The Ballads of Gravity

It is fate, that  the fulfillment of my dream costs the value of your entire freedom. How can you live chained? Wont you be shattered like the fish catch out of water? So...no... let my dreams be burned. And you... beat your wings and fly  unto the endless sky of freedom. ( Written by Shana K, my friend.  )

I celebrate my life spiritually. My spirituality is even hard for me to define the way I have conceived it. It helps me to accommodate the whole world in to mine, existing or non-existing. I formulated my spirituality from the great Indian concept 'TAT TWAM ASI' (You, the individual self, are the universal self). When I grew up I met Walt Whitman who wrote the great work which I keep in the midst of my sacred books,  Leaves of Grass.           "I contradict myself  because I contain multitude." (  Song of Myself,  Walt Whitman)  My spirituality is not religious and bond to any established belief system.      I read Whitman, who are assigned to me by my wish without his  consent, because I find my soul somewhere in his words. He also professed the concept of 'Universal Soul', my very concept which I successfully execute in my uncertain life of 'beautiful absurdities'.  I, later in my academical space, coined my new concept o

After noon around evening, I was in my usual cafe where I go for everything that roams around my external psyche that possibly links my internal too. I learn many things from the cafe rather than from the classroom itself. Classroom teaches me, specially, nothing. The usual course of ritualistic attendance of classroom discussions produced many a time my own contradictions to me myself. Classroom teaches me the mere theories, but fails how to implement in the realities of life. The cafe teaches me how to read people and how i must be in order to analyse me. People come and go, and it repeats and repeats. i order coffee and taste and it goes on continually. One day i was sitting on the corner side of the cafe where I usually place myself for no reason, may be. Two men gently be-seated next to me, but not with me. i can interestingly over-here  what they say. Two of them were interesting, after all, most desirable. One guy started talking something which I could not understand b

far from the land of eternity, i see the departed me of other. my several men inside me spoke the language of unknown and uncertain. they were of several men. men of lust, men of love, men of calm, men of rush, men of thought, men of spirituality, men of absurdity, etc. i lost my being among them. i cared my individuality and professed, but i knew all of them were in vain. i have no me, essential self. i am an existence of multitude, 'i' contain multitude. there are numerous 'i' inside me, of whom i must select to be my face? no one, but all. one is not equal to the other but they can't stay in the absence of the other. let me love all of them, embrace me, my me! 'i' born each time, from one to one. not new. things were there.and always will be. they are mere repetition. 'i' is many. never define 'i'.