with all the fury a hungry, sleepy student can muster. Misery reigns your realm for the next few minutes as thoughts of a never to occur future, vex your fruitless present. And then like the coming of knowledge, you realize that you're not alone in this quest for gold; your object of preoccupation is in truth, the cynosure of greedy eyes in this ignoble gathering. " What a fell world?" you muse - a result of the inability to grade yourself and your actions sans the added weight. The scope pans out to the whole room, moves slowly up the stairway, past the unwitting sentry all the way into the pleasant, starry night. The clock reads 20 minutes to midnight and a million to the dreamed-of life. Its a good time to leave confused readers to their abusive taunts thrown spitefully at your crisp narrative. Its the time to take a walk home. Fever Ray whispers soft songs into your ears that remind you of forests and trees and mountains and of long, green walks taken under a pristine, moonlit sky in glad company.

Companions

ECHOES - the teacher

MELODY - the mermaid

EPIPHANY - the temptress

Thinking on the move - the second chance

You stand at the signal, waiting for those aberrant junctions inside the panels to respond to a timer that sends a stream of electrons to interrupt the controller. Out in the material world, two dozen people look at you and half a dozen, evanescent opinions are born. It takes 25 feet and a couple of gazes to get you across. It takes less than 20 seconds but a lifetime of feint to paste a smile on your face that reflects a non - existent, hollow culture. Generalization might be a blunder in a world with over 7 billion people, but I'll take the chance. And amidst all the chaos walks a free soul - oblivious, obvious and calm. You look at her and wonder what's beneath her feet; why the cacophony of a steel world fails to draw her attention. Unperturbed, measured footsteps resound in vacuum, obfuscating your know-how of your fellow humans. A swift journey down the echelons of her mind shows a smooth walled tunnel. Concealed beneath, furious, scorching fluids squirm through the plumbing. Fiendishly intricate wiring inside seems to be the reason for an out-of-the-box sense of dressing she flaunts. Jumping out, the macro world greets you with a cold stare. What you see next is the very antithesis of your latest peek. Coarsely open, the ghost of a redneck approaches, emanating an air of a cruel neighborhood that is wont to challenging a person's survival. You can almost feel the desperation that led to his lowly act of thievery last night. Its probably a cheap drug that he won off his homies from the last bet, that rules his senses right now. And its probably the shoes of his last poorer-by-a-life victim that he wears. What does that mean to you? How has it changed your day? How will it change your life?A butterfly effect perhaps? Or was it just the melange speaking? Can it be possible that you just processed a set of unverified, probably wrong details that will not have a bearing on anyone within five hops of your social brigade?

Who knows,
Why care,
As long as the light lasts
Stand and stare.

Drink in,
Cast out
As long as you live,
You have your shout.

What I want to know is...

I happened to be thinking (yes, I possess the ability) how my life would have been different if I had chosen a career path that's not Electrical / Electronics engineering. It was then that I realized that I wanted to know about a lot of things. So I listed down all the things that I'd like to study. (I'm not adding "in the future" as it adds an element of cliche to it, and people, including me tend to add cliche to cliche by saying stuff like, its not gonna happen if it's not happening right away. So lets not worry about a time frame and for my sake assume, that I will indeed find the time)

1) Music - evolution and composition.
2) Computer Science - to win the war against coding.
3) Mathematics - always a troublesome area for me, but I like to get my hands dirty.
4) Literature - short stories / poetry.
5) Film making - Script writing, direction and cinematography.
6) Theology - just to find out why so many people are drawn to religion.
7) Philosophy - I'm capable of thinking about such stuff for hours together.

That is pretty much it. Electrical Engineering will always be with me. Its not the eternal love of my life, but I like it enough to always keep it in my sack.

Bunch o' my Brain - Knot

Uneasy lies my head,
I'm counting minutes.
Desires all lie dead,
I'm feeling careless.

Thinking on the move - the beginning

Beneath your calm facade is a gushing cascade. The delicate fibers of social etiquette try without success, to quell the screaming vulnerability you harbour. Why is it that you cant seem to resist peering into tinted windows, a mere five minutes after your tryst with a mirror? And why do you limit that look to a passing glance, when a good stare is in order? What keeps your shutter closed my dear, do you fear the sting of the wind? Or is it the dogs that snarl at every scent they cant place? Is multicasting as exciting to you as the overture in that song you adore? Is your need to shut out the world justified when you can surfeit your ears with music? Are you frequented by a vision of a softly lit room with tingling, warm carpets and tasteful trinkets? How many times have you felt like shouting and refrained? Is your style a result of a closed loop with every stranger you happen to be stimulated by? Where is that originality the world needs? Are you a sponge that soaks itself with the drifting moisture in the air? Has it dawned upon you yet that you're either a true source or a victimized sink? Living with questions is only as easy as faking an answer. A green apple stands out because it did not color itslef red influenced by the rest in the basket. Has slowing down ever been a priority? You need to be different or you need to be good; if you'd rather play safe, be both. Contrary to popular belief, freedom comes from within. Did that phrase sound good even if you did not understand every word? Have you had moments when making sense seemed unnecessary? Have you ever experienced the joy of that one face or voice that fills up a void? Have you ever felt that competition is more a waste of natural ability than an agent of skill enhancement? Think about it, anything can be important and everything can be trivial - but choice is a tricky friend we all need to handle and solicit help from, very carefully; sometimes having none is an option we'd like to have. Again, it's a question of perception, dictated by thought and taste.

So many questions, a few inferences and some tests of taste. Going on would be easy, but its a pain to satisfy the need for accurate representation of abstract visions. The same visions that I intend will spring up, if your eyes see what mine do.

Saffron Skies

I'll tell you all my stories,
Sad and clear.
Its time for purgation
Time to let go free
Trees,
swinging trees.
Take me away yonder,
With the floating breeze

Symphonies that play outside these walls
Un-trouble my weary eyes
Lay yourself down to sleep
Down on warm green grass
Cover your cold body with
Saffron Skies.

Kill these gray boundaries
Just wait and stare
In wonder, at the heaven
Stretches of joy,
Dont pinch me awake
The mist is yet to come.
Loath to take the long path
Back into the city.

Symphonies that play outside these walls
Un-trouble my weary eyes
Lay yourself down to sleep
Down on warm green grass
Cover your cold body with
Saffron Skies.