Dear Fragments of Such and Such.

It is often unbelievable isn’t it. You are fragments of such and such–and I am a small fragment of life. But then it is bewildering because life itself is a fragment of something bigger.

We are all fragments. All broken away. All scattered. Humans, all of them are pieces of a mirror. A huge mirror–broken and scattered. We all have to find each other. Make a connection. Bond. And become a whole again. But is it possible? You tell me– O Fragments of Such and Such.

For instance, Time is a fragment of a higher order. How solitary that is. It is called *Father Time* yet is is a small part of nature.

So by and by–we all revolveĀ  around each other, we are all fragments. We are fragments which revolve around other fragments–hoping to catch attention. Hoping to bond. Hoping. Is hope a fragment too?

Fragments of Such and Such–maybe we have come across somewhere. Who knows. But there will be a day when all of us, fragments and all, will combine together, either for destruction or maybe for construction.

Till then,

Fragmentally Yours


Translucent, lucid, pellucid.


While the world takes a chance and turns over, light travels at a particular speed. And humans, and animals and birds and the dead..allĀ  come under one roof. And all wonder, what is lucid? Translucent? Pellucid?

While there is war–between mind and heart–on what is clarity and what is war, the world twists and turns.

“It will have blood; they say–blood will have blood”

While they chant slogans and fill out their holy books with words, and leave it to people to form the meaning, blood has blood. It is always an eye for an eye. Ash to ash, dust to dust.

“How oft i have though of thee”

Where did clarity go? Was it ever there in the first place?

While light falls everywhere, making it so bright, so dull, they wonder.

But do they? Turn off all the thoughts. Shut down the machine.

“The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day”

They all wonder–where did the light go.

While it is hot, the sun is angry–hot like hell–sweat crawls up our body, a butterfly, no a moth circles around light.

While they all wonder where did the rays of hope have gone off to.

Who seeks clarity? Those who become a part of smoke? Or those who are crystal?

What is lucid. What is clarity?

While they seek redemption–the world twists and turns, leaving the people to chant slogans or to finding meaning in words from holy books, going..going, gone…to a world of illusions.

Where is the light coming from? Where did it fall?




You ever felt this way before? Had you ever so many questions to ask?

Questions about life. Questions about faith?

Questions about God. Questions about death?

There is confusion.


There is destruction.




Rotten with fear. Burning in anguish.

Mere contemplation.


What is a question without a definition?

Till death do apart–is it a question or mere interpretation!

They die, so some go to heaven and others to hell.

Is it a fact or is it a question.

What is that force called, which changes the season?

If i say God, is it an answer or a question for a question?

Where does the tree come from.

Are we humans? But that is a joke.


Why? What? How? Why?