Showing posts with label random scribblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random scribblings. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Numbness of Life

 

"I guess I should have reacted the way most of the other girls were, but I couldn't get myself to react. I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo."
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar


How often we become so immune to the others sufferings and circumstances, in the hustle bustle of life, job and everything, we all at one point of time become so hardened.



Thursday, December 5, 2019

Nothing Ever Becomes Real 'Til It Is Experienced

"Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced."
― John Keats 


So Often It Wanders

We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel. We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered.
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet



Wednesday, November 27, 2019

How shall I judge what to do in such times?

“It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels. The world is all grown strange...How shall a man judge what to do in such times?'
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers  




How shall I judge what to do in such times?

Floating clouds resembling things
Feeling of fragrance springs
Activating a dormant space
Like receiving a faint signal
I remember with love and ache
From a lost satellite
today

Peeping in to the yesteryears
A sudden throbbing I fear
Scores of things that gone by
On pinning down each evening
Carefree days beside you
Is all that I yen for
today

My hands grew so big
Yours shriveled down a bit
We both are aging apart
Pieces of old puzzle play
Unfolding slowly each day
But nothing makes sense
today

Many things to confirm
No reference for the same
Of all the roads I have gone
Each needs you by my side
Never admitting this aloud
As it may hurt our pride
today


What difference 
I say yes or no
Bittersweet answer
'Yes' makes sense
'No' is better
Both are true
today


Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Circle of Choices


If the past year were offered me again/and choice of good and ill before me set/would I accept the pleasure with the pain/or dare to wish that we had never met? ― Augusta Gregory offers an insight into the doubts we have to fight, choices that we have to make, every day in our daily lives. We keep on checking our decisions, our wrongdoing, actions, and reactions. We keep track of all, and continuously doubt ourselves in all waking hours. To err is such a common happenstance that it is quite natural to doubt our choices especially when such choices are made by rebelling against the world. "Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse?" ― Charles Bukowski. Is choice an easy task? What a battle that goes in our heads when we are faced with tough choices. It rips our heads apart; constant fear and doubt eat our innards. Some say it's all fate, is it? If it's fate then what about the tussle that a person has to go through while raking the brain for something that's already decided. I find John Galsworthy's idea of life and fate "Life calls the tune, we dance" little contradictory.

Sometimes choices are just thrusted upon us like a gust of storm. We aren't prepared for it. We may never be able to prepare for it. But at one point in time, such days come when you have to sit and decide, act and react to situations beyond your control. We make choices, but how far they are correct, who knows. In such circumstances, you are just struggling with all the noise "How did I get into the world? Why was I not asked about it and why was I not informed of the rules and regulations but just thrust into the ranks as if I had been bought by a peddling shanghaier of human beings? How did I get involved in this big enterprise called actuality? Why should I be involved? Isn't it a matter of choice? And if I am compelled to be involved, where is the manager—I have something to say about this. Is there no manager? To whom shall I make my complaint?" ― Søren Kierkegaard. It drives us mad. The possibilities and probabilities are numerous. To be able to think of all, and then there's a voice in your head that will keep telling you - "Make your choice, adventurous Stranger/Strike the bell and bide the danger/or wonder, till it drives you mad/what would have followed if you had." ― C.S. Lewis, the Magician's Nephew. Making choice against the wishes of the people we love is again a battle of the highest order. The valour and courage required in such instances are beyond any measure. There are factions in our head that will keep on juggling back and forth. Deep inside it is nothing but a simmering pothole of confusion and nonsense blabber that grows into a lake of fire. Sylvia Plath's struggle within seems so relevant –"choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between."  It indeed is tough to make a choice, to assess all and arrive at a logical decision which is acceptable to ourselves. In the end, we have to live with our choices. 



When everyday tripping like a battlefield
When you’re up against your own shield
Armour’s full of dust and holes
Turn into Achilles’ heel
Running in the dark from pole to pole
Devoid of life a dying soul
Sayings numb you around
Own clan is pushing you down
Folks keen on pulling you apart
Judging top and down from afar
All ears have gone deaf and eyes blind
Love in life leaves you in a bind
Screaming voice full of craze and sound
How fast does that heart pound
Home when turns into a battleground
You are bound to lose if you win
And the other way around.


Saturday, December 22, 2018

As A Ponderer Ponders

For I have always been a seeker, a dreamer, and a ponderer on seeking and dreaming...
H.P. Lovecraft,
Night Ocean et autres nouvelles

© Aleksandar Slavković
Standing tall on a rooftop
Observing city skyline
Sundown and birds flying by
Labyrinth of highways
Rush of wheeled machines
Everyone's on move
Running to somewhere
From someone, feeling
Like being in quicksand

Continuously reminding myself
Gazing at prospects
Of future to foresee
Brooding over past
and its perplexities
Where do these
Ever changing roads lead?
Forwards or backwards
Inwards or outwards
Promise and possibilities
Doubt and uncertainties
Standing tall on a rooftop
I ponder 

Friday, June 22, 2018

Uncertainty of Humanity

On the whole human beings want to be good, but not too good, and not quite all the time.
― George Orwell



Humanity
Player of cruel jokes
For a while it ponders
All wrongs and favors
Deeply it seeps, intently
Many hearts is pokes
Then, it wanders
Across wide plains
Meandering along facts
Seeking attention.
Humanity
Often fizzles out
Sometimes, by choice
It just ignores
Everything.

Thursday, March 29, 2018

An Instant Is Enough

Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.
Joan Didion,
The Year of Magical Thinking


They say an instant is enough
To act, commit, decide, express
Years in making
Memories of merged moments
Trickles down to a second
A tipping point
Things go either down or
Soars all the way up
Many such probable paths
Some crowded, some lonely
Ordinary instants
Endless possibilities
They say an instant is enough
To react, desist, defer, conceal
Years in making
Still, ordinarily
An instant is enough

Thursday, March 22, 2018

How many people I've looked

I wonder how many people I've looked at all my life and never seen.
John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent
 

Do I look up to you
Struggle for words
Frames and formations
Do I overlook everything else
None of me makes any sense
Nothing of you makes sense
Paucity of passions
Empty of emotions
I travel with so many
Many faces I've known
Nothing of them I know
Do you look up to me
and find words
Does a glance of me
Gives away any sense
or everything is lost upon
Remembrance

Sunday, July 16, 2017

I dream my painting and I paint my dream.



I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.

© Iva Borisova
Am I chasing dreams in circles?
One ends another starts
Beginning after the end
I fancy many faces
Each peculiar than other
To live so many lives
Each different than another
Can I swim in all the oceans?
Not all at once, but
Maybe one at a time.

Yes I crave all of it
Lights sounds visuals and touches
No strings of times and spaces
Across the length and breadth
Height thickness contrast and bright
All of it runs in circles
Concentric and conjoined
Can I mill around them all?
Not all at once, but
Maybe one at a time.
 

Sunday, July 10, 2016

We Stuck, Nor Breath Nor Motion





-------------------------------------------------------------------
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stuck in a comfortable place
No guess what happens next
With a clear view of jam ahead
So much, much to do instead
Still sucked at the same spot
To stay put or to honk horns
One after another, another
Another one day goes by
Moves with zero sound
Midst music all around
Direction signs all day long
To move dead straight ahead
It seems like moving, or 
Moving got stuck in a place.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Life Evolves, Memories Not





The past beats inside me like a second heart.
John Banville, The Sea



Good times, when they are gone
Leave a sweet taste behind
Alive still, still in my heart
Like a story in rewind

Collapsed bridge long back
Gone days never come back
Little of me still attached
Those voices and sounds
Little of me still cares
If things are still around

Fossilized memories
Unwashed imprints
They remain, always
A good kind of pain

World is in flux
Always changing
Life evolves
Memories not.



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