Dipatches from Living

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What do you know about living–
The man who died a thousand suns ago
The dancing and the grinning
The lights of the dreamy, dreary shows
The illusions in the darkness,
The light within the foes
What do you know of living–
The dead man from ages ago
Smiling and jeering
Coughing and sneering
The drinks and the drugs
Drinking the wine of shadows
Eating the fruit of deceit
The lustful faces of ghosts
The greedy turfs of the libels
The man who knew of living–
Yes, he died long ago

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Microcosm of a Mirage of being Mesmerized.

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What is a mirror image? What is it? We all know the answer. But we don’t.

In this microcosm–we are a part of a mirage–of being spellbound, mesmerized. We don’t quite know it, but only because the illusion engulfs us.

But why are we mesmerized in the first place? Because we choose that over reality. Because we are in fact just scared of the truth. And the truth is–that no matter who is there by your side, how many people, pets and friends or lovers–we are alone.

Alone as the space. Empty as the space.

But where did this mirage come from–why is it there? The reason being the fact that we choose being spellbound over reality–the mirage is nothing more than a smoke screen. if the mirage wasn’t there–we’d know the truth. The truth will snap at us.

Truth. What a horrifying word.

Reality. What an abhorrent word.

but these two go hand in hand.

Truth is that this macrocosm will end one day–ending with it the microcosm we are a part of. But we suppress this fact. We linger in hope for continuity. We ignore it.

But our life is a sham.

It is a prose that no one understands–poetry that everyone rejects. Of course there is music in the background–we move to it. But that music is a mirage too.

How do we cater to all this? How do we take it all in, in one go?

We don’t because we cant because we choose not to.

The happy faces–the mesmerized state is but a mirage. You learn that life is a beautiful tragedy. You lean on people who are nothing but a wisp of smoke.

Love–hate. Smile–tears. Happy–sad. Easy–hard.

These are just states. In a transition. Life–death.

You are enough, yet you fall short of yourself.

But we happily linger because we are confused of everything–but we linger in our microcosm which is a mirage of being mesmerized. Because that is what our instinct tells us to do.

We never find out about this microcosm of a mirage of being mesmerized. We don’t dig the layers because it will reveal to us the truth.

Truth. What a pitiable illusion about reality.

Reality. What a curse.

Man

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Man has nowhere to go. he is of the earth they say,

But the earth is never his.

He kills and he is killed–he is not safe

Nature bestows but it also takes

Man has nowhere to be

He has developed wings, so he may take charge of the sky

But the sky is just as malevolent–it takes charge of man.

Man has nowhere to hide

He can swim like a fish, in waters deep and freshBut the water devours him

It just makes him bones rot

Man has nowhere to hide

He gets warmth from the fire–which burns him up

It leaves no flesh nor bone

It preys on his blood

Man has nowhere to go

Man has nowhere to hide

Man is the king yet killed like a pest

Man is nowhere safe

Of kites, flying, and freedom.

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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 you are, you will feel your hearth thump. It will beat. It will race. Against the closed and cold walls it is heavily guarded with.

No matter what you feel right now. No matter how you got to this point. Remember i will be waiting for you at the end of the tunnel of darkness. I will be there to hold your hand and walk with you, the day you gather the energy.

I will help you feel better. I will wipe the tears, your tears. I will give you courage and strength the moment you are too weak. I will be your breath, if you ever feel like giving up on life.

You know what they call me don’t you. They call me Freedom. And i am yours.

The Moon Is Down.

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Some say that the moon is for the lonesome to talk to. But the truth is, that the moon can not help.

You would talk to it, but i wont talk back.

Its just there..just like you are.

It is just like you. Its just there..standing.

But it is bright and you are not.

It gives light..and you do not.

You might get sick and tired of just lying there and wondering how many more days you will be sad and lonely.

And you cry alone in the night..and while doing so you wonder how many more nights you will be crying alone and making sure no one notices.

And some days you laugh..and wonder when will you be able to laugh again.

But you do not know the answers because the moon does not answer it cannot answer you , it does not talk, it is just there and you are still lonely.

You know then, you are not like the moon.

You are different.

Its bright and you are not.

The similarity is that you both are alone and no one understands you.

No one tries.

They just ask you what…they never ask why!

The moon has stars to keep it company.

You are all alone.

Yes, the moon is for the lonesome to talk to, but after they are done talking..they are still lonely, while the moon just made a friend.

But you know…atleast you tried!