Nimmi...

She gazed in the water, speaking slowly. Her face lit with a thousand shimmering ripples. Wind plays with her hair and a few strands of gold get caught in the corner of her lips.
I fight the urge to reach out gently and free them.

Choice...an illusion? or a consciously epitomized empirical fact leading to existential and tangible outcomes emphasizing the singularity and isolation of human experience in a hostile or indifferent universe? Much has already been said on the subject but the neighboring and parallel factors are seldom discussed. Is choice relative? Much like everything else? What are its limits? How is choice weaved in the fabric of life and death? In the time-space continuum? In the grand scheme of the universe?. More importantly what are conscious and unconscious choices? When is choice not present? or not granted? What choices are pre-made by a supernatural superhuman force? And if the preceding proposals are taken to be true, doesn't choice become a paradox in itself? Isn’t the concept or the very idea of choice rendered void?

We all chose the life we lead. Is it a conscious choice? for most of us most of the time I believe it is not. There is a choice between a life of happiness and a life of meaning that we all make. And chose between the two we must as they are parametrically opposed and can only exist as independent entities. To be truly happy one must live absolutely in the absolute present; carpe diem. In a life of meaning one always wallows in the regrets of the past and obsesses about the future thereby eliminating the factors needed for the existence of happiness.

I do not remember making a specific choice between the two, but I find myself living a life of meaning. Would I have made a different choice if I could? probably not. Sometimes the meanings gleaned are worth the absence of happiness, only sometimes. But some losses were too valuable to be suffered. Some sacrifices too grand for a miniscule life. Makes me wonder if a life of happiness would have been different, better...happy.

Some are born with tragedy running in their veins, pulsating rhythmically, full of life and yet lethal to all but the host. Like the carrier of a deadly virus. Dangerous to all but himself. Ironic. Tragedy requires sustenance. It requires immortality or something close to it. The virus, unable to manifest itself without the host. Tragedy exists until the blood flows and so protects its host as a survival mechanism.

Making us, the carriers, stronger...
Almost invincible.

Tragedy is written in genes. Hard-coded in the DNA as an Almighty, Omnipotent instruction bleeding its venom in every possibility, every choice, every dream, every hope, every action, every feeling...everyone. Multifaceted as it is, choosing its poisons from an arsenal of treachery and betrayal, loss and failure, regret and remorse, pain and suffering.

Classic depiction of Evil, a being walking through a green field, sucking the life out of every blade of grass, flowers wilting at his mere presence. The dichotomic evil of tragedy in my veins compelling, goading, luring you to stab at a perforated back, making you cause pain, making you disloyal, dishonest...distant. Sometimes against your very nature. Don't be surprised; it’s not you, it’s me...and I'll understand.

You think you can outrun your daemons. All in hopes of ameliorating the debacle of a stunted life. Never realizing they are the life-blood in your veins. And finally when the realization strikes, you lose the illusionary comfort of your already torn and shredded security blankets; the few that you have.

Ugliness is an unforgiveable sin in this brutal world. Is it the shape of your nose or the color of your skin, is there more to it?. How do you get rid of ugliness? is it all relative; a social conformity, a drive to satisfy the herd instinct or is ugliness really ugly?. Flinching, shuddering, retching, repulsively ugly. Ugliness; a breeding ground of unrequited feelings and emotions. Creating distances.

Distances keep the curiosities piqued and mysteries ablaze. Reducing distances accentuates faults and imperfections which are often unanticipated. However, when distances diminish and affections grow rapidly; alarmingly so, the end is near. The blind witch, getting ready to slash at a frail thread. How many more loses? How much more of misery? Is there heroism in suffering? Does it absolutely require appraisal for its existence?

Have I strength? If my heart still yearns for affection against my will?

You've never been alone, if you haven't been alone in New York City.

Anger

That impossible anger.
Strangling the grief until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins.
And one day you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed
So you would be spared your pain...

Beautiful to me...

my words rustle, dry in winds
bearing silence in our midst
you soar on iridescent wings
parting all enshrouding myst

you are
a vision in white
your hair woven darkness
amorphous shadows pulled free
their stygian darkness infesting me

your face made with morning light
jewelled cheeks, shinning bright
frangrance your body, skin as milk
honey your lips, touch as silk

I long, you breath warmth on my lips
to feel your touch against my skin
brush your fingers, across my face
exploring contours, in sweet embrace

murky winter, vines cling, twining on the stone
when cold etches, settling in, chilling to the bone
your presence warms my soul, with you i'm meant to be
you were, you are, you'll always be...beautiful to me

You Are a Warrior Soul

You're a strong person and sometimes seen as intimidating.You don't give up. You're committed and brave.Truly adventuresome, you are not afraid of going to battle.Extremely protective of loved ones, you root for the underdog. You are picky about details and rigorous in your methods.You also value honesty and fairness a great deal.You can be outspoken, intimidating, headstrong, and demanding.You're a hardliner who demands the best from themselves and others. Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

oh the vanity...

merry-go-round

I'm so lonesome I could cry, Hank Williams in his low mournful voice. Can a feeling be expressed this perfectly only if it was real? or maybe just another hit song because so many people can relate to it. I still think at some point he must have been lonesome enough to cry. But then again, aren't we all?

Hear the lonesome whipoorwill
He sounds too blue to fly
The midnight train is whining low
Im so lonesome I could cry

I lost parts of me trying to please someone or the other by being who I was not. The more I did it the more I lost. Bit by bit it kept chipping off. Now I'm just scared I might never know who I really was, because I can't remember. And even after this pragmatic realization, it is still hard to be alone.

I've never seen a night so long
When time goes crawling by
The moon just went behind a cloud
To hide its face and cry

Why is it that the best lessons in life are always preceded by deception and treachery? why is it that even the fleetingly briefest moments of happiness are always followed by loss, remorse and regret? maybe because one is the reason the other exists. So how much happiness can really be pursued when the only certainty, the only constant, is death?. Is it really the most painful loss? the death of a loved one? It is a curious thing the death of a loved one. It's like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down in the air and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise.

Did you ever see a robin weep
When leaves begin to die
That means he's lost the will to live
Im so lonesome I could cry

Death makes sad stories of us all. An efficacious prestige. However it is only a matter of time before one realizes that the worst losses are not always caused by death. More so when we are bound by love. The losses so sustained pile up, one on top of the other, on one side of the scale and are balanced by the combined affections of everyone who loves us, on the other side. So what happens when this side is empty? what happens when you find yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no one with you? no love to balance the losses?

The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky
And as I wonder where you are
Im so lonesome I could cry

All matters of choice not design, yet somehow the design is such that it leaves us no choices when it comes to it. I wish my scales wouldn't tip over so much. I'm scared to learn new names, it's so painful to forget them when they become nothing more than reverberating echos. I'm scared to be distant and aloof for that is when the memories invade my mind and body like hoardes of hungry flying, crawling insects. Clicking their pincers biting at my flesh with sadistic deliberation. Each day the scale of losses gets heavier feeding on my pains.

The worst part about the ones you lost but not to death...you cannot stop hoping they would be back.