An Incessant Pursuit

The scariest part is not losing someone or something. What is scary is when you have lost touch with your own self. It is when you are happy in a group of people, but gloomy when you are alone. It is when solitude kills you and you stop being happy by yourself. That is what chills your spine and alarms you the most. When you have lost touch with your inner rhythm and have become incomplete, and you need people around you to company you, to lift you up, that is what is fearsome. Nobody could mutilate you without your permission and no one could please you as well. Yes, people are going to hurt you. There will always be an incompatibility of temperaments between you and the person you love, but the relation will only go serene when you are at peace with your own self. The eerie numbness that surrounds you the moment you get detached with the outer world is not a good indication. I say, divorce yourself from the outer world and marry your inner rhythm. Know yourself, have a glimpse

A destination, which is shared by all A place so dark, a destroyer of worlds No people, no feelings, only a peaceful tenebrosity There is no return from this painful truth No homecoming, no undoing things Fragmented wishes, unexecuted promises haunting the nights Your life has been recasted permanently A heartache, a heartbreak, a woe, a despair A memory no one could ever nick You sink deep down an abyss The scent fades from the pillow, unheard cries in the room The Dead has set sail on a ship that would never return A catastrophic earthquake that rifts everything apart A hole in your heart that would never grow back A hurt worse than the emptiness that existed before they came And you silently wish you had one more conversation One more chance to make them stay, forever You are weakened in your knees, your heart gets numb Like you are surrounded by an aura of ample of gravity There is a longing deep down to

“Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past you. And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.”   ―   Stephen King ,   Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption: A Story from Different Seasons #photography

#photography

There I espy, a band of dreamers With their heads in the clouds and their feet on the ground, Serene are their actions, unbothered by petty pursuits Eyes glittery, nerves dancing, as the lucidity of their dreams fathom, They have shed the shackles of selfishness, hurt and fear Morphed into humans- eloquent and clear, An aura so charismatic, a chutzpah so mesmerizing Not sounding like everyone else, instead sounding better, Unruffled like a crow on the scarecrow Quenching every hiccup in their mind with their hankers, Souls who turned their phantoms into discernible doves Who sound utopian, but are pragmatic Verismos, Meet the unbridled forces of nature, a chrysalis for the future Not taproots but rhizomes, ready to spring anywhere, They venture to think the unimaginable, envisage the unthinkable And toil indurately to achieving the grail, Join them someday, believe me; you will love it up here!