Good things in life.
Are there any ?
If there are where are they hidden ?
In this world where your father is misery,
Mother is prejudice and your
Sibling is vengeance;
How can you find good things in life ?
How can you, when a child cries not for hunger but for power;
How can you, when a lover cries not for the loss of love but for the loss of lust;
How can you, when a mother cries not for child but for her jewels;
How can you find the good things in life ?
How luxurious is life?
Bottling up our feelings,
Thrashing our fantasies,
Breaking our dreams,
Spreading makeup over abuse.
When just a snap from a suspending rope,
Can give us the wings of liberation.
We all need to find our inner child.
Whilst I was accusing an acquaintance of mine for ditching me on Sunday, which rendered a non-fruitful evening of watching TV series, lamenting about the one’s that I couldn’t watch, watch videos of people bashing ‘Sasural Simar Ka’ and play with cats who think they’re my room mates; a thought about “Change” struck me.
Back in Mysore my Sundays were different. It started with getting up early, calling Samy and asking if she’s up and ready. Later cycle to the foot hills off ‘Chamundi Hills’ and park our cycles. Then began the 30 minutes ascend! Talking about utter non-sense and life changing matters simultaneously we’d reach the top. Sit down for a while, later go to the tender coconut gut and drink tender coconut. Later we’d descend in 15 minutes but suffer cramps, serves us right for dis-regarding physics! Later came breakfast at GTR. We’d order Masala Dosas and I’d later follow it with Uddin Wada (Medhu Wada). Head home and crash.
Get up in the evening and do something crazy, read a book, just cycle with no destination in mind, or go to Sam’s place and hog and gossip.
Since the time I moved to Mumbai I’ve never had these fun rendezvous with friends. And with the home sickness it invoked a craving for friends and a reason for dis-liking Mumbai.
Change is constant.
We can’t stay put neither can we always delve into our past. My Sunday schedules too have under gone changes. From the dosa dipped in ghee days to the buzzing days to the current static ones. Life keeps on moving and we need to accept it!
We fret about change and we fret due to change!
We are in constant struggle with change whether we like it or not. So where is peace?
Does this mean we’ll have to find peace within war ?
Like a new born he struggles,
Wriggles to break free,
Crawls to follow his dreams.
He’s a prisoner,
Not of crime but of loneliness;
And his curse can be liberated,
Not by a knight but;
Only with the lips of his beloved!
Don’t judge anyone! But if a person is a fan of Saman Khan or voted for Trump or forwards fake messages; judge that person all you want!
You can’t make it inside a Mumbai Local with tolerance. With force yes, but force backed with Aggression you might even get a seat in Virar fast!