Scattered dreams,single tear,clouded skies,stormy nights...Smell of the first rain,walking though the windy shore...Images.Images most vivid,images most strong,flashing past my mind's eye.A motorbike speeding at hundred and thirty kilometres per hour through the valley,rafting precariously on the swiftest of rivers,enjoying speed...revelling without looking back.
Falling low,burning the last of passions by grooving to the latest rock music.Dreams and more dreams...pictures of flowers shining bright in the morning sun,dew drops glistening on drenched leaves...figments of imagination strewn all along.Like pieces of a massive jigsaw puzzle.
The mirror cracking,the candle almost burnt out and the phoenix rising,rising from its ashes and reaching the sky...reaching out to the thunder and lightning...imbibing the radiance of the lightning that ripped open the sky.
A solitary watch-tower guarding miles of the bluest of ocean waters.The sun setting behind the thickest of forest canopies and night slowly setting in the quietest of valleys.The first rays of the red sun peeping through the snow-capped peaks turning it red and...more images.Images arranged like the glossy pages of some picture book.
Dreams,visions and images like "a host of golden daffodils" filling me up,saturating me and pieces of my soul coming together...following the winding way through them and finally coming back to life.Laughing,crying,hiding,revealing allowing the soul in me to breathe.Emotions set free,emotions like wild horses...untamed,unbounded,running wild,wild over acres of the greenest pastures,a dive into the deepest of oceans and an eternal walk...A quest,a search,a journey on the road...The road of life.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sparing a thought...
'In the movies there is the leading lady
and there is the best friend.'
After reading a good book or watching a magnificent movie we often exclaim,'Oh,what a lovely film.Oh,what an extraordinary book.'Talking of books some might be enthralled by the amazing storyline,some mesmerized by the lucid narrative.To some the characters might seem intriguing.then again coming to movies,some might praise the direction,fall in love with the actors,themes or dialogues in general.However looking at the larger picture how often do we think about the valuable critic comments that has given the book its final form or the millions of technicians whose dedication finally put the entire film together.Its true that most often the leading ladies take away the cake.But what about the best friends?What about them who really bring out the best in the leading ladies?
I had been watching a comic show today where each performance was being supported by appropriate background music.I happened to notice how each performance aptly demanded a number of background scores and how crucial they were to bring out the total effect of a performance.For clarity's sake let me site an example.Suppose a clown is walking on stage and he falls.Just when he is falling if a chord is played on the piano the effect and humour of the act is heightened.
But how often do we realize that a chord was actually played to bring out the performance aptly?After a marvellous concert ,how often do we spare a hand of applause for the musicians?We often acclaim people to have become legends.How often do we think of the countless lives spent in the making of those legends?We are taught to respect our parents since childhood but how often is the child taught to respect his nanny as well?Or better still how many of us happen to even remember our nanny's faces?The one who taught us to walk,the one who fed us when we were hungry.The one who was our second mother?
We applaude for the one who wins a race.How often do we acknowledge the million prayers that have been silently uttered wishing his victory?It is true that there are many trivial and unseen gestures that help us in our strife towards success.But my question is how often do we think of them?How often are we even aware that they were always behind us like a guiding angel leading us towards victory?
and there is the best friend.'
After reading a good book or watching a magnificent movie we often exclaim,'Oh,what a lovely film.Oh,what an extraordinary book.'Talking of books some might be enthralled by the amazing storyline,some mesmerized by the lucid narrative.To some the characters might seem intriguing.then again coming to movies,some might praise the direction,fall in love with the actors,themes or dialogues in general.However looking at the larger picture how often do we think about the valuable critic comments that has given the book its final form or the millions of technicians whose dedication finally put the entire film together.Its true that most often the leading ladies take away the cake.But what about the best friends?What about them who really bring out the best in the leading ladies?
I had been watching a comic show today where each performance was being supported by appropriate background music.I happened to notice how each performance aptly demanded a number of background scores and how crucial they were to bring out the total effect of a performance.For clarity's sake let me site an example.Suppose a clown is walking on stage and he falls.Just when he is falling if a chord is played on the piano the effect and humour of the act is heightened.
But how often do we realize that a chord was actually played to bring out the performance aptly?After a marvellous concert ,how often do we spare a hand of applause for the musicians?We often acclaim people to have become legends.How often do we think of the countless lives spent in the making of those legends?We are taught to respect our parents since childhood but how often is the child taught to respect his nanny as well?Or better still how many of us happen to even remember our nanny's faces?The one who taught us to walk,the one who fed us when we were hungry.The one who was our second mother?
We applaude for the one who wins a race.How often do we acknowledge the million prayers that have been silently uttered wishing his victory?It is true that there are many trivial and unseen gestures that help us in our strife towards success.But my question is how often do we think of them?How often are we even aware that they were always behind us like a guiding angel leading us towards victory?
Just Another Dream
The light was slowly fading,
Whether the light of my eyes or the light of nature,
I could not tell.
The stone walls were closing in,
Closing in towards me from all sides,
The air was thinning
and cold was setting in.
Yet I longed,
longed for the impossible,
The specter of a soul that was left in my diseased body wished to wait,
It hoped,
as I lay curled in a a corner
of the stony dungeon.
Shrivelled,cold and waiting !
I thought I heard him
Yes,I did hear him coming,
piercing the cold,
I heard his footsteps approaching.
My weak heart pounded,
faster and faster as his footsteps drew near
A sudden warmth is what I felt,
the warmth of his arms around me,
drawing me towards him
and then I saw him.
The very face that I have loved
for a thousand years or may be more.
The very eyes,the very smile
for which I had been waiting a thousand years or may be more,
My vision faded ,my heart grew heavy.
He held me close to him
and the warmth I felt,
frightened me.
Perhaps this was another illusion,
A mirage that my wait was compelling me to see.
A vision of him that would melt even before this moment passed by.
I cried out 'Leave me alone'
I forced myself to break away.
But his hold was strong,
his touch warm and gentle.
He said,'Will you not allow me to take you!'
I echoed 'Who are you?You are not my love !For though I have been longing his arrival these thousand years I know he would not embrace a shrivelled pestilence ridden body !
You are but a mirage.'
'I am but your love',said he.
'I am the God in you love'
echoed his voice through the stones.
The pause that followed
filled eternity.
His voice sounded again,this time like the rippling waters of a distant mountain fall.
'The time has come',said he.
'To repay truth with love,
to repay wait with love
and above all
to repay love with love.'
My eyes that had dried a thousand years ago,
grew wet again,
the water from them washing away
the sores of my body,
the lights reappeared,
the walls retreated,
and it became warm all around.
He lifted me up and as he said,
'I love you , my love'
The sound of steps faded away across the dungeon.
Whether the light of my eyes or the light of nature,
I could not tell.
The stone walls were closing in,
Closing in towards me from all sides,
The air was thinning
and cold was setting in.
Yet I longed,
longed for the impossible,
The specter of a soul that was left in my diseased body wished to wait,
It hoped,
as I lay curled in a a corner
of the stony dungeon.
Shrivelled,cold and waiting !
I thought I heard him
Yes,I did hear him coming,
piercing the cold,
I heard his footsteps approaching.
My weak heart pounded,
faster and faster as his footsteps drew near
A sudden warmth is what I felt,
the warmth of his arms around me,
drawing me towards him
and then I saw him.
The very face that I have loved
for a thousand years or may be more.
The very eyes,the very smile
for which I had been waiting a thousand years or may be more,
My vision faded ,my heart grew heavy.
He held me close to him
and the warmth I felt,
frightened me.
Perhaps this was another illusion,
A mirage that my wait was compelling me to see.
A vision of him that would melt even before this moment passed by.
I cried out 'Leave me alone'
I forced myself to break away.
But his hold was strong,
his touch warm and gentle.
He said,'Will you not allow me to take you!'
I echoed 'Who are you?You are not my love !For though I have been longing his arrival these thousand years I know he would not embrace a shrivelled pestilence ridden body !
You are but a mirage.'
'I am but your love',said he.
'I am the God in you love'
echoed his voice through the stones.
The pause that followed
filled eternity.
His voice sounded again,this time like the rippling waters of a distant mountain fall.
'The time has come',said he.
'To repay truth with love,
to repay wait with love
and above all
to repay love with love.'
My eyes that had dried a thousand years ago,
grew wet again,
the water from them washing away
the sores of my body,
the lights reappeared,
the walls retreated,
and it became warm all around.
He lifted me up and as he said,
'I love you , my love'
The sound of steps faded away across the dungeon.
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