Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Baware se mann ki dekho... bawaree hain batein...... (mad talks of a mad heart)

After a long long time, today, i feel like writing something .... something of my world and some other world and of some place in between...
of things i have never seen, never touched, but heard their whisper saying they are mine, they are of this world, they are of every one who can claim courage to be a little intoxicated with madness....
of poetry, of prose and the muse behind a veil, changing every moment, waiting to be unveiled and explored in the light of soul not the light of words....
of floating music in the background which never breaks a fragile thread of thought.... of how to preen one's feathers and regain the courage to fly out in the open, in a sometimes hostile sometime adoring world... of seasons gone by and spread of insanity in blood, a poison which transforms and makes one a king and a monk.... of breathing time in and out of one's limbs, one's body.... of looking at burning sky with flames of sun, of silky moonbeam kissing one's closed eyes and waking up into a dream....
of dance of the spirit with a feathery touch of long forgotten memory, out of a much loved story.... of some strokes of pencil about that little fairy-land where one used to have a home....
of some deep sadness which someday flows in veins... of something said and some things never said... of days which brings joys of playful puppies and bird bath, and none.....
of faith, of hope, of love, of betrayal, of hatred and of every thing worth living and dying for..... of being distant with everyone, and close to none....

of women who put kajal in tear stained eyes when the guests are at the gate... of women being restricted to go out in woods, to lie upon the naked body of mother earth.... of killing of bodies to killing of mind, of raping the life to raping the soul.... of occupation of people and of countries.... of intimate violence, of manipulation and subjugation.... of world with big issues and individual lives.... of tiny little angels and Gods to whom every little cloud of prayer rise and reach......

of every thing and nothing.....of myself and you and neighbours, to city-mates and that funny creature i met on my way, and ..... an idea which clinged to my neck till i died .....
of a time to act insane in a crazy crazy world------let me GO, let me BE, let me.... let me...

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