Tag Archives: music

Two Dragonflies Chilling By The Ivy Arched Window Pane

We all have one of those days when everything seems unfinished. We are unsure about the chapter on the next blank page, about the pending chores that we left for an apparent tomorrow, about the next moment where we were supposed to begin with a pre-planned activity. This immature mess builds up steadily in the mind’s landfill and becomes a sheer garbage before you realise years have passed!

…..With a chill timid breeze beating up gently, I stand behind my tea stained ebony railing, facing hundreds of willow trees. It is a fresh two day getaway before I join my allied mess. All I’m sure about at this point is the imagination running through the wilderness of my mind, that moment. My mind’s wafting wilderness itches the strangeness of the evening. Far away, I can see two dragonflies chilling by the ivy arched window pane. One goes to the other and showers all the love it has. Your golden laced wings are beautiful, it says. The vines running along my ebony railing goes and ends above that rose cottage. The tender pink roses have bloomed and merged onto the corner of roof. They had a tough misty morning. They just dried themselves out from the drenching dew and a tiring work session. Don’t even get me started about the sunflowers standing near the silver door. Their fashion parade in the noon to attract the bee swarm was such a drama- I have lesser drama in my life. 

My coffee arrives as I start looking into the crisp green grass. I look back into the willows and everything strikes back, but in bits. I get the clarity of my mess as I sip and stare into the chamomiles amid the crisp greens. The whites gave me confidence to sail through the plume of unorganised thoughts.

My perfumed skin felt numb against all that I was trying to push inside me; fragility was a reason. In the bizarre evening, I try to tune the mess to art, little by little. I try to mouth emptiness into beauty, make music in the ash grey heaven. I also try to understand you like how the paper supple roses mend itself, get you. 

It is just another day where I figured out that this is the reason why nature never goes outdated. It mends you. It mends you like no other, from within. 

deceptive side

It takes ages, to surpass the bad you’re going through. It will take a plethora of seconds to realize your place in the situation, to sort out a solution, to admit that this is a deceptive side and you have a completely different view the other side of the same situation.

It doesn’t mean in anyway that the ‘grass is always greener on the other side’

You just can’t blame yourself for everything that happened. It simply means- you take time to realize what really happened and which is the right side.

The world is fast. It requires quick changes and it appreciates the quick people. But, if it’s not happening with you to change, then wait. Just get out of the crowd, stand in the middle of an extravagant space and breathe. There’s no wrong in halting or breathing slow, your tender veins need the time to revitalize and get the pace. 

Let the world run ahead. You walk, admire yourself and the things around you, take your time to explore the right side. Get away from the deceptive one.

There’s nothing wrong in walking through the right side rather than running breathless on the deceptive.

you can keep quiet
halt numb
how much ever you wish to
destress your fragile soul
it might take some more time
just a little more
to reach the other end
a line away
from this
‘deceptive’ side

Quietness is not weakness and know this- you are all the lights of the darkest hour, you’re brave.

Have a beautiful and calm day.

The Age Of Guilt

The wooden case was dusted, bringing the piano back to life. It had to happen when his father breathed his last. His last wish melted in the air, merging with his son’s guilt.

The keys were elegantly pressed, transmitting emotions into them. Hammers hit the strings as the owner’s command— manufacturing the required piece which was once in demand. Gradual progression of the seconds turned the emotions fierce. The keys were now the receiver of guilt, frustration of a son who failed to fulfil his father’s wish. Music was wild.

The forty year old piano never encountered dust again, guilt turned 33.