Window of an undying question

A window scuttled with dust
wiped a long time ago
Now reeks of a new breath
Twisting winds ravel the forlorn scraps 
managing a row with the bruised edges
It shall take it’s time,
And the master knows this
 
 
dust and wind, dust and wind
The master never knew
that when he shall look 
up and down, up and down
the time will skittle past
to an alley where 
the speed of light is fiduciary 
And the master shall then ask
Himself a question
to which an answer he knows
but shall never confess

 

Another ending – with more spice this time.

I finally think the cocoon is broken and my wings are fluttering. Emphatically, these wings are beating the wind with unmatched power, or at least I would like to think so. I know, my previous posts are littered with thoughts that might come across to you as banal; the same of old story coming out in a different way, or even in a similar fashion. I would like to see it as a story in continuation, picking up the pieces along they way as they slot together safely with the grand picture. And now that I finally see beyond the darkness of the inner realm of the cocoon where I was forced to subside, there is a lot more to life – all of a sudden.

Last time, when I wrote a post about exams, I couldn’t stop myself from sulking yet still tried to construct an honest effort to resurrect a feeling of hope, or perhaps a little bit of motivation, from the ashes I thought I was buried in. Now, I feel that never there were any ashes at all; more appropriately, it was the time capsule of evolution, slowly gliding towards a pre-destined path. The cocoon being the first step with a lot of humus to breed new concepts and to examine the sprouts already laid. Breeding new concepts is always exciting yet they take time to mature – so they shall grow up one day. However, the sprouts, the offsprings of a life-moulding caricature, the fruit of a mystical flavour – that is the real deal.

What I learned from ‘examining’ the sprout has laid a foundation for future concepts, for future seeds that should, or perhaps, must be sown. One hand busy with supporting whatever I had of me and another clutching the clay patch housing the sprout, I could see a mirror-like reflection of what I conceived as gloom, hope, friends, women and strangely enough, an uncertain future. No one knows what might happen tomorrow yet, why do we still make plans? An uncertain future – interesting.

And may be that’s the click – uncertainty – engulfing every other phenomenon yet being one itself; fittingly, being the mother of phenomena. An unusually, seemingly straight yet a distorted marks of an unsharp pencil, diving line of probability with the same idea encrypted on both sides – in different ways. For a person still discovering, classification is the aid necessary but for me, I noticed how the concept of probability snaked through every image I could muster of the world. It’s there, and yet not there. Or more simply, uncertain.

The very cocoon was a product of this uncertainty, wasn’t it. Ending up on a tarmac like this where a repetition of circumstances in a completely different manner is adamant, I observed the situation more closely and nothing new was revealed. And now as I peer with new eyes and breathe with my new soul, I see nothing, and perhaps I see everything.

Solve me a Riddle

Image

The Riddler stands with Jason Todd. Well, yes – this was supposed to be a costume-type party. A farewell party, to be more precise.

Life is so strange. At one point in time, when exams lurk around your head, you seldom find something that cracks you up. The atmosphere, no matter how rosy it could be, no matter how strong the winds blow or no matter how good of an aura exists around you, you don’t feel satisfied, and happy, when all you can think is of the grade letters on a result card. Strange, isn’t it? Strange isn’t the fact that when we envision happiness, usually a Hawaiian Island pops up, with all those beautiful coconut trees and warm sunshine complemented with a soothing breeze, and completed with a perfect woman.

But does happiness really come from outside? No. Even a simple circumstance in life, like the exams, can prove us wrong. YOU have the key to your own happiness. 

So when I think of leaving my school, and leaving all those sweet memories behind, I find hard to reconcile with myself. I’ve been admitted to a reputed University, but even then, the thought of leaving my school just doesn’t feel right. I thought humans only loved progress, but regress in this case seems more valuable. Why? I do not know.