Why Things Happen?!


Silent Observer

Things just happen don’t they. Good things and the bad things. And they have been happening for a long time. And will keep coming up. But why things happen?

Human life is whacked up and screwed? No. It is the people which make it so. And people will keep on making it so. Humans are trashed and what not.

Now for instance…nah forget it.

Why things happen?!

Is it written somewhere? It isn’t. We get top write for ourselves. We get to pick the words and actions. We get a choice. We choose. And we apply the actions and speak the words. And it all leads to things.

So things happen and we get to learn from them and talk about them…and forget them. So things happen because we let them happen. It is not like a super sonic waste.

It just is. We get a choice. We are choosers…

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The Grand Illusion


Silent Observer

We–are all, everyone of us, a part of this grand deception. This great illusion. The illusion being that we are not alone. We may have many people by our side. We may have a family. And a million friends. And we may be perfectly bonded and in tune with the nature. But, we are all alone. Each and every one of us. We are all fragile. And we all have this need to grow apart from everything and everyone. This need is the reality. And when we do move apart from the millions of faces and the thousand and one voices—we linger on quietly in a world that is created for the lonely. We sit there and stare and ponder. We are meant to be alone.

This is the grand illusion–crowds.

And so—we hear music.

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Of kites, flying, and freedom.


Silent Observer

Man. Man is a mortal being. A creature who is solitary yet social. He is free yet chained. He has a vortex of emotions within him. Man…is dimensionless.

I am a Kite, full of colors. I fly high. I reach the end of the skies. I play with the wind. I  wade through it. When there are two like me, i play along with it. We tussle. We flutter. We come near. We move apart. Yet a time will come, when i will cut its strings..or it will cut mine.

Have you ever experienced the rush. Closing your eyes and feeling the wind hit your face. The feeling of letting it go maybe? Have you ever been able to fly? And opening your eyes to see and feel and hear the wind rush by you. Descended in air.

With or without wings. No matter how far you go…or how near…

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Never is always
Always, never
Sorrows are fading
Fading, never
Memories are overpowering
Overpowering, never
Love is begotten
Begotten, never
Fear is forgotten
Forgotten, never
Life is death
Death, never
Happiness is love
Love, never
Never is always
Always, never



Shards of broken down time
Your hand in mine
A blackbird flew over the trees
The mountains hid the sunset
Your hand in mine
Glory days which are and were
Next would be dunes of sand
Buried deeply in a death sublime
The broken dreams were bigger
Than broken shadows
And promises which were kept alive
Your hand in mine
Till the day I change the course
Of the tides
Till the day I turn into a stone
Till the moment I cannot wait
And see the devil I have become
And the purity quite there
Hidden under the world that was never

My hand in mine
And eyes drifting away
Watching the blackbird turn grey



Surrender now!
O ye ghosts of passion
For if the night sways forth
Then there will be crimes
And then ballads written
And yearning will take place
Like white crystals along a hazy daze
Or a black sky
And lanterns made of pearls
And red silken blood
So who will the daybreak take
As its rabid hero
Who hath turned into a villain
And so
All the bonds were broken
Among the filthy rags
Which we call men
O ghosts of wisdom
Come take their place
Those who were dark wisps
Of grey



“Look out for the summer within the weather with the autumn-y eyes the cloudy mind and those winter laden eyes which have seen the Monsoon rains shower or perhaps that heart made from the Hurricane which swipes away the land and leave behind a spring–of rosy lush with green brazen hills which look like the rustic evening of a day which is draped with ornaments from the night. Yes you! You with summer foreclosed and winter foretold and with the winds of change. the unconquerable ones. Shadows and fog like dances of the wolves, the Summer would cease and alive shall you be. Yes, you!”