Friday, November 6, 2015

Moment with divinity

Moment With Divinity

You don't need meditation, you don't need breaks, you don't need yoga, you don't need alcohol. 
Actually, you don't even need peace.

All you need, is a moment alone with divinity.

The moment when you hear a note so powerful, it makes the hair on your arm rise. When you read something that sends a shiver up your spine. When you see symbols and figures scrambling for your attention and you want to disentangle them and make all their lives easier.
When the first thump against the steth resounds in your ears. The first gush of blood soaks your scalpel. The screen pops open and your fingers waltz over the keys. When you swirl your tongue and you feel ecstasy running down your throat.

That moment when you lose touch with all that matters. Or all that you think matters. When you are alone and endowed with a thousand heads. When there is silence inside you and all you can hear is Divinity whispering. When your senses do not respond and dance to an old forgotten tune.

All you need is a moment alone with divinity. Find it. And let it destroy you.

Darkness

DARKNESS
Click! And the lights went off. The flickering, the hesitation, the struggle of the filament against what was to be its fate.
And then,absolute utter darkness. He could feel his pillow squished under him. His bed sheet crumpling when he folded his knees. 
He reached out and touched the plastic of the bottle. Dewy, melting away at his touch.
He could hear the kitchen window banging against its frame. Weighing its chances and braving the winds. The blaring horns, the screaming neighbours and the nonchalant television sets.
He could hear and feel them all.
But all he could see, was darkness.
Darkness made so much sense. Glare, obscene, dull, painted, flashy, drab .. All lost their meanings. It was all a matter of shapes. Ups and downs. Curves And bumps.
There was peace in the dark. Unknown faces and familiar touch. When one could see the ghosts dancing. And laid the souls to rest.
Its wasn't as if he didn't like being in the light. It's just that. Darkness made so much more sense.

Moment

MOMENT
Have you ever considered how fragile this moment is? How infinitely small and insignificant.
When you are gone, no one will remember this moment. No one will know how you choked up while listening to an old favorite. Or, giggled hysterically at that double meaning joke.
No one will know how you felt, what shaped you, moved you, broke you and eventually gobbled you up.
In the cycle of time ( or the cycle of karma, if you would call it that) each moment if a wisp. A flicker. A sputter. Poof!
That's what makes this moment, just another moment. That's what makes this moment eternally special.

Insecurities

INSECURITIES
When you go to a party in a 'not so good' dress, you instinctively try to look for others who are disastrously dressed.
And, sometimes find a moment of pleasure in poking fun at them.
The same principle applies everywhere.
The woman satisfied with her own hairline will never point out you your bald spot.
The man comfortable with his own shape, will never poke your tummy.
The ones happy with their own little lot, will never begrudge your wealth.
It's all a game of insecurities.

Ode to the child within

Ode To The Child Within.
Yes. The child within you is dead.
Actually, it died quite a while ago. You have been dangling it's corpse and playing the puppeteer. While your ego has been adjusting the flickering macabre lights.
You dont greet people with naivety anymore. You judge them by their attire, their colour, their accent and ( if you manage to delve that deep) their 'status'.
You dont put on clothes that define you. You pretend to. You put on clothes that define society's image of your stereotype.
You eat so that you click photos, manage calories and fill that void. You know your choice of coffee, your taste and your choice of cutlery. To 'experiment' is an effort. Not a habit
You know your 'comfort zone', your 'type of people', your brand of whiskey and your choice of vehicle. Randomness is exotic. Something you do on weekends. Planned. To be celebrated.
Maybe there is still time. Maybe its not that late. Hug the corpse and accept it. You never know,it might start breathing again.