28.8.10

It's nothing.

Sometimes all you need to be happy, is nothing. Nothing in your mind, nothing in your head, and (sometimes) nothing in your wallet either. Absolute emptiness. Yogis call it the art of meditating. I’d call it pure bliss. Because when there’s nothing to worry about, you have nothing to worry about. So let’s see. How easy is it to close your eyes and dance to a tune you can’t hear? Every chord, every beat, every string so clear, that you wake up to hear the noise in a silent room. Ever been able to keep your head void of every little sound that your mind makes? That of fear, that of doubt, maybe a giggle or a tiny tear? How far does your head go to seal itself from what the mind echoes? And who decides what enters the mind and what stays outside? You? Who else? All that’s in there is what’s out there. Right from bad coffee to bad tempers. Goof ups to higher ups. Pretty smiles to forgotten ones. That one line to a million other expressions. It all goes in there and like a bunch of tiny tots jabber all way long. Leaving you with not an inch left for that speck of silence you were looking for. You try hard, go deep inside in search of that piece of mind. But rarely find it. Not that easy when there’s a clutter you have to go through. I’d think that the simplest way to find a way out, would be to find the way in. If you do, then be the friendly guard who lets in the good and sends back the bad. Because the good, they talk, but only when you want them to. And when they don’t, close your eyes and dance to a tune you can’t hear. J

25.8.10

Gifted.

I mean, you probably have magical powers or something. Or wait, you must be like Vicky in small wonder, the scientifically programmed robot? You programme yourself to listen and then delete everything once you’re done, and that way, make space for the next time. Or oh I know. I’ll tell you. Your memory gets erased every night, so when you wake up the next day you don’t remember a word we’ve spoken the previous day. No? Hey! It’s got to be one of these, right? How on earth otherwise, dear friend, do you manage to listen to me sulk and crib every damn time and still like calling me your friend?

I love you dear one for being the way you are. I know I’ve been a pain with my eternal saga of “issues”. I swear, I’ve tried to solve them myself. But nothing seems to work like talking with you at length. The way you make it seem like I’ve just started on my woes when I’m almost two hours through. The way you smile at my biggest problem and laugh at my silly findings. And the way you listen to me with a serious face, like I’m echoing your problems and not mine. And then take me out of the mess, carefully, cleverly, not hurting me even a lil bit. None but you, my friend can do so.

I want to hold tight on to you, so that I never have to leave you. Cos honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if you ever thought of running away. With a friend like me, it’s nothing, but natural. But before you do, please do leave me a note telling me where I can find you. So that I can follow you wherever you go. :D Cos I fear my friend, that I wouldn’t be able to do without you. When you look into my eye, I know it's my mind that you see. And none but you can possibly reach that far.

So my conscience, my friend, my surprise gift from heaven, let me tell you this if I haven’t before, you’re truly special and will always remain so.