Musing over mundane

Leave a comment

As I was trying squeezing two pulps together hesitantly, inch away from my mouth and still hesitantly, I felt the effort my mouth is making to let it in, I put it, squeeze and contemplate in the tanginess, the differences of trying and letting it be.

Then,

It made me write, something I have forgotten for long. To ponder on why does it even matter. If I would think back, I have not risk a dime in life, but then I have risk enough of my age in expecting the weird or anything.  Expecting is risk too. But why does it matter, why trying gulping two tangy pulps matter? No, those pulps didn’t taste anything different to me, I didn’t overcome any hesitation. But holding those two pulps inch away from my mouth, I wanted to try, I didn’t wanted to accept regular habits to be as it is forever, for once , and for onwards I wanted to be able to do things in liberty. There are so many things that I do like I do and many lists of things I don’t do. And now I come up to think, after all these years these don’ts and dos associate as part of identity of our portraits to people we have come across in different time of our life. Those who knew me then can still find same traits in me, Dalli won’t eat this, K don’t like this, It is not her type, she is not that type. In these stereotypes, in their memory where I am type casted, I have taken it so easily as my comfort zone, something I have never willed enough to change even a bit. I would not try to change my liking, my trying and habits because I have remained as that Dalli who won’t eat that, who won’t like that, who won’t savor any tanginess.

These not doing and only doing have become comfort zone of habits and today I ponder about why coming out of comfort zone matter, or does it matter at all?  What is heroic about it? Because don’t we always push ourselves from one place/habit/situation to find a better comfort, mental/emotional/physical? So, it just makes us enter from one loop of practice to another and so on. And then may be, we have, or at least I have so much misapprehension about sticking to habits bound adamancy and call it comfort zone that I don’t, in real know the comfort of identity created by the liberty of choices and chances taken in leap of dare rather than faith.

But today I wanted to, easily change that and do it like regular thing, without making it a big leap of choices. I wanted to be free of my own traits and choices, of whatever typecast associated with me, interchangeably.

Stroll in stores

I was pondering about pulps, all the time I was strolling the nearby stores of my work place. It’s that kind of music they play in there which make me run away but I still go there just for the Marico bread and stroll.  I love to stroll naively in stores, section after section trying to steal moments to think of the “what ifs” of trying, buying, picking up china and choices above arguments, building hopes, homes, hims. Then walking out swift to rush back to present,

No matter how misplaced it seems, present is only home you have.

In array of the eateries, I have come to dislike eating outside now; my stomach seems to be in its process of developing illness that somehow, I feel will trouble me for as long as I live. It’s a subtle pain, that I don’t know how to explain, but I know it, and I want to make peace with it, hoping it will with me in return.

Then back in the Roads,

I ride aimlessly, and scared. I have not walk in a long time now, last time was walking to a school somewhere in hills in July. But I won’t call it a walk as I would call those mini strolls when N was around and many times before when friends were around. For a walk to lunch some days ago, one of the colleague pointed that I don’t have good pace to walk with a company, either I am steps ahead, or back, awkward for company to walk along. Maybe I am out of practice.

I don’t remember the last walk. But I dream of running away, always.

Winter,

My hands are always cold, Acclimatized.

Advertisements

Maturity color

Leave a comment

After the wind and rains,

The Sun had stretch

into the damps and moist from the night,

under the sky pleasently bright 

while birds were chriping in the fragnant breeze,

I couldnot help the memory of old spring age,

 counting roses that had shed and bloom

I smiled for the glistening dews and flower hues,

my eyes then caught a reflection above my happy face,

bleached off its not so black, not near to brown shade,

in the newly cut frizy hair,

a single strand, not as sharp as white, yet a step less to black

 tranforming color in full length,

I stare it a long gaze, 

at a age, 

that I hesitate, 

in the reminiscence of youthful mornings, that was my first grey hair.

 

 

Good night

Leave a comment

  1. Thoughts wander, like clouds, reshaped in each side turn, thoughts of every sorts, feelings sometimes smiles many times choke.
  2. Bed is little warmer for spring. Pillow adjustment, .too high then too low, adjust somehow,  will change cover tomorrow.
  3. Tomorrow is work, people, books, news, road, ToDo’z..Trying.
  4. Tomorrow is far.
  5. Thank you note, Done. Phone away, Songs, posts.. NO.
  6. Heavy eyes.. I am getting there, I am sleeping.
  7.  Not yet ( consisous thoughts)
  8. Peek out, figure out shapes of ghost.
  9. Turnleft, turn right, straight, Uncomfortable.
  10.  Sleep, sleep. Don’t dream. Don’t wake.

 

Wish

Leave a comment

Let the exhaust of unsaid

transcend to incense,

let it shape in the swirl,

through the miles,

across clouds and climbs,

let it whisper in the universe,

let the wishes then become my prayers,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those tired smiles

Leave a comment

she would have

wanted to reap and show

all that she had,  even she didn’t know

things that over flew

Inside her,

it aches and bleeds

feelings,

if it only could be emptied

once, for forever.

the anguish of

hollow howls

empty eyes, can never smile,

never a tired soul burgeon life.

A better Perspect

Leave a comment

The post could have better  titled Things I learn today/ or things I like learning today:

What we see, what we hear or feel is all our imagination. the image of man in front of me is my perception in my head, the voice  I am hearing is also my perceiving of how it sound in my ear. It necessarily doesnt mean what I have percepted is the real. In fact all of what we see, hear, feel is only the senses happening inside of us, created within us. We see the world with our eyes, all the colors, the lights, its all how our eyes is seeing,  but in fact, our brains never even expereince any sorts of light or colors. These lights never even lighten our mind, yet we expereinces a world just based on senses, but again no way it means this is the ultimate reality. Nothing happens outside us, every feeling happen inside us, it has nothing to do with what is ahead.

In that way, we only live within us, in our tiny head, but in great lake of Consciousness.

This perception of consciousness can be false, since it is entirely personal. How a bird expereinces this world is diferent than how we do, how a fish percept is entirely different  from what a frog expereinces.  So, this senses and expereinces of  perceivinjg the world is entirely inside our mind, what arises within us; the joy or agnoy, esctasy, pleasure everything are not out there in the world, its within us, interstingly originated from what we have build inside us, the world of our perception. Nothing lies outside us.

If every expereinces generate from within, then at least we can make it happen my way, you can by your way. We can’t make what happen in our little head to be what happens in everyone else head.the world will be one head then, No we dont want such world do we!

 

Extracted from Sadhguru Know yourself edition.

Trying

Leave a comment

These days, imagination seems more real than the real life..I feel perplexed many times  waking up and feeling misplaced, adjusted in the different room and different perspectives. Its been adjustment, after the year 72 that shook me so hard, I am adjusting my emotional aloofness from the supposedly closed ones to sediment and let me decant off translucent. I am trying.

I also feel mispalced,  finding myself in the class full of young students, (trying) teaching, I had  hold the  vision of myself being that confident, profoundly knowledge enriched teacher (female) in my high school days, I wonder if  I have become one, (less the profoundly enriched). But In the fifty some loaded classroom, I seek,  in the juvenile faces, myself , my mates, my age and my time, it pinches me somewhere and I feel euphoric in nostalgia, I get overwhelmed to see how far I have come, what have left behind, who are left behind. it aches and bleeds, to bid byes to the naiveness of juveniles.

But in beneath the adult apparel, I find in me the same myself. I love the ride, lot have changed, less have made difference, many things have been just continuation and surplus, and somethings will never be same again. But I feel I am always the same, from when I was a gauche teenagers, to whatever I am today.

Meanwhile,  I think I am in transitory state. I dont know the transition yet, But I feel I am holding a feet in air to  step  into wherever, may be there will be a destined path, may be I will paved a path, May be I will fly by. May be.

In the regular life, I have come to take things lightly (trying), and amidst everything that keeps happening, I only wish things become regular, normal. I wish normal days, even though normal is these exhausting series of boring days, occupying into minutes, among people in formal decorum, the professional becomes  survival when personal are too painful to think of. Same talks, same nagging, same complains and same lingering, that is job, but thats ok, let it be normal. I don’t have energy/excitment left for expectation to surprise me. I wonder, and to my surprise, I don’t want (can’t handle ) any celebration, It mocks me. I hide past everything that makes me visible in their pictures, and priorities. I thought it was painful to be alone in eateries, and now I sigh relief to find empty table, I sneak in odd hours for lunch just to avoid people. May be this is a kind of transition as well.

More you are edged, you tend to understand your real self..less hesitant to do what you wanted to do.  Its thrilling to come out real and exposed, Its better, to be able to be so, its hard and difficult and judgemental and everything but again in amidst the insecurities,

if your heart still holds desires, you are brave.

if you are true in heart, you are brave

if you feel right, you are right.

I am unambigiously right.

(I am trying to believe what I have written.)

And from all this comes the liberation of being yourself.  Contrast and Complements are only the adjectives, let me be noun. Realizing it is definitely hard, but  all I am doing is trying. “Acceptance” I need to try harder.

The bunch of realization (and this past year have been a year full of realization) becomes cumulation to conclusions about things we believe.  But to summarize things in simplicity is hard, often so much that I fail to persist on it. But again I am trying.

Somebody have said it so true, the most difficult part is to make things simple. To make things simple, one needs to understand the dynamics of every difficulties it holds. Life then, how much dimensions of difficulties to understand to simplify it. Let me try.

Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: