Sueño de la carne y de los huesos
Just almost when I thought I had seen it all, it struck me surreptitiously where it hurts the most. A morbidly self-obsessed pantomime of an ugly and long smear ridden with nothing but tart, unraveled itself to me and I willingly failed to see that my own instincts were orchestrating it despite being so laden with immeasurable contradictions in my notions and moral dilemmas.
It was an excruciatingly painful repeat of one of my favorite one-liners from the once-upon-a-time love of my life coming from a rather unexpected source. I am a bit ambivalent on saying anything good about it but surely it was an eye-opener to me at a time when my emotions were deliberately and hopelessly nose driven to the abysmal depths of promiscuous carnality. I was saddened to observe that even being addressed by someone else on that note was frustratingly inefficient to take me out from the quagmire of my past, and haplessly I kept on watching myself plunging deeper and deeper into it despite all the fiddling gyrations of mundane pleasure my senses were subjected to.
I was not chuffed at it in the slightest but again the feeling of yet another revealed myth-buster had certainly emerged from the dorm of subjugated desires and fainted hopes by the time I was back to normality. It visibly belied for good the notion of an everlasting yet imaginary belief ingrained in the ‘love’, once offered to me, that was tainted in pretence, ugliness, deceit, hideous pungency and absolute filth.
Admittedly, I have realized now, more than ever, that everything happens for a good reason and almighty knows what the best for everyone. To handle such encounters with the mitts of brutal reality and convolutions of human err, it must be remembered that a lesson learnt must not be revisited, as it’s as easy as relapsing into the pitfalls on the bridges that have been crossed over troubled waters long ago courtesy of the hands of the one who is all in all.
Have a nice life …………
A traveler in a strange land
Two years have swung by since I lost my sanity to a departure that seemed the most cruel thing that had happened to any human being at that time but looking at the outcome of that strange phase of my life takes nothing from me as the mighty hands that the Master of the tavern holds everything that is destined for me. The sense of ignorance still dogs and haunts me with all the tease and pain that is still all over my days and nights. My tears are still tinged by the nuances of those melting lips and broken hearts. I don’t know what have I lost into my stride to this moment in time as the ability to compare on the spectrum of loss and gain is blurred enough to take me to a spiral of bitter cynicism and unprecedented selflessness. The clarity of the intentions of my fate still looks very distant as it doesn’t need any recognition by me as the owner of the harvest is keeping it all away from the reprimand. The command of the beloved is all that a lover can demand in the face of all the harshness and atrocities inflicted from within and from outside.
I am waiting to see the terminal conclusion of my planned journey and a final departure of all that I still love and make myself worthy of his hand that will take me to the land of unknown and unplanned destiny where beloved is all in all and lover is none.
Though I will remain alive to remember all that has happened to me and somewhere every spec of my heart and every drop my tears will connect me to those moments where I blessed someone and was blessed without getting into the debate of what is right and wrong?
Have a nice life ……….
A Scottish Night and a Book – A Trip Down the Memory Lane
Perched nonchalantly on a wooden carved armchair, there seemed like an abstract galaxy of fossilized desires, charred ego and yielding silence of a defeated soul that once stood in the face of all ungrounded demons and insanity of immortal fears. It was the moment where the crudest face of my reality was all pervasive in the silence ridden with sense of my thickening blood and sinking heartbeats into the murk of night that was slowly reclaiming its territory across the horizon.
I shut the book and walked away from the hive, but could not help thinking over it repetitively. I felt an unknown bondage held by it only to draw me closer and closer with the onset of every new thought and every new flash of the light telling each other how stormy it was both in the mind and out of it. Wading into a contemplatory puddle of my past and an uncertain future, surprisingly I got carried away far more down the road than what I would have strolled past on any other given day without having so much going on in my head. With the worsening weather, the night was hell-bent on drawing its curtains to smother any visibility whatsoever in a very precognitive manner. The peak of the mountain was really testing the eyesight, while I was trying hard to cope with gushing wind blowing vehemently from the North Sea front. The might of solitude was laid bare in front of me with all its grace, often chequered by the sound of passing by caravans and lorries.
Even the merest idiot would have guessed what was going on in the back of the troubled mind, but ironically it was outside the domain of the conventional wisdom and tangibility to care about what that preposterous culmination had been through or what could have been the reason behind that outlandishly freaky disposition of a calmed exterior.
While on my way back, I realized once again with the thickening mist that my world was full of skepticism which was constantly being victimized by the virtue of its mercurial nature and its obsession with the dynamics of the flux. To be able to know that ‘Being over head and ears’ in love with mortality seemed to negate the very basis of a cathartic life that promised to look a return in the wake of even the most staunch of an opposition that could have come from within and even the sweetest of all imaginable looks could not have relinquished its presence deep inside my heart.
Have a nice life ............
The Departure Terminal
Desires are known to enslave rationality and a perception of exuberance that lasts only for a short while seems nothing short of a tumultuous twister that is destined to change lives forever by not letting the “change of the lifetime” change anything. In the worst possible case I reckon, the quirk of fate will preside over everything else and these earthly shackles will no longer be a hindrance to the flight of the pigeon.
While trying to prevent myself from being knocked off the chair by the gush of drowsiness and acute melancholia in the early hours of the day, it is decidedly unthinkable not to think about the extent of my swing in a very quick span of passing days and nights. There is nothing surreptitious or clandestine about this massive split in my personality to me but surprisingly it helps keep my exterior much stronger than anyone else caught in the same fix at any given time.
Admittedly, it is a rather far fetched assumption to have in the wake every night and day that brings nothing but a massive pile-up on your soul only to leave an already bleeding heart in shambles. The constant thirst for ideas to satiate the wanderlust of a deeply fragmented mindset feels no less painful than an ironical slap in the face of reality. This paradoxical attempt to antagonize causality through result is a never-ending quest for glittering opulence of the Eldorado.
This is the end of yet another spell of having a constant source of his radiance around myself. Although lived across a very short spectrum of space and time, leaving the departure lounge of the airport today could not have prevented me from relapsing into another déjà vu where crumbling hearts and overwhelming emotions are inundated with each other long after your cab reaches the known destination on a metaphorically unknown plane.
Have a nice life ............
Maze of the Dreamcather
The weight of my pounding heartbeats with every passing phase of the night seems to defy more and more tragically the myth of the shielding dreamcather even in the arms of most beholding beauty ever known to me. It’s pretty much unbearable to even hold the thought of taking a step further and inter into a territory showing a familiar sight to sooth my weltering mind with absolutely no chance to recuperate from the looming shadows of a chequered past with a chimerical trace leading to a fragmented future in the offing that is yet to be encountered.
This is rather outlandish to conceive that this stifling sense of commotion in the subconscious is robust enough to stay for a longer period of time but at the same time its very disturbing to realize that by all available definitions of insanity it is very much close to get me to the point where all my logic and rationality will cease to exist and life at that point will dwell into a dimension where strings and spheres of my imagination will be inseparable from the rocky grounds of the most subliminal preconception of the truth of my existence.
Have a nice life …………
Floating Hopes on Fleeting Glances
It must have taken a modicum of an already ebbed struggle to pierce the elation of a far fetched span of my imagination to observe the increasing terseness in my yet-to-be smothered torso of ego with the dawn of every morning of the first day of the rest of my life. It is pretty interesting to see the passing of an insurmountable behemoth of skepticism in the wake of countless and petty resurfacings of my drowning resistance stemming out of my rather realistic and tireless quest to prove that there is a silver lining out there that will ditch this monumentally perpetual darkness pervading my inner realms.
In the face of a doomed existence and sucked hopelessly in the eye of the storm, even the slightest of the quiver imposes the risk of taking everything away from the clutches of my palms which are exposed mercilessly to the profligacy of a greedy destitute.Deep inside the cellar of a calmed exterior, I cast a serious doubt on finding a resting place for even the most ingrained piece of surrealistic thought. It doesn’t sound any more idiosyncratic than a routine encounter with a conversational cliché dwelling into nitty-gritty of the daily life that I am forced to live, although it traces back its origin to the day when it all took place to last beyond the horizon of my flesh and breath. This self-imposed veneer of blinded indigence threatens to strips myself off my most precious wealth of having the privilege of seeing the unseen with my eyes wide open even in the most profound darkness of my mercurial faith and incessant uncertainty.
All my prayers! Take me to the land of floating clouds and dancing moons encircling the periphery of the vision of my master, where time and space play the clown to steal a glance of the most primordial form of attraction which is holding everything seen and unseen together to mother the universes known and unknown to the intelligence harboring the third rock from the sun.
Have a nice life ............
The Crumbling Juggernaut of Faith
Far from the dimming eyes of the sinking sun under the stupor of waxing darkness across the Westside horizon, the decaying gargoyle of our once unfathomable trust in the supreme order seems to have washed ashore like a fallen angle who is being dragged kicking and screaming by the rather reverential demons of the new world order.
This is nothing short of being congratulatory about the decadence of our own lifeblood under the influence of an unprecedented mass hysteria, but the real ironical slap in the face of this whole shebang is manifested in the ever-increasing ego driven mania towards the acquisition of more and more control over this petty and insignificantly lived life at the mercy of the inevitable clinch of the grim reaper.
On the other hand, this also shows that homogeneity of the system, once believed to be restricted or rather defined by the notions impregnated by the mythical wisdom is yielding to the randomness and chaos. One’s own defined monotheism is defining his or her religion stance therefore being judgmental by looking at representation of divinity imbued in mud doesn’t not infer the same about the divinity. As the traditional Taoist saying goes: "The Tao that can be told is not the Eternal Tao", it is quite evident that idol is a signpost to God, but it is not God itself. It is the “true-to-our-eyes” guise of the "Dogma of God” that becomes an object of worship. We perceive God in our very own way and there is no duplicity in the combination of the universality of God and the uniqueness of every individual.
It is true that by this reasoning, any form of fundamentalism is idolatry, whether monotheist, polytheist, or other. Having said that I personally believe that there are certain forms of faith resonating with cords of billions of the masses and any act of disrespect shown to them to some extent reflects the graduating moral bankruptcy of the society that we live in.
Have a Nice life ............
Tilting at windmills
At times there are instances where I fail to do anything but surmise that I would rather see myself at the mercy of uncertainty than relinquishing all that I have to prove others predictions about a certain future. This bravado of self-sustenance is nothing but a veil of siren that is shrouded by its own ignorance and slowly turning into a sob captivated in the grooves of mortality. Strange yet sermonically manifested realism that is clad in my alter ego has never looked any bitter than this despite my efforts to put a lid of transcendental fantasy to muff it down. This perpetual conundrum that is gradually giving way to a poisonous skepticism which is treading a path straddling across the domains of faith and insanity, is far from the reach of my ken, but interestingly enough i see myself change colors with nuances of this monumental perplexity. The evolution of my faith and denigration of mundane appendages looks similar to the parables, which I used to listen to in my hay-days with a tinge of disbelief. Paradoxically this stifling sense of liberation suggests in a rather skewed way that the endeavors to levitate this mortal existence of mine prove nothing without the descending aura of that oneness which is known to be turning never-contending melancholy into everlasting pleasure ever since the dawn of human history. Underneath the auburn shades of elms embraced in the locks of glittering twilight, there are velvety petals of rose scattered along the meandering path, which is kindled by the grace of his countenance. Even if our minds are falling prey to the towering darkness, it is the shining of this eternal flame, which is making all the sorrow and pain ebb even in the face of the most tumultuous atrocity human kind has ever seen. Have a nice life...
Fate
Just stumbled upon this very nice piece of wisdom..... so thought of sharing it with you all my visitors:
Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
By Cowper
Have a nice life..
Burlesque at Equinox
Its looks rather stupendous than surreal that the all the unraveling mysteries of the life I have spent so far are suddenly flooding back to the crater of my heart from where it had been thrashing out to the fore vehemently and I have never seen any barrier strong enough to pull off even the slightest amount of grace out of this lost battle with my own demons. So sorry yet so painstakingly adamant on the view to see myself galvanize my destiny, I wonder that at times this whole shebang become so foolhardy that it relapses into its own dug pitfalls again and again.
It does sound very familiar to my life saga that has been put to the rhetoric of my every passing day, nevertheless there remains a chance to see a brighter horizon as the time passes me by. The fiercely consolidated logic behind my faith never looked any stronger in the wake of all the disasters I had been though but it still takes me by surprise by reminding me that I am still looking for a conviction to be imposed on me from the other side. The tearing reality doesn’t deny this wee fact that compared to others I draw comparisons from, how veiled my farcical existence is. There is a complete spectrum of layers superimposing each other on every stratum and most of the time they lie to me when I am gagging for the truth behind this monumental fallacy.
Whatever it takes nothing seems to pacify this everlasting quest for gratified wanderlust, but the best part of self-discovery is that it grows on you and never let others control what you are let alone controlling what you try to become...
Have a nice life you ............
Anthropomorphous Ape
As Darwin says, “There can be no doubt, that the difference between the mind of the lowest man and that of the highest animal is immense, if he could take a dispassionate view of his own case”.
But would not an anthropomorphous version of us, have to admit to very much the same sort of limitations? Dealing with them simply make one run the risk of attributing human-style consciousness to a group of subliminal dispositions which appears to be governed principally by a variety of urges - to dominate and display; to mate, feed, rest and groom.
If they are, in their indolence and solipsism, incessant squabbling and ungovernable promiscuity, are masquerading the vagaries of human nature, then I must say I am thoroughly appalled by my own sense of wisdom that claws into whatever I perceive from my surroundings. The sign of the “maturity” is reflecting in every possible way with the march of penguins and is driven by the solitary need to stuff their egos with irreprehensible panache that is nothing less than utter pile of Kafkaesque darkness.
If only this termination could find an explanation among the pre-conceived notions lying deep down the abyss of our super ego, probably that day would end the ever-lasting quest to find the evidence of a divine creator.
Have a nice life ……..
The worst denominator of an unfortunate spiral - Disgust of August
This is one of the most disgusting days of the life I have spent so far...I dont what is so bad about it as every year it comes with more and more sorrow and glum to me. The misery is that I cant avoid it. I have no bloody idea what on earth I am doing while scribbling my way through another puddle of my own shit..... Get a grip you looser...Get over all that is smeared on your face! Just occurred to me when a whiff of filth swung me by, swept the ground beneath my feet before i could ask why, nonetheless i am adamant on the belief of my core, unsurmountable is the abyss of your squalor and gore.
The song of the Angels
Hafiz 198
I said, when will your lips mine satisfy?
You said, with your wishes I’ll comply.
I said, your lips demand a price so high,
You said, your profits will multiply.
I said, who found you while only on himself rely?
You said, there are very few who even try.
I said, leave the idols, choose the one that won’t die;
You said, for lovers, love to all will apply.
I said, the tavern drowns my every sigh;
You said, happy is the one who makes sorrows fly.
I said, in my creed, the way of wine must defy;
You said, this is the way of the creed of the old Magi.
I said, what use the wine, for one as old as I?
You said, it wets your spring of youth, which has gone dry.
I said, when will the master beside his bride lie?
You said, when the conjunction of moon and Jupiter is nigh.
I said, your praise is Hafiz’s ceaseless cry,
You said, this is the song of the angels in the sky.
Wishes
One more year and so many reprehensible blots getting washed away in the drizzle of sunshine and monsoon showers. This is singularly the most hideous task that I take up to my chest to carry off and most probably it will keep turning out to be a routine on a yearly basis till I spare all my life years and months and day. I am so much detached yet so much aware of the fact that this is one of the biggest setbacks that has seen me nearly snatched away by the grimness of the riper into the mouth of sheer madness and coming years will witness the uphill struggle of my wounded soul to make up for this Mexican fall.
Still, I am having the same streak of benevolence and love for all that has hurt me and is constantly making me bleed in one way or another. Nevertheless, some distant offing reminds me of my helplessness that is brewing inside and untiringly stifling the occasional bursts of laughter whenever I chance upon them.
I wish that at the expense of the rest of my life, someday I might be able to surmount the mountain of repentance to win a chance to die at the feet of my master and a glimpse of the slightest of the speck of mercy in his eyes. Let the world rest in all the peace and happiness.
“In this path to die enslaved to the Lord, Than all the world, that Soul is better.
Ask healer of my painful discord, Will this invalid ever get better?”
A new FaceLift
After a long long time.... its time to say something again to my heart.
Just in tune with the meteoric change in my life in the past couple of months. Now here I am standing and watching the same odds beating a gentle retreat to my own humbleness while leaning on the privileged pillar of mercy of the one galvanizing my lifeblood all in all.Well, this very thought of Mexican shift in the amount of my own plight is nothing but an indication of the fact that what we are never changes, but who we are never stops changing.
On this note, I am leaving Singapore Airline to take off for yet another night to soar into a world of all new horizons and hopes where happiness and hope dwells in every possible corner of all aspiring hearts on a perpetual voyage.
Love you forever......