Anaahat

Maybe it is time to turn to the old paper and ink Maybe it is time to redefine the necessities  And separate the luxuries Time to walk the skyscrapers The bridges, the skywalks To sit in sweat soaked taxi seats Time to get drenched under the umbrella Time to end an era And go back to the roots  that have bled for me

It’s an easy slip, one thought, one irrational act, one memory or one word from the wrong file of fact, and the castle of peace, of silence, of manna, threatens to collapse. An apparition you see, of debris near your feet, the bricks and mortar of the castle you built, for a silenced mind, and an lightened soul. And with one irrational act, one memory, the castle of manna, threatens to collapse.

The moon is brightest today. One of those days when I want to capture it somewhere. Yet, I do not. I simply gaze at it. It has been a bitter-sweet day. One of those days when I realise I am different than others. A few years back, I would fight this difference to become one with others. I would want to be anonymous. But not anymore.

The last few minutes before Shuti left her home, usually decided her day ahead. IF she was late, there was no forgiving herself. She would go through the entire day with an internal whip slaying her soul. If she was just on time, she told herself tomorrow she will be early. If she was before time, she would kill herself with the pressure to perform consistently tomorrow and the rest of the week. But she had started her day pretty early today. She had woken up with 2 hours in hand before her estimated time to leave home. But then, she just sat on her rocking chair and kept staring outside the window, soaking in the silence. It was as if she was in a trance. The questions regarding the purpose of life, regarding the weight of knowledge, of growth, of growing seemed to be on hold at these moments. Just sitting and breathing were a good enough reason to live. Sometimes she felt she could just sit like this. For hours. For days. Forever. She got up after a while. Suddenly her purpose shi...

Thank You It is an overwhelming feeling. To be able to see my writing in these pages here. To experience that others read and find something that touches their lives. And so I want to express my gratitude. With thanksgiving around the corner, it is an apt time to thank. I thank the universe for continually inspiring me. For throwing me in situations that make me think. For all the soul-churning experiences that have made me, me. That make me want to write. To explore my limits through these limitless possibilities of words and punctuation. I thank you, dear reader. For the occasions that you land on this page. With all the sadness these writings hold, you sometimes read, you sometimes comment. And leave me encouraging words. I thank all people in my life that make me experience life as I do. Writing is a solitary activity. What I write comes just from within. After days of churning my insides with the thoughts and ideas. There are days when I do not want to speak at all. The ...

There have been days, moments spent in anticipation to know this feeling of seeing you see me of a growing sense of self conjuring up as you look at me. And now that i have you. at an arm's distance, with wondrous eyes searching mine i do not know what to do. There are days, moments spent in abandon, when romance is just being with you, knowing you are present, when in spite of myself, and my idea of my feminine freedom, i feel i belong here, with you, to you. Then there are days, when you still look at me, with those searching, probing eyes, and when you see me more than i ever thought myself to be, when you take my hand, willing time to slow down, when you fill my spaces when there was no yesterday, no tomorrow, and the spiritual space of now, exists right now only with you. There are still other times when i doubt you exist, when i think that the fairy tales and folk t...

There is a buzz of the vehicles There is a buzz of televissions some barks some loud voices some alarm clocks, a little rain falling on the trees, swoosh of the tyres