Thinking on the move - Valley of Life

At one end of your mental plane is the realm of reclusion, sheltered by a poignant gray sky, dictated by a pervasive notion of pointless existence and the ideology of staying aloof while at the same time playing along to earn acceptability in your clique. Afar, at the other end is a valley - complete with meandering rivers, carpets of lavender and green, reverberating with wondrous cries of vibrantly colored birds. One as inviting as the other to your eyes and mind, you may not be in a position to choose either, and will rather live both lives in regulated quantities. You are your own arbiter and the victim of thine own decisions. But lets talk awhile of the seemingly livelier of the two, of the place in your head that is not bereft of emotion, that which is not eroded by the winds of lethargy and dull reality, of that little corner which yet harbors a desire to fall in line with the rest - to laugh, cry, get hurt and heal.

The valley is crowded, filled with faces and words - it defines your life as a son, a brother, a caring friend or a vengeful foe. It whets your material appetite and at the same time, ties you to some of the most beautiful, enviable moments and emotions you can cherish when the easy chair beckons. This plausibly pleasing, and deceivingly serene haven was supposed to be your first home.

But you saw right through it all, like you always do; riddling the walls with contemplative bullets, you stripped the place bare until the storms and fires were all that you could see. You knew that your kinship, loyalty and love for the near and dear ones was unwavering and would ever remain so. But there were some other strings that got broken strained by the intensity of your relentless thought-driven invasions. A vision gained and the due price paid, you decided to change flanks.

The faraway, gray land is now your home, a grayness that you can color green, or orange or any other color has no name. A place where you can scatter the trinkets you carried with care from the other end - from the valley. As you nurture your notions of a perfect world, you fill in color and character into emptiness, naively smiling at the idea of a prospective glen to coop yourself in, forever. You build mountains all around, tall and majestic, a stronghold to keep out any remnants from the wanton land you left behind; a fortress to fend off any scraps of ego, ire or vanity that may come riding in, on the wings of the cold zephyr. Your job done, you watch in wonder as nature plays its part in beautifying your world. Bustling with life, surrounded by all that you hold dear, its time for you to close your eyes and catch some precious moments of bliss.

Soon it will be the time to wake up, wrap up and leave; the time to append another dimension to your limitless mind, the time indeed to go in search yet again, of a never to be found heaven.

Home calling

Raindrops, from up above
Pitter, patter they fall
Scatter and go a thousand ways.
Its got me thinking of home again.

I know the light is filtering in
Through the curtains in the hall.
Sunday morning news
Is lying on the floor.
Mama are you in the kitchen,
Hot breakfast on the stove?
Papa's by the porch ,
A cup of Coffee in his hand.

The knot speaks

The knot speaks
Form deep within my entity.
Dull throbbing
From the depths of insanity.
I hold my head in my hands
To keep my mind from floating,
The grays offer me their warmth
In the black of the night.

I need to,
Fly away
Up there
And feel
Ever So light, so light.

Down there the
Walls are all
Crumbling
Into dust
And you surrender, to the pain.

Thinking on the move - the knot speaks

The world is big, far too big for my liking. There are too many people around. Like ants they walk, like dogs they bark and snatch from each other and from the world like monkeys. The norm has been written and rewritten, trodden upon and generations have watched unknowingly, the pervasive pointlessness of this temporal sustenance. Dazed by the sheer speed of competition, we follow in the wake of a ship that has borne millions of our species before our time. A select few stand on lonely shores and watch the sails slip into the horizon. While the normal man tch-tches in pity and drinks his soup out of cheap china on the deck of the vessel, the thinkers silently smile and light their pipes. Sitting on warm sand, they welcome the solitude of intellect and the saline freshness of the sea breeze.

Affluence brings with it either a desire to grow trees of gold or a detachment well afforded. The unfortunate ones spend a lifetime trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive shimmer of lifeless diamonds. Like many others, I belong to neither of these factions. Serenaded by the uncertainties and wonders of this limbo, I trudge along willingly - a little lost, and acceptably happy. Amidst all this talk of echelons and thoughts is the knot.

The knot is ever-present, and I've felt it more than ever in the past few days. Its a heavy cube of dark smooth iron with rounded edges and corners - well, not literally, but my imagination has it defined that way. Its a weird state of mind to be in - jerkily pulled away from reality but at the same time being closer to it than I normally am; questions stream in and out of the head without getting answered, followed by the the compelling need to do something different, to be free from the rigour and monotony this life has to offer. All said, I would indeed be fooling myself if I were to truly believe all of my own words. I realize I'm merely ranting, without start or end. But the knot is real, as real as the stark pointlessness of it all and the undying spirit of human fantasies.

Thinking on the move - throb

Grim frustration grips your being. Aimlessness, your temporal aide. You feel something caged within the confines of your skin. The most dearest of feelings is at the least detestable in this state of suspended commotion. Nothing enthralls, no one matters, music your only resort. Deep breaths to pour out the knot, strand by strand. Coursing through a chaotic passage of faces and familiar surroundings, you zombie your way through those couple of hours. You seek a creative outlet and find yourself lacking in all aspects - a unanimous deficit of motivation and talent ruling your senses. Stark reality stares you in the face leaving behind a fertile silt to sustain an unchecked growth of a deep rooted feeling of insignificance. Point blank frustration. Remedies are few and you choose the best one around. Clinking, clean melody floats in as Opeth takes over. Sad tunes and melancholic words elevate you, beyond the reach of the agents of materialism prowling the lower strata of thought.

Music in all its diversity, never disappoints. No matter what parameters define your current setup, there's always a song you can lean on. There is always a tune to drown in, and forever words to wrap your brain in. If nothing works, there is always the music of nature - Silence; priceless and crystalline in all its pristine delicacy - the sound of silence.

Streak

I've waited long enough,
There's no help coming.
Gotta help yourselves out,
By swimming in the drain.

If you're dizzy with pain
And you cannot breathe,
You better sooth yourself with
Another hollow promise.

Thinking aloud and running blind,
Spaces to see and questions to find.
Subdued laughter and a silent song.
And the paths keep winding, all along.

The graffiti fades
As the rain beats down.
Upon your window
Thats turning brown.

Gripping fear owns
Your feeble mind.
Coz there's  no messiah
To hold your hand.

Thinking aloud and running blind,
Spaces to see and questions to find.
Subdued laughter and a silent song.
And the paths keep winding, all along.

Bunch o' my Brain - Nothing Special

What am I to make of all these frays?
Nothing ever seems to hold me in its sway.
Counting these tears it makes me feel I am,
Just another shadow on the blinds today.