Abundance of Nothing & Beautiful Absurdity : A Nocturnal Glory

At times, I am engulfed in a state of disorientation, wandering in the vast expanse of my mind, until I stumble upon a place where I come face to face with my Ego, Id, and Libido. It is a surreal encounter, leaving me feeling both lost and found.

In that moment, I am consumed by a sense of emptiness, a nothingness that permeates my entire being, yet it is also beautiful in its own right. The silence is deafening, yet the stillness is enchanting, allowing me to bask in the glory of nothingness.

It is a state of mind that leaves me feeling frustrated, as I struggle to make sense of my thoughts and feelings. The physicality of it is equally daunting, as it drags me down a path that I do not wish to tread. Reading and writing become a chore, a task that I cannot bring myself to do.

I have never encountered the Muse of letters, and even if I had, I would not dare waste the precious moments of my absurdity and nothingness. It is in this abundance of nothingness that I feel a nocturnal glory, a sense of greatness without the need to be anyone or anything.

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Kundera

Emerging from the lampshade, a nocturnal butterfly fluttered erratically, startled by the sudden overhead light. As I closed the book, the strains of a distant piano and violin drifted weakly from below. Lost in contemplating the butterfly's flight patterns, I found myself entranced. Kundera, sensing my bewilderment, remarked on the rhythm, the highs and lows of the musical strains below. He spoke of the interconnectedness of each note, emphasizing how even the pauses between them contributed to the symphony's beauty. I was drawn to the profound silence, where a symphony was meticulously orchestrated. Interrupting my reverie, she snatched the book from my chest, exclaiming, "What are you reading?" I could only respond with an "Ah!"

Hindolam: S

When someone is taken away from you, you realise how much you need that person. The universe took 'him' away from her and she wasn't ready to give up yet. She needed to get back to 'him', to her world. That was the only thought that crossed her mind, it consumed her. Her fear, perplexities and doubts vanished, this was the moment she figured out what she really wanted. She realised that she knew it all along. She loved 'him' so dearly that she wouldn't leave 'him' for anything in the world. She told him, "I belong to 'him'. No matter how intensely you love me, I will love 'him', not you. Because it was a promise for a lifetime. Even death can't do us apart. Let me go. I have to go back to 'him'. I know I'm hurting you but 'he' needs me. And do you know how ardently I love and admire 'him'? As much as you love me, if not more. And 'he' loves me much more than that also. ” His moist eyes...

Rage

Rage, rage, rage! Rage unto the roaring skies and rob the mighty waves of light; And sound the clash of Titans. Bring me them in the arc, I shall drink them to the less. Ah, my Angels and Devils, Rage unto the eternal fire and waters, I shall blow the west wind and chariot unto the Eastern skies. I carry the unquenched fire and sound the trumpet of war. They devoured Prometheus's liver, Defiled Hypatia upon Caesareum's altar, Stripped by oyster shells, Bathed in the blood of Jesus, the Nazarene. I bury them. Yes, I bury them. I see the reversal of the time- Those who walk on land shall return to their origin. The slave of the past, Bearer of forefathers' sins, Shed your blood, find solace in your shadows, As they demand the return of your sins. Show me your hands For, they drop blood and wipe the stains of sins they p...

The Ballads of Gravity

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