A call to the lost Wanderer and the lost spirit.

Life has been hectic as usual. And it is normal that the wanderer doesn’t have time as she used to do before, life, job and the time of adult life kind of sucked her into the dark capsule of time. She doesn’t stand and stare at the clouds like before neither does she waits to listen to the murmuring of the old Brooke. She just runs with time, the age-old race that man has been running for many years, the race of deadlines and quadrified work. She cries alone sometimes and sometimes she smiles at the calming breeze that occasionally gives her the comforting hug. Being far away from home, she was trying to find a home, she was trying to find herself. In this mad rat race, she feels like she lost herself. She isn’t her, anymore. She isn’t anymore the dreamer who used to conjure up the violet smokes of dreams and she doesn’t get teleported to dreamlands anymore. She just gets nightmares that scream to her she missed another deadline of the multiple jobs she is juggling. She craves for those academic cycles, those enriching discussions. She craves for a nice steaming hot cup of one of that midnight chais.. It’s funny how our dreamer manages to carry her heart on her sleeves, she always manages to find a way to break her heart, or maybe it is because she flies too high in expectation sometimes. But doesn’t she has all rights to fly high in exceptations. OH HELL YESS, She has all the right. She is a wild spirit deep inside, a dreamer, a fighter who never bows down to conventions, who can’t be chained down, she is like that she-dragon that breathes out the fire that could melt any chains and converts them into diamonds for her crown. Yes, she is the Queen, not because she belongs to any King but because she owns a country and its people, the country that lies inside her. Her disguise of simplicity fools people sometimes and they confuse her internal peace to be her weakness, but she knows exactly when to unleash the internal Medusa. Oh, wanderer, I miss you, I miss the times when you used to take me to the magical world of words, to the world of imagination, to the castles of old Scotland and to the forbidden garden of Rapuccini. Wherever you are my dearest dreamer, come back to me for we are one, and without you I am incomplete, just a machine puppeteered by the hands of a Capitalistic, unimaginative, innovative society. Come back to me and hold my pen, when I write about those lone travels.

The song of the hidden brook.

dsc_0012_7To take the pen in this life filled with routine is quite difficult. Or to specify, my lazy nature steers me away from taking the pen. This Sunday, I just decided to walk. For once, walking without a destination felt right. It felt pleasant, serene and calm. Maybe we don’t need a destination, maybe the path holds the joy and magic than the destination in itself. It was not technically great weather. It was raining quite heavily. In the beginning, my feet was pacing hard to find a way to get back to the comfort of home. But the path was long, suddenly it dawned on me, “why was I running away from this rain to the comfort of some mundane banality. Maybe it is time to give rain a chance. To feel those rain droplets falling on me, its cold calming my heart. I stood there listening to the hidden brook, which was singing its own tune, which no one had time to listen except for the abandoned mansion. As I stood there, in this foreign land listening to the tune of a brook, drenching in the rain. My weary thoughts got washed away, while I was feeling one with the stream and the abandoned mansion and the wet rocks under my feet. It cleansed me and I recalled the tune of this hidden tiny brook to be the same as the one that soothed my ears when I took a holy dip in the Ganges. For it doesn’t really matter if you are the well known Ganges or a hidden brook, all that matters is your voice which keeps on singing its tune and a heart that keeps on telling its tale.

“Where are you, and where am I”?

Just stumbled upon “Tu kuja” in Highway which is inspired by a famous qawwali of the same name. This song portraits a lost person, who is drowning in the worries of the world, and who is searching for an anchor to hold upon. The song is very interesting in the perspective that it actually does an introspection into the mind of a loner or a mind who is drifting into depression in the chaos and hum drums of a city life. In modern life, no one has got time to listen, no one has time to lent an ear to the lamentings of a fellow human. And we are loosing many to depression, but the interesting factor is that everyone wants the same thing, everyone is searching for kindness, for a purpose in life but fails to recognize that their fellow beings crave the same thing. The song describes the exact feeling of millions, “I am alone on this path filled with stones and thorns, begging for a drop of compassion” and it’s interesting how this factor refines the thread of spirituality. How the lamenting souls finds solace in addressing some external power of the universe whom they address as “the strength of the weak”.The dark bile gets spilled when the souls get lost in understanding the mystic ways in which the world acts and instead of leading to answers it just creates a marshland engulfing its creator. And in this endless pursuit maybe a helping or moreover listening external universal power was helpful.Maybe it was the thing that led the ancient humans to create the concept of religion. Just to pour out their minds to stone idols that they trust. And then even that turned into a quest of searching whether the idols really are listening or are they just there to give a momentary relief.So it became a maze game, where one found an outlet to their suffering and in inspecting the outlet, it led to more sufferings. It’s at times like this the cycle or chakra theory makes sense. Just like how Buddha said, maybe it’s those pain relievers which we hold on to, which paves way for more pain. And at those times we can only ask one question “Where are you, and where am I”?
It’s interesting to find how human loneliness and self-doubt acts a fodder for spiritual quests. If you have more views on the topic, please do mention below.

Click on the link to listen to the song: https://youtu.be/Nw8UJ9zKVTc

The little green elf

dsc_0036Crossing the gate this cold crispy morning, I saw something moving in the grass. I leaned in to see what was there. And there it was.., a tiny little elf collecting tiny water droplets. I couldn’t believe my eyes.., I stared at him in utter disbelief and surprise. The tiny elf was carefully collecting the dew drops as if he was in a trance. He placed the dew drops against the golden sun rays and as if by some magic those droplets started sparkling like tiny diamonds. I tried leaning forward, and with cold frail fingers, I tried to reach out to the sparkling crystals.The tiny elf was startled and he looked up at me with the kindest eyes I have ever seen. He lifted a tiny crystal and placed it on my fingertip, I tried thanking him with a smile. He turned around and with a splish splash turned into a mushroom, and his fabricated crystals turned back into shiny dew drops on his coat. A strange kind of peace seemed to settle in my mind and with a gentle smile, I placed the crystal he gave me on his mushroom coat.and I bid him goodbye, hoping to see that kind eyes again someday, perhaps in an elf’s universe.

The sea, the cliff and some history..!!

The traveler was hiding under the labyrinth of time for a long time..The spider web of diplomatic formalities has entangled the traveler too in its spiderweb..but like a true warrior, she broke off the web and flew into the horizons to meet the adventure that was awaiting her.. She ended up in Normandy.., the region of green pasture lands nestled in silence of a sleeping history.., where the wind brushes her hairs and the sea embraces the land with the most delicate hands..

Today , standing at the highest cliff.., she saw the end of the world.., where earth meets the sky..with the beautifully painted blue sky above her head and the emerald green grass under her feet..She saw the real eden garden…while the soft breeze whispered a sweet secret in her ears..She was alive at this moment..She saw the light.., the seven coloured rainbow shone in the sky..!!

The German bunkers of the World war II was standing there.., just like the ancient phantoms lost in an eerie dream…, while the white turbos turned merrily like young men dancing in joy..And there I stood watching her listening to the stories which the cliffs were telling her.. Lost in today..waiting for tomorrow..!!


The tales told by the haut falaise.. 🙂


the way leading to history..

Life – the biggest surprise

I was planning to write something since a long time..but my internal traveler got lost somewhere..,maybe in some meadows or beyond some fenced grasslands or on the bank of some silvery stream..I went searching for her.,everywhere but she was lost..,she was gone..!! I asked everyone.., no one knew where she went..! I knew I could find her in my writings..but without her I couldn’t write anything..! I was tired, and exhausted. I was about to give up my hopes.

After my tiresome search,I was lonely finding solace in my slumber and it was then the first drops of rain, just like tear drops fell from the sky to caress my dried up soul..and then in y sleep just like a flicker of a phantom.., I saw her.She was smiling at me..My joy had no bounds..She extended her hand to me..I hold it as tightly as I can..I complained to her for leaving me so abruptly..For leaving me alone in the crowd..I realized that..what mattered the most to me, was her company and nothing else. She was my soul itself. Its her thoughts that I jolt down. I am a physical void and she was my spiritual fulfilness. I looked behind her and found the silvery wings which she was trying to hide. I looked away fearing that she will fly away from me again..! She then gifted me a pair of those effervescent silvery wings..I looked at the wings with wide eyes …I lifted my legs slightly leaning forwards with my eyes fixed o the blue fields of clouds extending ahead of me. I was lifted up while the cold rain drops brushed through my wings and fell on the ground just like sparkling diamonds from the sky..they sparkled just like hope that sparkles in our morbid lives..!!

Because the spring is back again.

The wanderer has put down the pen for a long time now. The world has just trapped the wanderer in its entangled roots. She tried escaping.., she tried reaching out for the pen many a times.. But she was carried away by the sweet currents of the astringent lakes..by the stardusts in humanoid forms..,by the kites which caressed the scarlet skies, by the autumn winds and by the lamenting winters. She wished for her feather, which gave her the power to fly, which gave her the power to pierce hearts, which has won for her a number of battles. But she was carried away. She received many seeds while she wandered through routes unseen by human eyes.., she conceived them.., carried them in her soul, nourished them with her tears and amused them with her smiles. But she forgot to give them life, for the life force resided in that ink dipped feather and manifested through her fingertips. She felt lonely in the crowd of love and joy showered on her. She was like that acorn seed who was always afraid to fall down to the ground. She was scared, she was scared of the world, this beautiful world which transformed into the malignant beast at times..She hasn’t meet the beast yet, but has heard stories about this beast. And once she has sneaked in through this beautiful labyrinth and through its silvery cracks has seen the shadow of this beast. The beast, which resides in the sweet side of humanity, and its spit which objectifies human beings and make them into grey dark shadows craving for personal pleasure who disguises themselves in silvery armors. She was scared, she wanted support, she felt weak to lift the feather again for she feared that she won’t be able to do it. She feared that she might be conceived by the beast and ultimately become a part of the beast. Then it rained in her inner terrain, the rain brought hope, the rain brought the cure, it brought the secret weapon to slay the beast. And it was to built her own happy fort.., just like the rain whispered to her. Built your happy fort..and keep the beast in it…For the unexplored fields and meadows are all hers.., for her they were the nurturers…her guiding angels…She freed her voice and hid it inside her inked feather…locked up the beast in happiness and continued her journey to the unperceivable grasslands lined with daisies and buttercups, wishing to find the lily fields.., while the beast roared from the fort..that “she was a coward”. But its voice was muffled by the fleece of happiness which binded the walls of the fort and her pen has started to sing sweet melodies again…because the spring was back again.DSC_0014

Till Death Do Part Us

Chapter 1

The day was calm and cool,but I was feeling a bit uneasy.I decided to make a hot glass of Brazillian coffee for myself but then decided to do without one.I put on my sandals and walked down the lane to the maple laned sidewalk.On my way I met the cheerful newspaper boy who waved at me a warm good morning but I responded coldly because something or the other was disturbing me.My mind was restless;my legs were freezed and trembling.I thought of sitting on the iron bench beneath a maple tree.A cold breeze brushed through my face which made me think of death,I paused over the thought.A small little maple leaf came down and rested on my lap.I took the young leaf in my left hand and examined it carefully like a botanist.It was whole brown but my attention was drawn to a tinch of red on that leaf which made me think as if it was trying to run away from the hands of brown,as if it was trying to escape the darkness,as if it wanted to embrace the goodness of nature without giving it away to the dirt.I don’t know why but these train of thoughts made me to think about hell.”Hell”,”Death”,what is happening to me;why my thoughts are so sober.I uttered a curse word and try to cheer myself up by looking at the beautiful world in front of me.Then I thought ‘how beautiful hell will be’.I smiled srcastically thinking about my foolish question, ‘how can something beautiful happen in hell’.Beauty is art and art is divine.But how can hell be divine? how can there be art in hell? I recked my brains and went to sleep.The thoughts in my brain formed a bubble near my head and it then rose above my head like a hallo and parted into the atmosphere to find its new recipients while the maple leaf on my lap become more and more brownish and the little red spot ran to the tip of the leaf blade.


Hell was cold,that day.A thin scent of smocked sausages covered the entire hell.There was this red light everywhere.Samuel was uneasy because he was the only soul who was not attended by Balbuzeeb,the right hand of Lucifer.Samuel was a desirous desperado who out of malice and melancholy killed his young femme with her two little ones.He was restless in earth and still restless in Hell;only Balbuzeeb can cool him.Yes,I meant the word ‘cold’ itself because hell is cold.Yes,it is cold,it is the cold kingdom of indifference without warmth,without passion,without feelings and without art.We all have this misconception of hell as a dark,dintchy place which our writers told us,but for sure hell is not dark .There is light in hell too but the sun,moon and stars is Lucifer himeslf.Its from him,hell receives its light.But where is Lucifer and Balbuzeeb?
Balbuzeeb is seen standing like an old lamp post outside Lucifer’s chamber;a scary blue light is seen from his chamber.What is hell is happening in hell?Why is the soul of Samuel left unattended?What happened to Balbuzeeb?Because he is the one who comes to lick up the souls of condemned to indifference,just like a hungry dog.Lucifer is always seen walking around;enjoying the cold indifference and pondering over his thoughts to destroy goodness;while his pet bat encircles his cape.It all happened one day…Lucifer found an old book near the soul of a disgusting librarian.He started reading it.He grew brighter and brighter as he read on.Then all of a sudden he went inside his chamber,locked himself up leaving Balbuzeeb on guard.Things got more tensed when the curious,scary blue light started coming from his chamber.Hey,wait…!What is scary about blue?Yes,blue is a scary colour to hell because its the divine colour;and all those that are divine is scary to hell.But what is happening inside is unknown to all.Inside Lucifer’s chamber also it was tension, who was ruling over.A little pot is seen boiling and some sort of distillation tube is being setup and a blue coloured liquid was collected at the other end but the light was not coming from there.It was coming from the closet.Yes,that wooden closet concealed Lucifer’s greatest secret.
………………..to be continued

The wanderer is lost….!

Its been a long time… the wanderer have talked last. When the wanderer unfold in front of you the story of the lonely moon..,she was in turn questioning her existence on this planet of chaos…Everything in this universe is in constant motion. It never stops..,the wanderer was wandering places so as to be in resonance with this universe. But the elixir which kept her running has vaporized into an invisible ethereal layer and cuddled the molecules of this atmospheric air..! The wanderer is lost deep down…,somewhere..! Is she dead..? Has she perished..? No..never..,for she talked the tongue which millions had spoken with..She must be hiding deep..,inside..,maybe  she has just lost her way..,in some deep dark dungeon..,or may be she is just in the slumber.., feeling new horizons..,seeing new lands..or maybe she is just tired of keeping pace with this sublime universe..and maybe some day she will just wake up from her sleep brushing away the white dust ,,which men call the snow..and lighten this world with her magic smile.


The lonely Moon, the dark night and the cosmic wanderer…!!

After something like a decade or so..,the lonely wanderer is back with the crazy musings..!! But this time the journey is into the infinity..!! The purple sky basked in its mysterious aura and winked at the lonely wanderer.It was actually seducing the wanderer to embrace it.But the wanderer was scared as always..!! She was searching for answers and her back pack was empty..,she felt the green cold sluggy moss of degradation that crept into her mind.It was scary and cold and dark..!She looked for the elixir to revive the degrading mind. Te magic potion was available only in the long lost kingdom of her seductress,in the purple sky..!! She longed to touch the purple sky with her long slender fingers..but her weak wings were tired..!! A sad smile adorned her lips..,she tried again..coz as you all know our wanderer..she is a fighter..!!
A strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air around her..her wings started fluttering again like new butterfly emerging from its mould..she tried again..the sweet air lifted her up..and took her to the purple sky..!!But only after reaching there that she understood that it was not the purple sky…but it was someone else who was summoning her.The purple sky was just a labyrinth..but little did she understood that this labyrinth was made of her desires..The winding stairway of emotions took her to the unknown desire..it took her into the dept of the cosmic sea.She sailed on the moon. Little stars peeped up and smiled at her,she glazed them back through her dreamy eyes.Suddenly moon shook her off his reins into the deep cosmic sea…she was cold,she was scared but she believed in her summoner..her invisible lover..The frightening meteors smeared at her..she was nearing a black hole..,but a blazing shooting star carried her in her sleeves and took her to the white dwarf..who opened the door to her secret summoner.She was all eager to meet him.She entered the room with the strides of a fresh jasmines..,but the room was dark..and at the corner she saw something moving..She hurried to it..!! There was he ..who called her from faraway land..He was all weak..,he was in chains..he was a dark moon..!!He resembled moon as if they were brothers..
Yes he was the twin brother of moon,but a darker version of moon..He was chained and kept away from the world..The blazing hot iron burnt through his skin…It was so much for her to take..she tried breaking his chains and freeing him..but the chains were strong…His moments were drawing near..He wanted to give his elixir..,his lifeline to her..He wanted to give her eternity..He wanted to give up his life for her travels and her imagination..But only one thing he asked in return..to keep him in her heart..to keep him alive in her art..With a silent sob..,she agreed..He took her in his arms..touched her fingers and turned to a purple stardust in her hands..She collected it..!! and let out a shrill cry of despair and gloom..Her eyes were wide open and she was back on her brick lined balcony gazing at the night sky..She opened her hands..,a felt the purple stardust and sprinkled it on her new story..and smiled at him wearyingly with her dreamy eyes…!!

He was chained in blazing iron... Photo credit:google

He was chained in blazing iron…
Photo credit:google

The purple sky summoned her..!! PC:GOOGLE

The purple sky summoned her..!!

Can you smell that stardust…?