Friday, November 22, 2013

A complete noman's land

We don’t watch sad movies to taste salty tears. We don’t watch romances that are subtle to know how intensely that lamp of oil can ignite. We watch sad romantic movies because somewhere we want to know how grave a pain it shall be if we lose our loved ones.

These tears that still are alive in this heart that beats of love, a melancholic music of the violin I heard.
This sadness that aches the soul, speaks of the love that was, has been and that wishes itself to last.

 You see if two people were meant to meet, there was a reason, either to come into each other’s lives, teach them more about life and living or to be and to love the other so passionately that the world would not matter. We would be and not be in that world at the same time. Talking, interacting, smiling to familiar faces and perhaps wanting to be with those who abandoned us, for the sake of love. A noman’s land, not barren by people, yet barren in its own ways. And if at all it would rain in that land, the drops of pain would taste salty. May be tears, though watery have always carried in themselves a weight; that which some felt like wait, and that which others went through in moments of catastrophe or dilemma.

And who believes in past life, they ask. We know not where we were, you and me. We hear stories of many lives. We know not of the life that shall be as our souls shall depart the bodies, the mass which we live in, in all our living days. And so I ask, unaware of the past that was and the future that shall be, damn world! Can we not think of me and thee? ,

The gentleness I see in the feather, is that which is felt in that touch
The tears that burst through heavens, evaporate in moments quick
For the sun that burns the earth, also nourishes her
And they wonder what kind of love is that
For it loves, only to burn………….
And there in the noman’s land
Now exists a world
Where those who love and not care reside
Forever and until eternity…………………

P.S: The above words were inspired after watching the movie ‘Never Let  Me Go’

Thursday, November 14, 2013

The future stands still but we move in infinite space

The work at this side of the fence is never ending and the irony of this land is that people, after a point of time, can do nothing but toil to pass the 50 percent mark. Threads of different colours entangle her, making things a blur occasionally that the very coloured threads seem to enmesh together to a ball of wool that is colourless, odourless and directionless.

And while the mouth did its chatter amidst the game of ease and tension that the clouds played with the erratic warmth of the sun, something bewildering happened. The waves of the shore began to recede in a way unlike its nature. The sand of the beach became dense and heavy. Even the wind questioned its nature, for it would fly with the breeze and make different shapes that which the dunes would love. And on this beach, in a corner lay a book questioning its existence. Someone threw it in despair and disgust for the essence of words had lost its meaning. And while the tornado came by and left, the dead silence of that very moment lingered on, for someone far away lost her life to words. Speechless.Wordless. A barren land.

That autumn where the leaves were crumpled and crushed under the weight of existence came by and went. As each leaf slowly left its haven for the burial, it wondered of all the days that went by, swaying and gliding with the cool breeze, with its pals. Some of them breathed their last breath months ago, and some were days away from the earth. In its last breath it thanked the sun, the rain and the tree, for the stay was warm and nourishing.

She took that clearing into the forest to find a way out, only to find that it would take her back in-to a world that always belonged to her. As she walked on the leaves that cried listening to her tears, that shared timing with their death, she saw a few trees which bloomed with all their youth.

Now she sits on that favourite spot which faces the forest. The sun, in all its glory promised it’s presence even on wintery days. It comes by to say a hi for it knows she feels cold. And there she holds the very book, which was abandoned for the betrayal of words. Today, the words cry, not because they were aimless or cruel, but because the tornado ensured that no order remains in its presence.

And it is with words as with sunbeams, the more they are condensed, the deeper they are. The security of the sun makes her rise each day. Sweet words exchanged. The promises give rise to budding leaves on the branches that were left barren and lifeless. Life continues to evolve. She knows not of what shall entail but with the sun there the smile surely stays. She goes back to reading and owning that which was bereft of her.

1. The title is a line by Rilke
2. The line in Italics has been written by Robert Southey.

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