insignificant, realy

Trains always make me introspective.

The ever-so-eager rhythm and the restlessly changing landscape, the pitch darkness outside, the smell of fresh air, especially when I stand by the door and smoke and let the wind run wild through my hair; all this, while life whizzes by like a constant blur.

I sometimes fancy living a small life. Possibly in the larger scheme of things, I already am. ‘An extra in the coffeshop window’ for the passerby; the passerby with a myriad of entangled stories, just like mine; only, in his universe I am merely a countenance-less face in the window his side vision registered for a brief second.

Nevertheless, in my fancy, I sometimes live a life, far more insignificant, by perhaps my own standards. A life, in a small hut by the train tracks, with that sole lantern lighting up the verandah at dusk, while I lay on my cot, and let the sound of the trains lull me to sleep. Maybe in that world, I wouldn't suffer from insomnia. I’d wake up to the sunrise, finish my daily chores and then while the rest of the day away, into the sunset, listening to ancient tales from yet more ancient grandfathers, all the time playing with pebbles and bringing some back even, to add to my ever growing, proud collection of knick-knacks.

 Maybe in that world, I’d smile back uninhibited, at smiling strangers, instead of tightening my grip around the can of pepper spray I don’t leave home without; maybe I’d trust people simply because I’ve never known otherwise, instead of continually looking for the minutest clue that would give away the catch; maybe the tiniest gesture of love, and its remnants, would make my day for months, years perhaps, instead of merely brewing bitterness at expectations having been dashed. Maybe, I’d also have the capacity to see black and white distinctly, and to tell them apart, instead of straining my eyes each time, to correctly identify the precise shade of grey. A world, where I’d not do anything remotely revolutionary, make no difference to the inane frenzy the world thrives in, have no self-acclaimed-earth-shattering revelation  about the general anguish of life and yet lead a content life.

A world where I’d not be expected to do any more than light up someone’s world, with a cup of tea and a smile. Their smile, in turn, would light up mine.

Maybe in that world I’d stop and look at every passing train, scourging out strangers waving to me from the train, in the midst of their destination-less journey and wave back to them. All the time, fervently wishing, their life was mine!

Existential,even

Estatic

Ludicrous.

Effervescent

Omnipresent, still

Brazen reality

sorely surreal

Fluttering thoughts

Nesting, resting

Killing time

Killing you

Perhaps sooner.

Cold and meandering

Scathed and scratched

A blur of colours

Blinded

By black light

Pause. Stay. Hurry

Tch!

Blisters.

They conspire with

Blemishless brevity.

Some others...

Some half built ruins

Some slated grains

Some unkempt stories,

Some others, that perished in the making

A delicate thread of tumult

Balancing the reigns, forgo

Threatening to relinquish the anchor

Ah! I’ve lost to the sea, eons ago.

Some caves unexplored

Some claim my attention still

Some I choose to trample over

Some lost battles I fight unyielding.

The Black Parts Need To Te Loved As Well

She said it, right after my own heart...


Selah Sue - Black Part Love!

You're freezed and I tried to make you,
You're freezed and I tried to make you warm, cause you always got what it takes to act like you are some kind of hard-ass
But I know better than that, I know you way to long,

You see I know 'bout your background,
It wasn't easy I know for sure,
But that's no reason to crack
It's in the ( unknown word ) to let it go,
Be who you are now, who you're supposed to be,

Now listen girl, learn how to love your self again,
And then just fly out girl, cause you are worth it, oh..

You fell and I tried to get you,
You fell and I tried to get you up,
cause when things don't work out " Oh, no!"
You shut yourself up let it all just drop,
But that's not the way it works,
That is not the way it works,

And I know that it's easy, it's easy to hurt yourself,
but then you must realize, the black parts need to be loved as well, oh yeah
The black parts need to be loved as well,

Listen girl, do you understand what I'm saying?
I know that one day you will get there,
One day, yeah, yeah, yeah,

Listen girl, listen girl, oh oh yeah..
Listen girl, listen girl, oh oh yeah..

You better find your love, you better go insane, find your love and find your way!!!
I know you're on the run, I know you watched it
This is all I got to say, this is all I got to say, say, say, say!
I know one day, I know one day, I know one day, I know that one day you'll get there, yeah, yeah,
but I know that one day you will get there, one day, yeah yeah

Now listen girl, learn how to love your self again,
And then just fly out girl, cause you are worth it, you're worth it!!

;)

'...Because we've shared some laughs together'

Through the looking glass

'plus les choses changent, plus elles restent les mêmes'

They say, the more things change, the more they remain the same.

Strange, are the ways of life. Stranger, is the fact that, i came across this phrase today, when less than another sunrise-sunset cycle ago, i was chuckling at how almost everything goes on and around, in one huge, inevitable circle, like the ancient Ouroborus, who forever, kept chasing his tail. And all the while you deludedly think, you have changed; and hence things around you have changed simultaneously, much credit to the laws of nature/physics/history, whichever appeals to your palette. One large circle, that you think, you have shaped, if not designed, and redesigned often, while Life, patiently hopes that someday, you will wake up and realize that while you were very much in control, hardly anything has changed, and that's precisely why. It is the same pattern, drawn over and over again, through different axes, through varying dimensions, masked in enticing colors, fooling you into seeing shapes, but essentially, in its naked best, just that; the same circle. A kaleidoscope, yes...but just some broken shards of colored glass.
Maybe, you were looking through the looking glass. Maybe, you only saw your reflection.

And patterns, i've grown to dislike. Whether they be mine, or they belong to someone else. Or whether they belong to me and someone else... especially  that, also.
I sometimes, fancy myself and question why. An answer, though, doesn't quite come by. Somewhere, i know the answer though, though, not yet, not as yet. It is usually, a me who stares back, or maybe, just maybe, that is what i have chosen to see. Sometimes, i acknowledge, i have looked away. 

Someone once told me, between two devils, choose the one that you never have before!

Some, though, never wake up from this slumber of seeming control. Sometimes, i really envy them, because they will have never known how foolish you feel in hindsight; at some other more self indulgent times, i pity them too. It sure does feel a stronger woman, to have faced it, confronted it even, but then again, i've always played the 'Superwoman'. So much so, that i have, almost, become one. But then, a superhero, without as much superpower, is only, an anomaly. And as I battle a seemingly different situation, with a seemingly different me, each time, I find an insignificant relic of an older me, each time. I wonder then, through various cities, various jobs, various houses, various men, various friends, various mistakes, various situations, various people, that i have encountered, masked and unmasked, lived and loved, and not, is it still the same things i will choose every time. A more evolved me emerges each time, as it should. Yet, then too, it still is the kaleidoscope, seen from a different angle this time. And, what an enticing color you see, at each of these fanciful times! heh!

You always go back to the same  you. The same habits, the same patters, the same relics. When Life decides to take all your plans and toss them up in one huge pan, spice them up, sauce them up, garnish and give you a new dish altogether, you'd hardly try to use chopsticks, if you were me! 

Between the ravages of life and your own indulgent self, there is, constantly a battle that is waiting to be won. Again, perhaps, it is only a self imposed battle. To feel a little more significant, or to slip under the easy cover of anonymity; both and none, sometimes together. As i shift from one city to another, from one make-shift house to another make-shift wardrobe, i sometimes cannot help but wonder if i will ever find home, or if i will ever 'stay long enough to make it'! Then, at the next moment, i only laugh at my own follies, as i did now. What exactly, is it that i want?
No, don't bother answering that! I never did.


...

Quirks; eccentricities.

This, that,
every now and then
the flash of a blink
every now and then

Some stay
some just pass you by
some stand and watch
while you hold its glare

Sometimes calm
restlessly still
rigid even;
teh this and then teh that!

Quirks; eccentricities.
Sometimes they manifest themselves stronger than at some other times. I'm a woman, i can blame it on hormones, at most times. Irrespective. Often, most often, they remain reason-less; just quirks.


PS: my third cup of the early morning (read, continuation of previous night) lebu cha tastes warm and delicious. On a rainy morning, or a night; who knows!