Empty benches in the park at the seashore awaits the anticipated lovers.
Trees, willow, pines, almonds,
and many unnamed awaits the lovers too.
Evenings are the most beautiful days of our life.
Trees and corners keep the secret of age old love story.
The trustworthy and silent partners of every love
stories.
Zephyr kisses me
with its freshness
and hugs me with the love of all lovers.
Innocence of kids makes the evening more loveable.
Anonymity becomes excitement.
Children marry the anonymity of their world.
Sound of their laugh, tears for their wantings,
Murmuring of lovers, deals of bussiness men,
songs of singing birds, rhythm of waves,
romance of couples, wooing of boys, laughs of peers,
wisdom of old age, crunching of fallen leaves,
dancing of trees, silence of the lonely in the midst of
plenty,
and the hugs and kisses of zephyr for all and for me.
A can of cola in
my hands, left when it became empty inside.
Day is getting
late and the sound of evening getting more.
Endless end of the mighty waters,
Lights on trees coloured leaves blue,
red, yellow, violet, white, orange, and a mix of all.
Eyes felt a wet.
Tears on the corners of my defining eyes stagnated,
Hesitating to drop
it went back somewhere.
I don't know what caused the water in my eyes,
Sound of my silence being alienated from
the midst of plenty around me, may be.
Or the unconscious realization of being inside the
structure
of structures and systems,
Or the unconscious marriage of the conscious
with the realities
that make me or I make,
I forget me, sometimes .
But I meet me when I am alone in the midst of plenty,
My reality exists inside the structure where I am,
not outside where my fiction, god (Nature).
Do I create them or they create me?
Nothing can exist alone, so both of those 'things' play.
Academic processes are getting over, exams,
seminars, discussions,and everything possibly inside the
academic family.
Mine is partly over.
And away from the matrix of discourses,
I exist with 'my
composed realities' that make me strange,
numb, blind, deaf, and a new born baby
with another 'composed realities' to welcome a world of
'events'
where I also become an event.
Theories and philosophies I married,
discourses I conceived, 'composed academic structural
realities' I delivered - will they survive when I shift my structural
platforms?
I fear what's
next?
Where are my theories and philosophies I married?
'Texts' are written, life and events are texts, so
written.
I remember the
text Bible - 'for everything that exists, already has been
and everything
that will, already is.'
Fear of shift is in my conscious mind,
and when I met me alone in the multitude on
the seashore to
the end of a day,
my unconscious
mind introduced my conscious mind.
My eyes are still wet, Zephyr hugs and kisses me through.
I hear the sound
of music,
murmur, secret,
laugh, smile, cry, fall, love, rest,
anticipation,
parting, inception, end, and the sound of silence.
Everything remains
the same, nothing is changed, but the 'realities around.'
A farewell to my 20 rupees cola can, I sucked the last
drop of cola.
Walking back to my 'composed realities' from a platform
of being nothing,
I saw my 20 rupees
cola can still loving the hugs and kisses of zephyr,
being nothing inside,
but graphically ornamented outside on the bench I
existed.
A farewell to my 20 rupees cola can.
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