Anatomy of an Epicurean Solitude:II The Stranger

Of course, time and space run together. Working on a mutual understanding and habituation, they never overrule each other, but make the feel like one. In fact, they exist in two different sub-segments of a whole ever running chain of Life-Energy. Say, each segment carries particular memories connected with each time and space. There’s an atomic interpellation in each segments of time and space continuum. They are designed like our DNA structure- myriads of segments and sub segments forming an ever-changing structure that progresses unto its destiny! If so, is time and space different? Yes, course, they are. Well, if that so, do they have separate existing parameters and entity or are they independent? Yes, they have separate entities and they exist in separate sub segments of one among many segments of a very ever-running wheel of Life-Energy. So, each sub segments of time and space contains particular events of our lives. They record everything in their respective fields and share with the memory of Life-Energy, which memory exists in many forms like, racial memory, collective memory, and archetypal memory. This memory is true because racial memory is installed in our brain by a certain default programming code of Life-Energy. So, what is this Life-Energy? Well, this is the seed of life or the egg of life; but ultimately, it is an ultra-super energy encoded with mystic codes and programmes that enable the bearer to do magnificent and multifaceted programmes or karmas by default, which we call the kismet. This energy is part of a unicellular infinitesimal but fissionable energy.(22/09/14, 8:10 AM)

“~~You are a magnificent art of heavens,”~~ his eyes said. Moving like a butterfly, shining like a morning star, she spread the light everywhere. While pretending to enjoy her immediate public, her eyes peeped him. She peeped him- he peeped her- and she peeped him- until it snowed. Heavens witness, it was snowing all around him and on the other side, she was shining like a diamond among the pearls. She, with her magnificent peep made his day!

Well, I don’t want to talk about my experience with her because she is something else and you will never understand me. Something happened in between and I stopped writing this post for a long time.

~~He talked some random vague stupid things as she did. That was weird, but cute. His mind flew wildly as a kite detached from its thread. /edited/~~

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The Awkward Silence of the Enchanting Chasm

“Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo.” Have I forgotten you? I don't like the way you faded into oblivion. Your glorious absence marveled at the absurdities of my life. Even the last remnants of your weird sight and smile create a whirlpool of the past and a hurricane of madness deep in the abyss of my conscience. Everywhere, in every form and matter, I see your dust. I teach myself to forget you and move ahead. The chaos of your story in mine is the absence of your existence in time-space. I weave each and every layer of your story so that I can tell my son, one day, how I survived on my own. I wonder whether it was your light or the shadow I painted, mostly in Prussian blue. They will hear the echoes of the deep enchanting chasm on my chest. I keep it echoing on my chest, so that I might tell my son on the shores of infinity that I had a story to tell.

Knowing

I know this: I am also a repetition. A continuation of forces older than my name, patterns that moved through generations and found their way into me. I do not carry them as burdens alone; I carry them as proofs. What has been tried before me did not end—it arrived. And I stand where it converges. I have never been lost—only moving through complexity. I have questioned, delayed, circled, cried but never diminished. Even when direction dissolved, something steadier than certainty kept me upright. What others call confusion was often preparation. What felt like stillness was alignment in motion. I was not failing to become; I was becoming without spectacle. There were moments when desire thinned, when the world stopped asking for urgency. Not emptiness—clarity. Noise fell away. False appetites dissolved. What remained was gravity, and gravity always tells the truth. I learned then that not everything needs to excite in order to matter. And so the world narrowed—not into loss, but into gr...

എന്റെ ഉപാസന

എന്റെ പ്രണയവും ഉപാസനയും ആയവൾക്ക്, എന്റെ തലമുറയുടെ മാതാവിന്, എന്റെ ആകാശവും, ഭൂമിയുമായവൾക്കു, താരതമ്യങ്ങളില്ലാത്തൊരു സ്ത്രീയ്ക്ക്, എന്റെ പൂർണ്ണതയുടെ അവസാനമാകുന്നവൾക്ക്, എന്റെ കണ്ണുകളിലെക്കടലിലൂടെ ഒരു യാനം പോലെ പ്രയാണം ചെയ്യുന്നവൾക്ക്- ഞാൻ നടന്ന വഴികളെല്ലാം നിന്നിലേക്കായിരുന്നു. നിന്നിലത്രെ ഞാൻ തീരുന്നതും.

The Ballads of Gravity

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