Month: March 2016

Little Secret #5 Seeking Inspiration

I am quite a cynical person to be honest.
I don’t trust easily.

Skepticism has always coloured my world view.

However time and again I have come to realise that deep within me, I am  hopeful.
I try to, involunatarily, seek inspiration from silly mundane, routine activities.

For instance, everyday on my way to class I cross this bench which says

Turtles can fly.”

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There is no context to this.

Who is MS?

Was the person who wrote this high/drunk?

If we take the sentence to be true,
then what type of turtles?
Can all turtles fly?

What about tortoises?

Do turtles sprout wings?

Or are they trained air benders?

Where do they fly to?

And if they can really fly, why haven’t we ever encountered one.

The possibilities are endless.

But everyday, when I cross this bench it reminds how self belief and determination are key to growth.
If a turtle can believe in itself and be determined to fly, I am pretty sure he will find a way.
And so can I.

Turtles are quite relateable.
They are closed to the outside world in a shell. They may think their shell is strong enough but something do find a way of pinching through. I imagine they also get picked on by the rest of the fauna.
They are burdened by their own defence mechanism.
Yet however they try to slowly reach where they belong.
They are wise beyond their age and very perceptive.

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You may think it silly how a random silly grafitti can inspire such thoughts.
But in this world where I believe that everyone and everything is bent upon bringing me down this is quite uplifting.

None of my classmates had actually noticed it until I brought it to their attention, and they didn’t give it a single thought.

However, I don’t really understand why, it has impacted me profoundly.
I smile everytime I cross this bench and thank ‘MS’ for scribbling.

So yes, in my cynical, cold hearted, rational mind… I would like to believe that turtles can fly.

Is there any such silly, mundane thing that has inspired you? Or affected you in a profound way. I would love to hear more such instances. (I can’t be the only crazy one here! 😛 )

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Home – Little Poem #29

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Home is not a house,
Not a city, state, country,
or any of the time zones.

Home is where my soul sighs,
Where I can rest my broken bones.

All my life we have been shifting. I have studied in 10 schools and lived in about 8 cities and roughly 12 houses. ‘Home’ for me is wherever my family is, irrespective of space or time. Because only they have been truly constant.

Who or where is home for you?

Little Secret # 4 The city and its people

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When I think about the passing day in a city. I like to think of the two as bound in a unique relationship.

As the day comes to an end, you can feel the city slowing down.
Those hustling bustling roads become calmer.
Light slithers away from lanes and alleys.
Lighting up lost corners as it goes.

The wind howls through, bidding adieu to weary travellers, as it gathers up the rustling leaves, and memories of a day gone by; all enroute home.
The city glows dim and yawns. Stretches and relaxes.

As the day comes to an end the city is the home for some and reminds of home to others.
The people retreat and so does the city, into a deep slumber.
To meet again in the morning and come back to life.
For one is incomplete without the other.

Ghost Lips

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My cold skin against your warm body.
I can still feel your ghost lips.

The way our minds synced and our bodies collided.
Like waves crashing onto the shore..
Passion, lust, thirst for more.
I can still feel your ghost lips.

My heart was broken, my mind was numb.
But you turned my world around.
Your eyes were my scenery, your words my music.
My cold heart was thawed by those lips.

It has been a while now.
You have changed, we have changed.
Even then on dark, lonely nights.
I am haunted by your ghost lips. 

Little Secret #3 Dilemma

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I am often stuck in the dilemma faced by idealists and materialists.

Am I my mind, controlling my body.
Or, am I my body experiencing my mind.

I know scientifically it is a mixture of both. But its good food for thought.

The same I feel about places and people.


Do places make people or do people make places
?

Recently I had the chance to go back to my old college, where I did my graduaion from.
Its almost been a year but as soon as I reached the premises, I felt the same. As if I had to run to room 10 for my lecture on global politics.

After spending everyday in a place for 3 years, you internalise it and memorise it.
My mind travels those pathways and corridors in my dreams.
I know those alleys better than I know myself.

Somewhere, I’d like to believe that the feeling is mutual.

That the place is a breathing, living being.
That it knows me too.
My quirks and habits, the songs I humm.
That it feels incomplete without me.

But that isn’t true, is it.
When I went back I wanted to hug those walls, but I know they wouldnt hug back. It is like unrequited love.

I had the opportunity of painting murals on campus. While I was studying there, those murals seemed my own. I felt a sense of pride. I would pass them everyday and smile.

A year later, they are nothing but just a frame in the long celuloid film of this institute’s life.

Do the people who pass them today, pause and wonder who made them?
Do they smile?

Those murals are for now just a speck in its long history.
For so many hearts beat within its walls, so many voices have echoed through, and will continue to do so.
Was mine heard? Will mine be rememered?

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The murals we painted.
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Another one ...I feel as lost in myself as she is.

You may think I am crazy, for spending my time thinking about such silly things. But thats just how my mind works.
I guess its my loneliness that I am personifying an institution. I dont know. 😛
Just the kind of thoughts that keep swirling in my mind.

Sometimes I wish the cacophony to sweep me under.
Other times I want tear through it.

Have you felt the same about a place? Hope you have a lovely weekend.
Take care.