The idealist,
The individualist,
The purist,
The humanist,
Are all
At the receiving end
Of many a fist.
More so,
If they are
The same person.
musings
Stars and Clouds
If humans become stars when we die, do animals become clouds?
Makes sense. Humans seem to have a need – or eons of conditioning – to shine, to appear bright, to stand out. Animals are soft and fluffy, inside and outside, and are happy with gently moving from one station in life to another. Clouds seem their perfect post-life entities.
But when clouds rain, does that mean animals are peeing on us? No, like in life, they are merely marking their territory. “Hooman, you are mine. Then, now, forever.”
Suddenly, you look forward to the rains.
Make or Break
When people pass on, whether in old age or youth, by disease or accident, by chance or crime, they are broken in every way. Broken by life, broken in spirit, and if departing “before their time”, then broken seemingly by a cruel play of fate. Why then is dying called meeting the maker and not meeting the… breaker?
Tortured Soul
Tortured souls
Are tortured so
Because they listen
Not to the ways of the world
But to the whispers of the soul
On a Prayer and a Wing
In India, a pedestrian – I read somewhere – has to be a ninja. All alert, all the time. For speedsters can come from anywhere. The wrong side of the road. A one-way. The pavement. From the front and back… at the same time.
Forget ninja. I think, to survive on foot on Indian roads, you need to be very, very religious. You need to pray a lot at every crossing.
Or, you need to be a sparrow. Small. Nimble. Fleet-footed. Fleet-winged. Alert. Accompanied by even more alert wingmen. (I notice the pun only now.) This of course is only till the day Indian riders and drivers figure out a way to come from where no speedster has come before – the sky and below the ground. Then, sparrows are – this pun I see coming – sitting ducks. Just like the Indian pedestrian.
Backed Up
On a bleak day,
The sun on your back,
In some way,
Feels like god’s got your back.
Heartbreak High
If you live with many others, your heartbreak has to happen in silence.
If you live with no one, your heartbreak is met with silence.
…
How do you get heartbreak tears to stop?
Tear out the eyes?
Or tear out the heart?
…
Some heartbreaks should be measured on the Richter Scale.
Calling Time
When the pockets are empty
And the joints are jangling,
When the heart is heavy
And the soul is full,
Maybe that’s when life calls time
On our time.
(Full)Filling Our Purpose
I read somewhere sometime back that our purpose on earth, our purpose in (this) life is the completion of the soul. So far, of all the statements of our purpose on earth I have come across, that resonates the most. Perhaps because it is about something I fascinate about the most, the soul.
So, that explains when someone passes away, I guess: they have managed the completion of their soul. What then of the folk who pass away early? Does that mean they managed the completion of their soul very fast? Maybe. And what of folk who pass away in old age, some even past 100? Does the completion of their soul take so long? If so, why? Do they do it… so slowly? Hmm, I guess it only means… they have very big souls to fill.
Micro Musings | It’s Simple
Ignorant Facebook. With its “It’s Complicated” relationship status. Doesn’t it know that anything that involves “us” is always complicated?
