My Vivid Expressions

After work yesterday, on my way home, I stopped by Ram Sai’s to buy some stationery. There, I saw a kid – not more than 8 years old – buying poster colors, a paint brush and a couple of broad sheets of white paper for his school assignment. I was staring at his colors. He observed that from the corner of his eye and tucked his colors in the loose pocket in his pajamas. I still don’t understand why he did that. Anyway, he said something in his mellow voice and I failed to hear that. I bent a little and asked him to repeat what he had said. He came closer, and asked me, “Do you paint?” I told him that I don’t paint anymore, but I used to as a kid. He smiled, shook my hand, gripped the counter, pulled himself up on his toes, took his change from the shopkeeper and left. And I stood there, watching him cross the busy street and run toward the lane that took him to his house. He could hardly hold the things he bought together, but considering the size of his hands, I think he managed well. He vanished, but I didn’t move an inch.

I was trying to remember the time I last painted. I recalled that I loved drawing abstract, vivid figures that looked like stories told by bold, fearless strokes of different colors that reflected my state of mind. But I stopped after a few years, put my paintings in the closet and moved to the hostel to get on with life, which meant education back then. And there I was, yesterday, still trying to think of an appropriate answer to the kid’s question. There isn’t any. I didn’t paint since years, because I was busy doing things I don’t like. I forgot that colors were as close to me as my thoughts, because they helped me express them. I realized that I have been dispassionate about everything, including work.

The shopkeeper obviously did not understand my revelation and waved his hands in front of my face, broke my thought and grabbed my disjointed attention. He asked me what I wanted. I said, “Give me poster colors, a paint brush and a couple of broad sheets of white paper.” I didn’t buy what I actually went there to buy – a note pad and a pen; thought that could wait another day. Like the enthusiastic kid, I went home with lot of energy and hope to create something fantastic.

I locked my room from the inside and sat on the floor with a new paint brush, new colors and new passion, and did not waste time thinking about what to paint. I dipped the bristles of my brush in one color after the other and choreographed its free moves on the no-longer-plain sheet of paper. I stopped after a while and saw that the painting looked eccentric. But the feeling in my heart was familiar; the feeling of exhilaration. I sat all night and thought of an appropriate title for my painting. The night passed by and at sunrise, with the first ray of sun, came the title idea for the first painting that marks my renaissance. I call it, “My vivid expressions”.

?

Tripping on a question mark.
Realised how significant it is.
Everything starts with it; just everything.
If we don't have questions, we will not have answers.
If we don't ask, we will never know.
In fact, if you don't ask for things to happen, they won't happen; for you.

Today there is tomorrow

At dawn there’s hope, in light and in thoughts lit by it;
a beam of possibilities, a new stream of energy,
takes me higher in mind, leaves me refreshed,
for another day I am alive, for another day I need to live.

Thinking of work, optimistic, I do set out,
for events that defy time, and experiences that define it;
Looking forward, marching ahead, some plans I make,
to go places, to do things I never have, but believed I will.

Not every day we win; this fact I know too well,
and never to stop trying is still my way to go;
could miss an opportunity, could meet no aim,
but today there is tomorrow, yet to come.

What The Hell...

Life is hell, for most.
And, they are the people who invented heaven.
Heaven is just their figment, to probably pacify themselves with the possibility of something better, eventually.
But, there is nothing better afterward.
It’s all the same.
The afterlife will be another journey through thick and thin; and that’s reality.
If there is something good, it’s right here, hiding for you to discover and realize it.
This is hell, our existence.
Heaven is a concept bought by most of us, and alike all the others that carry us away, an exaggerated one.
I’d rather believe in one-life – one-chance.
This is the good and bad, both. And, why is hell a big fear?
Why don’t we understand one thing – there can’t be heaven until there is hell.
So, live through hell, accepting it, and you’ll probably find heaven, before you die i.e.
Everyone’s heaven is discrete.
Mine is helping as many people as I can.
Yours could be something else.
But it’s all here.
Don’t live like you’re going to die some day and a friendly spirit will deliver you to heaven.
Don’t wait for your heaven.
Make your own heaven right here, right now; in this very life.

STRANGE CONNECTIONS

Unknown places; unknown faces,
and a strange connection…
with people who seem so lost; people who are subjects of profound thought.

I depart naturally, in body, but not mind;
I wander, in hope that I did leave behind,
a deep impression that I am what they are,
though I walk past them and remain far.

There is but little, a relation that binds us all,
something common that demolishes that wall,
which, till now, kept us from seeing…
that on the other side is an equal being.

Eye meets the eye, and the hearts meet too,
in moments of trust, filled with hue…
I stand by them and they stand by me,
in undecided moments that need no plea.

Places change, and so do faces, everyday;
no foreword, no dialogue and no dismay…
We are connected because we are the same,
And there lies nothing in their origin, or their name.

Middle of Nowhere

Doing a little bit of too many things I love doing.
Sometimes, i think about focussing on something I really want to do, but I realize that there are too many such things and I have not been able to prioritize yet.
my folks expect me to have a scheduled life, a stable life, which would have no ups and no downs.
I wake up, slide open my window and stare at the rising sun everyday. what comes to my mind is... the most powerful thing, the sun, has a schedule too. the question is, what role do i play in this world? what's am i supposed to do with this human body, which drives my soul towards aspirations like money, materialistic pleasures and development at the cost of nature.
i don't wanna give up, turn my back and walk out of this system. I am not a coward. and, i don't want to spend the rest of my life just observing things. i want to start doing something that i could do all my life. i want to discover, want to write, want to create my own environment and make my life a little more worth living.
most of us are not aware of the future and we can never be when are so lost in the present.
but that's what it's all about. living the present, not anticipating the future, but preparing for it.
I don't understand words like 'career' and 'goal'.
i don't understand why anyone would not travel and understand the universe the way it is supposed to be.
I don't understand, because i've not seen enough yet, not thought enough and not questioned enough.
I am in the middle of nowhere.

Delicate Silence

Delicate is the silence that keeps away from noise.
Like dark corners that stay away from sunrays.
The delicate silence that hears no sound, but its own.
The silence that does not drift past, but stays.
The silence that does not speak up, but still says…
The quietest of moments are the noisiest,
but keep the promise that objects make to surroundings.
Delicate it is, the silence, and breaks not due to sound,
but due to its aim to isolate itself.