One Day: Busy..oh so busy..always!!! I have forgotten to relax she says and she has. Sad but that is the depressive truth. She came in front of me and said that she is finding difficulty in breathing for she does not know what mindfulness is all about. I look at her, this woman who has so much to offer but she is a mere shadow now engulfed between the demands of her life slowly killing the desires of her existence. She starts with her monologue and I listen. Who am I to judge anyone for my task is to listen with a kind face. She explains the chemically enhanced state of mind, the pains surrounding the decisions she takes, the misinterpreted actions of hers, the desires not synchronizing with the reality of her survival and finally the incomprehensible thoughts complicating a simple life. We talk about life in general then she tells me how she is living in the virtual reality. She says she enjoys but also worries that each passing moment is becoming a memory. She complain...
Busy Being Fabulous by Eagles playing in the background while I write Calmness that surrounds me is frightening. Always on a lookout for something to happen, some news to slap my face, some character to ditch me, some love to evaporate before it even sees the daylight and then this sudden calmness makes me delusional. I have forgotten to comprehend life now. I do not understand the twists and turns it holds so I just let the calmness run through my body. Five in the morning and I decide to step out in the balcony. Oh goodness me…the chill is amazing. I am on top of the cloud and when the mist kisses my cheeks, I feel that warmth, that purity amidst the morning bliss. I stare at the greenery ahead. I look down at the lone hotel that is hidden below and think how romantic a life it is to be living in a place like this. Far away from the busy city, farther away from dust and pollution, and farthest from the scrutiny of humankind. A rich country for its natural beauty and a poor ...
Sometimes I wonder what will happen if I die suddenly. Would I be a memory or a great loss? Would I be discussed for a few days or remembered forever? Would they let me die in peace or start to dig in search of “the dirt?” Is this a simple soul searching process or actually a selfish curiosity to remain “alive” forever? How would I feel? I think of my loved ones and the attachments. I think of my unpublished works and would not want anyone to theorize and criticize and me not being able to defend or agree in person. I am scared of the unknown: where I will go? Or maybe duality exists and I have a same life on the other side of the thin line of existence and death. I wonder if I will get a choice on the other side: to play sports, to sing, to lead a different life in comparison to what I have right now. Is this a depressive thought or a mere inquisitive musing? I am attached to feelings, emotions, people, and things but would that all m...
A hippie....
ReplyDelete