An Immortal Star-gazer

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!

Comments

A Letter to a Lethal Timid

"I quietly but persistently punished myself, shredded off the skin until nothing was left except the scent of blood on my fingers. I worked very hard to not let the black spot grow into cancer and slosh me down. On countless occasions, your needling, needless remarks pricked my conscience, and my head bursted like a dropped watermelon. You, dear hater, would never know severely have I been sliced by your venomous words. My vigor drained by the end of the day only to hear the slow pulse of its job half done. Saddened, I would scratch my wounds too deep for the healing and then let them open. I remember the nights when my insecurities hemmed in and my sense of fear filled my mouth with hot, dry air and made my body light. I used to watch you with eyes of hate before I realized that you are nothing but a pile of uncemented bricks that would never take a form, and I pitied you. I could clearly hear your enviousness and malice thudding loudly like a horse’s hoof...

Dispatch to a Friend

So this friend came to me the other day and accused me of being a paradox. He complained that your scripts talk about being vigorous and iron-willed while you, on the other hand, seem to be feeble and obscure; that you are a contradiction, full of falsehood and you drop lines on the piece of paper that you’re literally not. I let him had it at that while, because I believe I am good at pushing a pencil and am not blessed with the gift of gab. My dear friend, to you I write, I am a meek valiant. I sob at the sofa in the middle of the day, panting and yearning for something far-fetched. I am a miscalculation of theories and sentiments. While I scribble dauntless and lionhearted beliefs, I might be the most timid and reticent human being you have ever met. I am the one who fragmentizes inward and sheds bitter tears in a dark corner, rather than howling back. This ideal, prototypical girl in the back of my mind that I write about and that, in the heart of hearts, I aspire to ...

Hat Tip- #3

“Dusk is just an illusion because the sun is either above the horizon or below it. And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are there cannot be one without the other yet they cannot exist at the same time. How would it feel I remember wondering to be always together yet forever apart?” ― Nicholas Sparks , The Notebook #photography

An Incessant Pursuit

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