Crinkled Pages From My Diary...

June 20, 2011
6:00 pm

It has been more than two weeks of my stay here in Gujarat, at my home on this holiday. The time flows, I realise this well when I have no work to do, no classes to attend. Here in this small room, sheltered with the hot roof, that often leaks during rain, with blistering sun above it, physically alone all the time, I never find myself alone actually. This is so because of the upheaval of thoughts in my mind, creative, supportive and those which are always difficult to share, you want to set them free but at the same time, you find yourself handcuffed and let them remain inside you.
During this period of my holidays here, today it is the first time that I pushed myself out of my blistering hot room, in search of medications for my sores, that weren’t able to heal, because of their captivity.

Its 6:30 pm, sun is still four fingers above the horizon, and I am strolling down the lanes, learning my familiarity with them, that I gained two years back. I used to come here, same streets, two years back too. But then everything was different. Today, I feel an essence of relieve all around. The feel of cool wind, surpass the somatic senses from my sores.

Breeze, without any lease,
giving me ease,
pains to cease,
modifying my crease.
My mind in muse,
body gone loose,
telling me to stop,
but with a comma, and not a full stop.
I move on, on the pavement drawn,
at the time of dusk, I am seeing my dawn,
picking up the husk, smelling of musk,
I make out, how sturdy the time was,
From Dusk, Till Dawn...

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Contemplation

I am not a professional writer, not even know how to arrange my words to make them meaningful, and attract the attention of my spectators I suppose. It is very much essential to make people take interest in you, in your point of view. Because if they are not occupied with your representation, they would consider your truth, even your soul feelings, farting and sick, and hence will go away leaving you behind, letting you go dumb, and speechless.
And me being an amateur at writing, it is very much difficult for me to make my friends understand what my silence stands for, although I seldom found people in my life that I dwelt since I was born and till now, for whom I shall entitle them with the tag of the major word “Friends”.
I believe in the fact that shining of eyes always doesn’t signify beauty inside them; it may also be so because of tears that are embedded in them. Not always the tears of joy.
Smile is the best jewel that human can wear to make themselves look lovely. But who cares about the person who suffers so much to get that jewel. And if some how he gets it, still convulses of anguish, in order to let it remain at its place, because it is very much difficult to hide that it is just an imitation.
I have gone tired of my feelings, my sensitiveness towards the actions that play around me, and I suppose that they are getting cancerous. I have gone tired of making out senses about what I did was right or not. It would seem philosophical and will not tally with the mindsets of friends of ours, at the current scenario, where everybody seems to be “overbusy”; although I am afraid if this very word exists or not, but I suppose my learned friends would have got the meaning of what I wished to say.

I never talk. Please mind this thing that I am not saying that I talk less. My “no talk” doesn’t implies that I show rudeness to people, or there is something called unfriendly nature in me. I am a worthy friend, honest, and very much social as well. My so called “No talk” policy is just to keep up myself with what people do, and not to let them know that I am unhappy with what they are doing, and me myself don’t want to hurt them by pointing out the loopholes in their intentions behind doing so. I know you will find this weird, but I can’t help it. The whole system nowadays has undergone such a change where each thing that people do, makes me raise questions with myself and makes my trust upon them go in grave danger.
I take responsibility to reach the Supremo to make my job done, I do all arrangements, I prepare myself in every aspect that seems within my capabilities. But I always fail to make myself prepared to tell lies, to be dishonest at some juncture where it becomes essential for my job to get done. And consequently my job fails. I come back empty handed. I can’t impress my people, because at current course of time, it is very much difficult to impress people by the help of honesty and truth. I have stopped my attempts of getting myself go crooked as I have realised that they can never be embossed in my soul, because it is preoccupied with my firm impression of truth.

Politeness and realisation of obedience by each other in every relationship is very much necessary. But I don’t find this now in this changed world. May be I am wrong because I had been using my heart to observe these things instead of my eyes, powered up by my specs. People do certain things to one another, by the name of prank they call so, declaring their rights to play them on their friends that more often lead to a hitting sensation in their friend’s heart. But none of them enrol themselves into a serious stroll due to such hip hop events. But I do mind such things.
Now I suppose that you would have agnised why I prefer my “No Talk” policy. I can’t change.
Am I wrong if I think this way? Why have my heart and soul teamed up against my brain? Brain is set for current challenges and latest upbringings, but my teamed up heart and soul sing another jargon. Aren’t our people wrong somewhere? And if they are wrong, how do I assume that so many people can be wrong at the same time. Why do people compromise for things that are not right, that are not healthy?
I want to talk. But don’t know how to make myself talk. If my words made some significant meaning to you, then please do give comments.

GOD SHALL BLESS US ALL
Copyright ©
ANSHUL GAUTAM

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