Saturday, September 18, 2010

Emotional liberation

Once the heart finds a voice and it shares the wide expanse of its coastlines peace comes with the crushing surf and the silent runoff.

Choices

Today i face the challenge of ceasing the day with no hope for tomorrow or forgetting today and hoping that tomorrow things work for the best.
My heart tells me life is for living today that tomorrow never comes and things are never better than now.
My mind tells me that haste has stolen many lives that planning is surest way of getting to success.
Who has the middle ground? I dnt knw.
With each breath we change into a new person unknown before. Hence can we be sure that which has been planned for will still have placehn our lives when it comes?
Reason or rhymes of the season. Knowledge or the natural pulse of your heart who carries the day?

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Walking in town today my legs seemed to rediscover a youthful exuberance whose memory had been scrubbed clean through bondage to gas pedals.

7 o'clock and the streets swarmed with people like a bee colony. There's scarce a foothold for the hasty step and shoulders spur and dance in full contact and close shaves. The air swelters and the buzz of a million shared words and thousands of cranky horns floods the ears.

The world seems alot smaller and there's no space for 'me' just 'us'.

Us? Yes! This amorphous frenzy of humanity bursting from every fold of the city in droves and singles.

Endless winding bus queues spin round corners and spin tales of frustration and fatigue. Tales of mary home in the kitchen and patience her sister snag in your pocket singing songs of solace. solace at great home comings to warm hugs and sweet aromas, mary in the kitchen and sweet relief at rest.

Enter 10! The streets are dead like Pompei at the wrath of Vesuvius. Nightguards hang in the shadows silent monks in a homily to the night sky. Finally sleep comes to the city. You rush along the silent streets aware of your uninvited presence and your urged departure.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Buying porridge

Its very easy to live in a cage lyk a lion in zoo. We do it everyday at almost every moment. The cage in this case is routine. Dull, endless, repetitive routine or maybe fun, endless routine. hmmm... So suddenly there is a change whereas once your cage was clean now there's a nasty dollop of tard right next to your dinner plate. Things are no longer good and routine is disrupted. Same thing happens in life. One day your eating mahindi choma next day your toothless and drooling. What to do, what to do??
ADAPT
So you change and in the process you have a 'damn you how retarded have i been?' kind of moment.
Why?

You realise that you have been so shortsighted that you couldn't pick out your nose in a lineup of ears. You have been so accustomed to one working formula for so long that you didn't realise there 50 other formulas (many more efficient). Inspired you explode into activity and nothing is ever the same.

So i had a box of oat porridge in my hand standing somewhere in nakumatt and this flood of thought swamped my head. Who would have guessed an oatmeal packet was such potent mind squeeze!!