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An Evening's Impressions

On an evening like this, quiet, Soft, smooth and scarlet hanging flabbily out of the blueprints of a humdrum day of early summers Dirty as I roved in the porch watching blue herons serenading on the green branches of the Mango tree, the thought that clicked me first wasn’t of yesterday’s memories, or today’s accomplishments or tomorrow’s clear-cut charts or of the meadows full of green rain-soaked grass with heaps of moss gleaming in moonlight, or of where the stars hide in the day but of an ordinary world with ordinary things. It seemed the perfect moment to say a good-bye to this hyperbolized world and its gaudy lights and intemperate facades and to return into the lanes of a wrinkle-free world full of geese and swans. fairy tales slipping out of the pockets and memories from childhood taking form of sounds and noises, into aimless ramblings of the dreams and the magic-filled nights, which followed the motion of the stars and eavesdropped the silent whispers that the gasping earth ma...
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home....

Not that I do not feel like home here, but I know I belong to another place. My eyes are almost moist right now at the very thought of it. Two days down the line.. and I will be in my shrine in front of My Gods. If it seems like exaggeration, I wish I had ways to open my heart and show the plethora of emotions flooding inside it. The kind of devotion, reverence, love, affection, attachment, sweetness I feel for home, I wonder if I feel even half of it for anything else. ( ............ I am still, almost. The tears which have not yet trickled down, I can feel the love in them. I have tried writing about them... for them.. so many times. But everytime I try, I fall short of words. Every time I try, I just feel like bending my head down, closing my eyes and expressing the feelings I have for them through silence. It is surprising and may sound so illogical. But silence is definitely a language. There are so many occasions when I speak to them through it, wishing each time hopelessly that...
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seeking you..

Day programs me to work, Night sets my soul free Like a child’s whirligig it spins in your baffling world of waning tranquility, hidden truths. Catches your shadows, and meanders in alleys of eternal wander- hood. Untouched, the quest heads off for a rest some distant mountain peaks, snow-capped, I’ve traveled eleven thousand miles. the music of this night, the crickets’ squeak, this constant brawl among the stars, all are melting in your silence. sometimes our instinct grows so strong that the sky ruptures, sea folds up and the world shrinks into a soft cotton ball… tattered, blaring, inviting a revolution, a thunderstorm. To watch half the truth is a disgrace to the truth itself. Little light, little peace, little dreams, little knowledge, Like an island, like a rover, like a small city in itself, I know it’s the time to step out of this cocoon, out of these shielded walls of care and love, this house, its so many knots, these faces, these so many voices. It’s the moment To travel To...
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