Skip to main content

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/

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

An Elegy on a Night Party II

They sing the funeral song on the death of their Day, “Day is dead, let's celebrate the birth of the Night from vivacity to ecstasy and finally a fall from the seventh heaven unto the abyss of dreams and lust.” Having nothing to do in the nights of my ‘usual routine’, I had my same chair on the same corner, a platform above the dance floor of the Seventh Heaven party club at the Down Town.             Everything in me tends to go on to become something else. The pervasive  aesthetics of life and the disposals of proposals from the mighty eyes of Almighty, I placed myself on the corner for no reason. My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. She holds spring against her breast and stares at me with sad eyes as if I’m a son of all other seasons other than spring. I don’t know who the she in my life is, but I keep watching and following her, th...

A Utopian Hallelujah

UPDATED : I saw her first on 26 January 2009                    : This post was written on 18/03/2013: 06:42 PM                          : And i said what i wanted to say on Wednesday, May 22, 2013 6:18:00 AM                    : I met her in person on 16/8/14: 12:07 PM, the craziest thing I've ever done in my life! They say I am crazy 'cause I am in love with the crazy utopia. "Crazy Utopia" could be a person or her, obviously her, thoughts or even her existence. Each day i born new and likewise my love for her is new. I know her for the past five years and i am in love with her from that very point of time whence the "past five years" started. I've decided a myriads and myriads of times not to think of her ever and for never. But, I st...

At the hour of Last breath

(A poem by Rafeeque Ahammad. Translated by Anand ) Stay with me at the hour of my last breath, Amassing the burning veracities of life, My Fingers are dead, Let them get ease by caressing you. Last molecules of my breath may cart thy fragrance. My love, let thy face plunge In the eyes of mine, never to be opened. Ears, no longer be opened for sounds, Be sealed with thy mellifluousness. Mind, burning with thoughts and memoir, Be filled with thy evergreen memories. Kisses-made scars on my lips, Heal in the sweet chants of thy name. Reminiscences of journey,   Unto thee my love, my feet tranquil. That’s enough for me, Buried under the earth, I resurrect- Newborn leaves of grass.