I hate first days of June.... I am certainly indifferent to any month of the year..... But some days just are just meant to be, no matter how much u wish they wouldnt dawn.... Its easy for the day isnt it, it just takes a sun to get started.... we need an inspiration....we need a reason..... We have complicated mornings, a travesty of simplicity, the death of a beauty due to our own ratiocination....
Started of very well. Woke out of the wrong side of the bed.... brushed my teeth, had a bath, ate my breakfast, wished i was dead... and i was ready for a brand new day : )
I checked the almanac....
June had begun...... nothing extremely troubling.....
And i began my daily practice of exacting myself to a day, that took time and some days never happened at all.... Its all starts with a basic mantra i believe every person can apply
Next Time
Every day has a next day, every year has a next year, every smile has a next smile, every hug has a next hug, every tear will definitely have a next tear..... We sumhow mistake life for something so very rooted.... when the very flux of uncertainties is blowing us off our feet. We certainly and undoubted have become servile to our insecurities and people who take advantage of it... ahh yes thrs that man again.... singing raindrops and sunshines again... hes certainly happy..... He is smiling.... awww so sweet..... may be he has never been laughed at, or may be he has never been hit, may be heh as never lost someone, may be he has never been hurt.... may be he has never cried, may be he has never been lied to, may be he has always been with friends who use their daggers just to shred lies, may be he had been hiding away from himself.... but certainly he has never lived.....
Ahh yes so i say to myself, next time and i move on.
Moving on takes ardent enthusiasm. It takes courage, it takes power. It takes you. ANd it chops you off in little pieces and eats you up. ANd then it dances on your grave with boots on. Nike.
Moving on is most essential. After fighting with your dad and swearing at your mom you are moving out into the real world. and here real is certainly contradicting yourself. Because what the world you face is certainly not the world that exists. Basically you can never figure out what the world actually means. Because the minute you do that, the world will disappear and will be replaced by something as enigmatic as the world itself..... But then even if the world is not real, the hurdles it poses are real, the people who irk you are real, the cars that crash into you are real, the blades that cut your wrists are real, people whom you wish were dead are certainly real...... It is all real.... and you are real.... perhaps....
Perhaps.... that my nexty mantra...... That as important as me myself and you yourself.....
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Friday, June 1, 2007
My becoming
My becoming
It’s time I gave myself up.
Its time now.
It’s time I made a fresh start.
The water is splashing across my face. I have given in to the flow. The water surrounds me. I am one with this river now. This river is me. I can almost feel the water enter my lungs, filling them slowly. It’s not even painful. It’s beautiful. Never had I felt so much at peace with myself, so much at peace with this world around me and so much at peace with Mother Nature. I cannot see however the very much-debated white light people usually see when they are dying. But how would I know? My life has just begun.
Its silly of people to comment, to imagine and to write about what happens when people die. It’s almost sickening the way they misjudge and misinterpret the phenomenon. Perceptions change from a soul to another.
Why do people celebrate with elation the birth of a man, and lament the day he dies?
Tears commemorate the birth of a wonderful soul, and those very tears bid him goodbye… The very irony that surrounds a death is that people have always confused death with a tragedy, and not just another part of life…
I am not tired of living.
I have a happy life.
I am not a dissatisfied soul.
I am not weak.
I have everything I ever wanted.
My death is my decision. It is not my last resort. Neither is it the only thing I can do. I have many options left in front of me. I can still swim. I can still reach the banks. May be all I’ll suffer now is a bad memory. But I don’t want to. I still have that option with me but in my mind I have already decided. Never has my mind been to clear.
I have always been called a confused soul. Eternally confused. Never knowing what to do and when to do. I have been like this forever since I can recollect. I do not regret being confused. It has helped me make this decision. This arose amidst the ever-growing confusion swirling in my head. I just let go of my thoughts and let them land wherever they could. It was then that I realized that this confusion was supported by a purpose. It cleared off the moment it was meant to. Amidst this clearing fog I could see what I was meant to do. The confused soul had decided.
I can now feel myself drowning. The water filling my nose, my ears trickling down into my lungs and filling my stomach. However it does not make me sick. Neither does it make me afraid. It makes me strong. It makes me quiet. It makes me smile.
I have a led a life which had been decided by others. My mother decided when I should open my eyes. My father told me to be a man. My father decided what I should study. My mom decided that I should do what they decide for me. My teachers decided how well I’d fare. My brother decided how much my parents would love me. My friends decided what clothes I shall wear, where I shall go, what I shall do and what I should say. They decided what I should enjoy, and what I should not. My girlfriend decided what I should wear, and how I should talk and how I should behave. But yet there was an underlining to these decisions. Somehow I got lost amongst these decisions.
Everything else, fate took care of me.
It was high time I left my decisions to myself. It was high time I realized what I was living through.
I came home yesterday. I threw my bags onto my bed. And I looked in the mirror. I sat down and I cried.
I could not recognize the guy staring back at me. I looked at my photograph on the wall. There was a guy smiling back. But it was not I. Suddenly I felt scared. I wanted to know who I was. I down stairs. I cried out, who am I??
My mom looked up. She smiled and she said, “ Why, you are my Viraj.” That said it all. I was my mother’s son. I was my father’s son. I was my brother’s brother and my friend’s friend. I was still not I. In an almost sinister tone my mom added, “ You’ll always be my little boy.”
It was then I realized the gravity of the matter. I was not myself. I have never been myself. And I will never be myself. That is, only till I start taking decisions on my own. It was not much of a start but it was certainly a start.
I knew I could do something and call it my own decision. But really, do I have enough controls over my life? Do I really have anything left to do with my life? I have proved everyone I am obedient. I have been everyone’s and his and her. I have been theirs and thems I have never been mine. And that is why I realized I could never be me. That is until I figure out a way to start my life all over again. It was not impossible. All I had to do was to end it all and make a fresh start.
What better way to live it all again than by giving it all up?
I never really understood why people were scared of dying. Those admitting to fear were paranoids to hypocrites. Every person wants to die. Somewhere or the other, inside every brain exists and underlying thought, a thought about death. But as we have evolved, we have evolved along with us, a sense of fear, a sense of fright about death. We have associated death with defeat when in fact death is the strongest victory, a victory over life. It lets you finally be yourself.
That is really why I still have not closed my eyes. When you close you eyes, it means you don’t want to see and when you don’t want to see you don’t want it to happen. When we sleep at night we close our eyes because we want to escape from our lives just for one night. Just for that one night we want to be blind to everything around us. Just for one night…
That is why I could see myself jump. I can see myself being sucked down into the river. The cold water had never been this refreshing. It is purifying, cleansing me of all my sins as I go down to the bottom. This was my decision. The first one I made. It would be one of the many that I would make in the years to come.
It is a becoming.
It is my becoming.
Ed Lithium RIP 15 March 1987
It’s time I gave myself up.
Its time now.
It’s time I made a fresh start.
The water is splashing across my face. I have given in to the flow. The water surrounds me. I am one with this river now. This river is me. I can almost feel the water enter my lungs, filling them slowly. It’s not even painful. It’s beautiful. Never had I felt so much at peace with myself, so much at peace with this world around me and so much at peace with Mother Nature. I cannot see however the very much-debated white light people usually see when they are dying. But how would I know? My life has just begun.
Its silly of people to comment, to imagine and to write about what happens when people die. It’s almost sickening the way they misjudge and misinterpret the phenomenon. Perceptions change from a soul to another.
Why do people celebrate with elation the birth of a man, and lament the day he dies?
Tears commemorate the birth of a wonderful soul, and those very tears bid him goodbye… The very irony that surrounds a death is that people have always confused death with a tragedy, and not just another part of life…
I am not tired of living.
I have a happy life.
I am not a dissatisfied soul.
I am not weak.
I have everything I ever wanted.
My death is my decision. It is not my last resort. Neither is it the only thing I can do. I have many options left in front of me. I can still swim. I can still reach the banks. May be all I’ll suffer now is a bad memory. But I don’t want to. I still have that option with me but in my mind I have already decided. Never has my mind been to clear.
I have always been called a confused soul. Eternally confused. Never knowing what to do and when to do. I have been like this forever since I can recollect. I do not regret being confused. It has helped me make this decision. This arose amidst the ever-growing confusion swirling in my head. I just let go of my thoughts and let them land wherever they could. It was then that I realized that this confusion was supported by a purpose. It cleared off the moment it was meant to. Amidst this clearing fog I could see what I was meant to do. The confused soul had decided.
I can now feel myself drowning. The water filling my nose, my ears trickling down into my lungs and filling my stomach. However it does not make me sick. Neither does it make me afraid. It makes me strong. It makes me quiet. It makes me smile.
I have a led a life which had been decided by others. My mother decided when I should open my eyes. My father told me to be a man. My father decided what I should study. My mom decided that I should do what they decide for me. My teachers decided how well I’d fare. My brother decided how much my parents would love me. My friends decided what clothes I shall wear, where I shall go, what I shall do and what I should say. They decided what I should enjoy, and what I should not. My girlfriend decided what I should wear, and how I should talk and how I should behave. But yet there was an underlining to these decisions. Somehow I got lost amongst these decisions.
Everything else, fate took care of me.
It was high time I left my decisions to myself. It was high time I realized what I was living through.
I came home yesterday. I threw my bags onto my bed. And I looked in the mirror. I sat down and I cried.
I could not recognize the guy staring back at me. I looked at my photograph on the wall. There was a guy smiling back. But it was not I. Suddenly I felt scared. I wanted to know who I was. I down stairs. I cried out, who am I??
My mom looked up. She smiled and she said, “ Why, you are my Viraj.” That said it all. I was my mother’s son. I was my father’s son. I was my brother’s brother and my friend’s friend. I was still not I. In an almost sinister tone my mom added, “ You’ll always be my little boy.”
It was then I realized the gravity of the matter. I was not myself. I have never been myself. And I will never be myself. That is, only till I start taking decisions on my own. It was not much of a start but it was certainly a start.
I knew I could do something and call it my own decision. But really, do I have enough controls over my life? Do I really have anything left to do with my life? I have proved everyone I am obedient. I have been everyone’s and his and her. I have been theirs and thems I have never been mine. And that is why I realized I could never be me. That is until I figure out a way to start my life all over again. It was not impossible. All I had to do was to end it all and make a fresh start.
What better way to live it all again than by giving it all up?
I never really understood why people were scared of dying. Those admitting to fear were paranoids to hypocrites. Every person wants to die. Somewhere or the other, inside every brain exists and underlying thought, a thought about death. But as we have evolved, we have evolved along with us, a sense of fear, a sense of fright about death. We have associated death with defeat when in fact death is the strongest victory, a victory over life. It lets you finally be yourself.
That is really why I still have not closed my eyes. When you close you eyes, it means you don’t want to see and when you don’t want to see you don’t want it to happen. When we sleep at night we close our eyes because we want to escape from our lives just for one night. Just for that one night we want to be blind to everything around us. Just for one night…
That is why I could see myself jump. I can see myself being sucked down into the river. The cold water had never been this refreshing. It is purifying, cleansing me of all my sins as I go down to the bottom. This was my decision. The first one I made. It would be one of the many that I would make in the years to come.
It is a becoming.
It is my becoming.
Ed Lithium RIP 15 March 1987
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)