There are a few things in the world that are sublime..that not just touch your heart but enter and stay..
like watching a movie on your laptop with earphones; one side in my ear, the other in my beloved's.
FC Barcelona's game. with any opponent. The tiki-taka.
The National Anthem by the deaf and mute children in the movie hall.
A certain strain of a certain song.
The smart repartee of KM
Taking a lingering long bath, lying in a bathtub.
Soft sunlight filtering through the leaves in a thicket.
Beats of a tap dance.
Gypsy eyes.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Sunday, 31 July 2011
Monday, 13 July 2009
Walks Revisited
Was wondering do walks rejuvenate.
From absolute morbidity and a chore it revitalizes and regains the purpose. It again has the spring, is ready to walk all the walks it had walked earlier and discover many more.
The Lovers walk with assurance of life-long togetherness. The tiff still making me sad but with the knowledge at home she is there waiting for me. The caring walk in the lawns with my Inamorata as she is all swollen with my love in the belly carrying the other life which would be a gift from her. That walk of extreme concern, slow now, fast then, shaking, praying, worried walk of mine as the my Life gifts me a new life. On a cry that uncontrolled running to see that tiny one and kiss the drained but ecstatic woman of mine. When that tiny little girl is in my arms and the girl who made it possible is strolling along with me. And then a day when I walk with tiny steps with a toddler with her fingers in my hand. Learn to take the steps of life again, relearn the beauty of life. The faltering steps of which I am the strength.
Then slowly the growing with content steps slow and assured. Filled with Love and imbued with life lived walk. Slowly it transforming into faltering walk of old age. More of slow steps walking to revisit the old places which we visited when young.
Then the final walk in the clouds with her forever together in Life walk of mine with her.
Yes you can reclaim your walk and Thank You Life for that...
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
Laughter by Neruda
Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.
My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.
My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.
Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.
My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.
My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.
Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.
Saturday, 20 December 2008
Monday, December 31, 2007
Walks and Life
I have this thing about walking. Walking has never been just a part of my system or a chore which you do it unconsciously. It is not that I am conscious and aware and go gaga over the fact that I am walking. Again for me it is not just a utilitarian system of transporting one’s body from point A to point B. It has been idiom of life itself; reflections of various moods and shades of life; that of the state of my life. My pet quote; my Plea; my only expectation from those whom I love; has been; Love me or hate me- fill with me life or kill me – but don’t walk over me. It is different matter, that besides my mother every one of them has exactly done so. Anyway, like quickening of heart when you are in love; my feet have been spring footed when in love. When in anxiety like heart skips a beat; my foot step mis-steps a step. And I have observed that when you see that someone special and your hearts just skips a beat; my foot has skipped the act of taking that step.
I look back and I see my life changing and so has nature of my walk. I was young and really in hurry, in hurry to take on life. I would climb stairs two to three steps at a time. I was always one who walked very fast and if walking alone would take short sprints in between. Life was like spring and so was my walk springy and sprightly. That was the phase in life, like million others I was single. And in life full of never ending hurriedness; unquenchable thirst to quickly grab the life in all shades with stars in my eyes that every youth has, I would be hurrying around with life. My steps matching it in pace. Then all of a sudden a clinking laughter would make you pause in your walk. Steps would freeze in wrap of time. It would on its own turn to seek that laughter. Or a quick glance of eye which has thousand meaning has the capacity to level you with one look; can freeze your legs, make you turn and make you hurry to catch that same bus.
Then you fall in love. And find the magic of leisurely walk. A walk on most crowded of streets but you’re oblivious of it all. Your steps match the warmth of your heart and take light small steps. Your feet’s are attentive at the same time so that you can quickly clear any obstacle in your beloved’s path, clear the way and guide her. Or that careless walk where you invariably swerve closer to each other and then slightly brush with each other. Then move away a bit again to come back. I don’t know the reason but maybe the design of feet’s itself to enjoy the magic of courtship. You feel so contented, so elated. The careless leisurely walks with its slight bodily brushes, elbows and arms brushing each other as warm conversations flow. Dreams are dreamt and beautiful world created. The magical world takes shape. When you drop her back home you come back with spring in your foot (when elated); slowly (when you contemplate); brusquely (when had a tiff) and extra slow oblivious to world; tripping and colliding when dreaming.
And now, when it is over and not over. Over as she is gone but not over as feeling has not gone; would never go. For first time you actually watch your feet as your heads and shoulders keep drooping. It is absolutely purposeless, defeated, dragging and morbid walk. You do not care. But it is not careless elated walk of youth. It is slower than slow motion. It is a chore. You have to walk on as you have to. It is dull, choice less, and purposeless. Dragging walk as your any way dragging life.Then a day would come when your feet would freeze forever. Waiting for that day. I don’t want to leave footprint of mine on sands of time. I have spared my feet from this difficult chore. Anyway who has been able to leave foot prints on sands of time. Only footprints which remains is that which you carry in your soul and heart. Sometimes it is beautiful soft touches sometimes it is trodden upon.
Posted by Critical Sophist at 6:32 PM
1 comments:
Rishi.... said...
tum jo chalo to hum bhi chale saath phir kya khabar ki din hai ki raat bas main nahi rahenge jazbaat tum to sanam humare chalo saath.......... awesome peace.... me too feel like walking for the sake of it... not been fortunate enough to drop her home.. to walk ever beside her or feel the walk u r talkin abt... :)
January 7, 2008 1:06 PM
Walks and Life
I have this thing about walking. Walking has never been just a part of my system or a chore which you do it unconsciously. It is not that I am conscious and aware and go gaga over the fact that I am walking. Again for me it is not just a utilitarian system of transporting one’s body from point A to point B. It has been idiom of life itself; reflections of various moods and shades of life; that of the state of my life. My pet quote; my Plea; my only expectation from those whom I love; has been; Love me or hate me- fill with me life or kill me – but don’t walk over me. It is different matter, that besides my mother every one of them has exactly done so. Anyway, like quickening of heart when you are in love; my feet have been spring footed when in love. When in anxiety like heart skips a beat; my foot step mis-steps a step. And I have observed that when you see that someone special and your hearts just skips a beat; my foot has skipped the act of taking that step.
I look back and I see my life changing and so has nature of my walk. I was young and really in hurry, in hurry to take on life. I would climb stairs two to three steps at a time. I was always one who walked very fast and if walking alone would take short sprints in between. Life was like spring and so was my walk springy and sprightly. That was the phase in life, like million others I was single. And in life full of never ending hurriedness; unquenchable thirst to quickly grab the life in all shades with stars in my eyes that every youth has, I would be hurrying around with life. My steps matching it in pace. Then all of a sudden a clinking laughter would make you pause in your walk. Steps would freeze in wrap of time. It would on its own turn to seek that laughter. Or a quick glance of eye which has thousand meaning has the capacity to level you with one look; can freeze your legs, make you turn and make you hurry to catch that same bus.
Then you fall in love. And find the magic of leisurely walk. A walk on most crowded of streets but you’re oblivious of it all. Your steps match the warmth of your heart and take light small steps. Your feet’s are attentive at the same time so that you can quickly clear any obstacle in your beloved’s path, clear the way and guide her. Or that careless walk where you invariably swerve closer to each other and then slightly brush with each other. Then move away a bit again to come back. I don’t know the reason but maybe the design of feet’s itself to enjoy the magic of courtship. You feel so contented, so elated. The careless leisurely walks with its slight bodily brushes, elbows and arms brushing each other as warm conversations flow. Dreams are dreamt and beautiful world created. The magical world takes shape. When you drop her back home you come back with spring in your foot (when elated); slowly (when you contemplate); brusquely (when had a tiff) and extra slow oblivious to world; tripping and colliding when dreaming.
And now, when it is over and not over. Over as she is gone but not over as feeling has not gone; would never go. For first time you actually watch your feet as your heads and shoulders keep drooping. It is absolutely purposeless, defeated, dragging and morbid walk. You do not care. But it is not careless elated walk of youth. It is slower than slow motion. It is a chore. You have to walk on as you have to. It is dull, choice less, and purposeless. Dragging walk as your any way dragging life.Then a day would come when your feet would freeze forever. Waiting for that day. I don’t want to leave footprint of mine on sands of time. I have spared my feet from this difficult chore. Anyway who has been able to leave foot prints on sands of time. Only footprints which remains is that which you carry in your soul and heart. Sometimes it is beautiful soft touches sometimes it is trodden upon.
Posted by Critical Sophist at 6:32 PM
1 comments:
Rishi.... said...
tum jo chalo to hum bhi chale saath phir kya khabar ki din hai ki raat bas main nahi rahenge jazbaat tum to sanam humare chalo saath.......... awesome peace.... me too feel like walking for the sake of it... not been fortunate enough to drop her home.. to walk ever beside her or feel the walk u r talkin abt... :)
January 7, 2008 1:06 PM
Monday, November 12, 2007
Pablo Neruda... On Loving & Not Loving
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from not loving to loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story
I am the one whoDies, the only one,and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood
Pablo Neruda... On Loving & Not Loving
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from not loving to loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story
I am the one whoDies, the only one,and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood
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