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Utopia in Heaven

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Fractions of ambivalence intervened with facts confuse me. What sort of memory should I resort to? What sort of woods should I head to? Moreover, what sort of thought I should entertain? serenity compromised with the rage still ravish me, for the flight unto the firmament where the manipulated thoughts have placed both the hell and heaven, though both of them begin with 'H', I see two parallel lines running towards uncertainty. However, somewhere in between I also see a line connecting them! Yeah, both Hell and Heaven are connected- ('H' with a '-'). I dream of a thought where both hell and heaven live in harmony and peace. What a beautiful thing to remember! Both constructive Satan and God share their love, thoughts, and goodwill in peace and co-operation! I think it’s happening right there in my crazy thoughts.
off topic - What is love? Love is beyond definition and it transcends all barriers and definition. Once a question was asked to me on love. People say love differs in terms. It may dress different colours at different times. Sometimes it is - love, romance, lust, peace, harmony, understanding, intimacy, affinity, infatuation, care, goodwill, sisterhood, silence, sympathy, empathy, co-habituation, respect, etc. - it goes like that. I think it is not about how you look at it, but it is about from where you look at it. I am in love with a girl. Actually, I have never heard of her sound and seen her close to me. I wonder about myself that I can love a girl whom I have never seen but once and never heard of her sound. I am in love with her for five years and I loved none like that and will never. There is a weird pleasure in loving someone who doesn't know you.
off topic- Religion is not spirituality. I had a long combat series with religion and church. I am spiritual by birth, but those people manipulated my thoughts and they made me to misinterpret religion and spirituality. And I went to monastery! Later I left that life. Why should I live my life away from the realities, existing or non-existing, I call them realities because they give me shocks both cultural and intellectual along with emotional. I celebrate my spirituality free from religion and church. I don't priests for my soul.


topic- I remember a quote by Mark Twain, "I don't like to commit myself about heaven and hell- you see, I have friends in both places." Well, i think that explains a lot for me.

Comments

  1. Anonymous22 May 2013 at 08:47

    Lost in his thoughts, he closed his eyes and the image he painted in his imagination came to life. A smile lingered on his lips for the briefest moment. He opened his eyes slowly and a sigh escaped his lips. He tried to push her thoughts away from his mind but she was a breath of fresh air, like early morning dew. No matter how many times he tried, her thoughts kept ringing in his head. He wondered, is it love?! Maybe it wasn't her that he loved. Maybe it was her thoughts, the world of imagination she wove with her words, her utopia. But there was an impeccable beauty in loving her, a glimmer of hope, caged in her immense love. He was in love with who she was in a world she created. Maybe that's who she was in reality. Maybe not. Maybe she had a life outside the web of words she created. That thought shattered his hope but he glued it back with his irrevocable love for her because crazy utopia wasn't just her thoughts. It was her very existance and he believed in it, in the power of love, of hope. She wrote down her thoughts, not knowing that someone miles away was in love with the mere possibility of being in love with her. But she always wondered, who was he. His enigmatic personality entered her thoughts quite a number of times. She doesn't know who he is but in her world he exists somewhere, buried in the time bygone, a mystery of the past. He was lost in her cloud of memories until the day came when she truly realised who he was.
    He said, "There is a weird pleasure in loving someone who doesn't love you."

    - Dewdrop :)

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    1. Anand22 May 2013 at 11:42

      He always believed in his soul, for he believed that our souls communicate to the soul of the universe. Yeah, “He tried to push her thoughts away from his mind but she was a breath of fresh air, like early morning dew.” He breathed her in his every breath, for he never wanted to be alone. In the midst of plenty, she always walked with him and…. He started to write her, live her, love her…. and the words are incapable for the life he lived in her thoughts and memories.
      I asked him whether it was her thoughts or the world of imagination she wove with her words, her utopia, he loved. And he said, “what is love? It is the love of a man that makes the music from the strings. They sculpt the marbles or earth to bring out a goddess. It is love. And lust, it is love. How this vast, magnificent universe originated from the great silence? It is the love of some anonymous existence. Some say particles, and some say god. Whoever and whatever they are, that was love. Love has no verbal existence, that words can never express it. This is my love. May be, god has a particular plan for me to express. And he created me like this. I love her soul because I always feel her.”
      I was wondered, that how (the hell) on earth someone can love someone like this. His love is unconditional. “I love her soul. I always asked my soul to tell her the story of my love for her. I tried telepathy and I tried to make her feel me because I couldn’t live without her. And I loved her imperfection, weakness, and the frailty of human nature.”
      He called her “Dewdrop.”
      He repeated the words of Alchemist, "There is one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth... and when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."
      And he sang a song for her:
      Tell me the story
      About how the sun
      Loved the moon so much
      He died every night
      To let her breathe.

      Delete

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