Evanescence Eloquence and Dreams

A knight’s dream is an ensemble of glory, love, pain and death. The eloquence of victory, the fear of loss and a seeming hushed hope for adoration, quite intrinsically imbibes the genes of mortality itself. At their own assorted levels, each idiosyncrasy manifests with a vigor of its own, waning away progressively with time, making way for another. Dissociation of imagination with a significant level of persistence in ephemerality though seemingly subservient to an unknown plane of consciousness, impregnates the three layers of impermanence which is better carved up by the contours of time as the past, the present and the future. Transience of being makes them real, while somewhere deep inside one’s consciousness, inside the veils of thoughtlessness, exists a thought of eternality. The feeling of permanence in an endless stream of bliss, wisdom, splendor, strength, wealth, fame and renunciation. 

‘So near yet so far’, perhaps is quite a familiar thought in it’s own scheme of things. Quite implicitly, the essence of true wisdom perhaps subject to self-realization, seems to have established its own order of precedence. Frailty of mortal vision makes one perceive a snake even when a piece of rope is lying around. Does that imply, that one has experienced a snake before, most probably in a similar situation or are the wavelengths of wisdom shared across immortality ? It could be neither too, as ignorance limits thoughts and curbed thoughts limit mortal vision. The myth of self-fulfilling prophecies power the vanity of existential being. With unrealized dimensions and non-existent assumptions they appear to be true and necessitate exceptions to espouse the theorized advocacy.

An unrealized dream in which mortality takes birth, lives, dies and replenishes must have an innate aim. The goals of duality opposes the very laws of nature in the ascribed absence of boundlessness. The goal of a seeker is to seek and in this case wisdom of being and non-being seems paramount to satiate the quest of life.

Caprice and Collusion

Myriad delusions of caprice in a mortal's fabric of thoughts, more often than not, ensue quite a preemptive genre of inveteracy. Theories of devolution along with axioms of evolution, strike each other with an otherwise majestic potency, which is often too innate and perhaps even more incapable of rationalization. To the third eye, it might preserve a level of bizarre persistence, but to astrally insignificant one, its promises yet another inconsequential stride. Desires of malevolence with a precise level of benign thoughtlessness at times, constitute the nascent stage for an appetite for aberration. Thoughtfulness most certainly comes at a price, though abhorrence at times becomes priceless. And this is precisely where, the impact occurs. 

Akin to an antediluvian architectural elegance, the baroque framework of thoughts seem unprecedented.  A pandemonium of adversarial notions seem to populate the unusual vacuum in the speculative image of self. Benign or vitriolic, the attributive mechanism bestows a psychic realm. The cadence of notions often remits a transformational behavioral bug, perhaps even construed as whim. Neither does it have a beginning, nor does it have an end. Perhaps in it's pristine state it defies any interdependence with matter itself. The latency of a nascent state of emotional imbalance cannot have any other attribution rather than to itself. Creating, destroying and manifesting in variegated stripes of the rainbow, dissimulates with recurrence forestalling any certainty.

Impulse in other words serves as the pseudo-romantic force behind all creation, destruction and manifestation. Whether backed by light or darkness, coercion or persuasion, benevolence or malevolence, it's invocation remains largely unresponsive towards the nature of the force, unless countered by a force greater than itself. Disparate elements persistently ascribe towards theoretical expurgation with motive change of the nature of force-fields. Relativity seems to be the nature of the law of being itself, driving us crazy and our masters even crazier. Chaos seems to be one of the fragments of the puzzle with a feeble yet certain allusion to tranquility.

bLIP

Creative Commons@clickykbd

Drizzling rains and stonewashed skies can most certainly tempt the liberals to the beat. And yes, that could perhaps go on till the end of eternity. But a certain sense of perpetuity could bequeath the randomers with a shrill and poisonous embrace. Incessant milieu subject to quotidian analogy could suffocate the very fragments of air that powers the lungs, often till a sense of conclusive mortality. A blip is often decried as a trouble-spot or an unwelcome shift from the norms, but still amazing are the consequences its mere absence could entail. Sometimes a bastion of ever new joy and sometimes to the envy of intellectual pygmies. Paroxysms covetously fission the mental manifestation of self  whereas detachment sustains it. Humans as a matter of fact strive for eternity to attain a balance between the two, with some inherent mental inclinations. Yet fleeting ones always somehow accomplish an exodus, be it in the realm of physical or the metaphysical. Initially, as kids some are quite infected with the existence of an El Dorado, sometimes not because of its surreal abundance, rather because of its conceived absence of any further desires. Everything you want is everything you get. Seems so even and blissful, but it harbors one draconian devil of multiple paradoxes. Firstly, what if there are negating feelings, each for its own selfish arousal. Secondly, its likeness with dogs chasing cars, for the dog would not know what to do if it actually ends up catching one. What would someone want then! Rarely a mortal knows what it needs, it only conditions its wants. Numbly feeling oneself devoid of any guilt as such, though with a feeble endeavor to experience some contrasts, turns exceedingly egregious past the limits. May be it's innate in the causal nature of self-preservation, often ascribed to vanity. 

The Merovingian

The King hath come,
Along the wind he swayed his mighty wings,
Foregone were the days of indolence,
Forlorn were those consequences,
Time to claim what was left unredeemed,
For sake of life with a right to live.

Bitter-Sweet Symphony

"I let the melody shine,
let it cleanse my mind,
I feel free"

'A nice canto!', as you might perceive or might not do so. But for Ray, it meant a lot more than a sudden gust of a balmy breeze. A bizarre kind of ennui seemed to have pervaded his thoughts already. Somewhere down the memory lane, he could see a young fifteen-year old standing akimbo, beside his bicycle with his usual alacrity.The verve and impatience repudiated every claim of any logical analysis. Each of the umpteen strategies was promptly disowned and committed to a low priority level but for his own instinct, with the only hope that his convictions will last till the last puff of air is drawn into his body. But change is perpetuity and hope hopeless.

A sudden wistful longing at rather sporadic moments drew his mind to fairly intangible things. Things which were always grayed out. The thoughts that can never be conclusive of anything and betrayed his imminent judgment. 'A free mind can make a free man', is a simple adage with an nonnegotiable wisdom. Yet, it takes a life time of struggle to realize that. Somewhere something had been mistaken in an inference which precisely violated the laissez-faire law. Still it would take a monstrous effort to amass every shred of confidence which was lost in translation.

Time had been standing in its usual non-violated sense of amour propre. It behooves 'time' to use such means to make ordinary mortals realize their own worth. The time had come to renounce inaction and start living. The thoughts gradually seemed to be unshackling and a mere change in mindset made thoughts clear, judgments clearer.

A rendezvous with Destiny: Enter Rainman

What could you possibly do when all circumstances sketch an incontrovertible visage?

What if there is neither an inception nor an end?

What if all the possible alternatives have preempted one another?

And finally who wins the duel of the fate?

You or is it your fate!

Call it divine intervention or be it serendipity..... or what ever else your mind can make you delve into..

There is one road to be taken, there is one destiny to be reached. There enters 'The Rainman'.

A dimly lit hall with few broken pieces of furniture, an ancient couch and a table with a visibly allergic layer of dust, incapable of attracting attention of even something remotely humane, was occupied by its only tenant : Ray. He always felt a deep abhorrence for the place, like he did for stinking canals with floating waste. But these days were special, though not in that specific sense. Somehow all the difficulties had taken an insurmountable stance before him and he was finding it impossible to deal them all, at once with impartiality. His usual confidence was swaying in a bottomless chasm and yet he was fighting for poise. With a fleeting smile and insane humor, he managed to make people laugh at times, yet he failed to make himself do the same.

Nobody occupied the couch either at late night or during the early part of dawn, when no palatable television soaps or sports were aired. That served as a prime advantage, as a quantum of solace. A glistening drop of rain glowing with the street light, caught his eyes when it was struggling along the window glass trying to make a mark, perhaps it was too a question mark. Ray had seen disgrace but could not feel it because it seemed just unbelievable. He had gone numb.

He had lost faith in God a couple of times before, but this time it was like a thunderbolt, as they always are: they arrive unexpected and are bang on target. He smiled at himself in the brazen mirror, as if at all there was a road to be taken which he did not take. If at all there was a mistake to be committed which he could not, so that he can justify it to himself by putting the blame upon.

He gradually delved into his intermittent heart-beat and yet he could not feel himself. His body seemed to be non-existent, his mind seemed to have transposed the balance. He realized it was a heart he had, it was blood he lost to the leech sucking his blood in his left foot. He remembered one word from his mother..'salt'. He ran across and then decimated the leech with salt. It melted down into a pathetic skeleton of itself. Just like something else.

It was around 5'o clock in the morning that made him realize that there was a thing called a bed and there was workplace to be visited at sharp 10'o clock. And now he seemed to be everything it was :"Destiny's Child" rather a step-child.

He thought of the solitary Rainman:"He walks unperturbed, unfettered with the same vision unchanged with non-linear time."

Propitiation

Unquenched cravings, eternal thoughts and an irrefutable present, these are aces of my day break, when I wake up from my ever transient dreams. For a moment, it becomes too grueling to accept the present in lieu of the feasible future. Thoughts and dreams alike remain symbolic to the 'mirror of the erised'. They cast a reflection of the way I want to see things at a distant time which signifies neither possibility nor improbability. It vents out my imminent quest, the journey I have been longing for and the journey which I should embark.

Often in my life, I ascribe this realization as to being ineffable but it is not really so. It consists of amorphous aspirations with foundation in an incipient state. An Utopian world where fleeting thoughts are not so fleeting, fancy is actuality and insatiability propitiates the very cause for which a human being is born. In fact desire satiates both deed and dream. As I write these lines I feel an intense desire to transcend the verbose and express myself in a few short lucid lines, as do the great philosophers and thinkers. But I feel I am incapable of doing it so. After all, it is not easy to easily express every bit of thought or every ounce of emotion. Neither do I stand remotely even in the verge of doing so. Yet my verve to convey myself remains unfettered, unaltered in seemingly immortal verities.

The most difficult thing to achieve in one's lifetime is an inconspicuous object called integrity. The thing which cannot be bundled with comparative or superlative degrees. A thing which can exist only in an absolute sense. It simply exists or is non-existent. This is one thing which I yearn for in this life. I do not want to look upto anyone else but myself. This is the only thing that preserves the pristine sanctity of life devoid of either joy or sorrow. Idealism is a variable whereas integrity is an absolute unpossessed by any kind of relative sense, idealism may or may not be its verisimilitude.

Time follows a linear theme forever having neither digression nor pre-meditation. It is supposedly we who caper with it and land up in prevalently inopportune quantums of time. However insurmountable, incapable of defeat the situation appears to be, we should be standing tall in front of it. The only unparalleled weapon to fight their kind is integrity of a human.

I look upto the life which is beyond so that I live to conquer the apparently fleeting bliss of it. It is an expedition which is both introspective and prospective in nature. It is neither an illusion nor an allusion to idealism. My only pondering is, why I want to do so. An imperfect life with a perfect probability still prevails with its endearment to one desirous journey.

A long journey towards humility

A journey which has its antecedents in humility and the final destination largely inculcates and fortifies the credence in its primal form. It the journey called life.

At this juncture, the road ahead can not be even remotely juxtaposed with this freeway in the picture. Its much of a fleeting vision with opacity in the immediate horizon. Then what should I do to divert the journey of darkness towards the professed journey of light!

Its a major predicament that the corporeal form faces perhaps numerous times during its short tenure on this not so green planet. Soothsayers say its a test of character, palmists say its an atonement for the past misdeeds and so on. The reasons may coalesce to form a motley, but the implication remains the same. And its one inevitable thing, I have to face it. There are two diversified approaches: Either I face it like I face everyday or I allow it to amend my each day. The first one can make me and so forth the second can break me. In the midst of an uncertain future where everything appears to be at stake, I have to brave the present, let go of the past and construct the future. It's the primal force which makes us evolve. May be I am not too acquiescent with the present as its just impossible to foretell the implications now. In a sense its difficult to retain my normal self in this present impasse.

The immediate atmosphere influences it the most, I just become so human under pressure. Perhaps, I need render a more flexible mentality in due course of time which could invigorate the credence in myself. The mental blocks can create an illusion of a kind of monstrous power to be dwelt with. But it is all in the omnipotent mind, as they say. You control, you win. You let it control, it would annihilate your identity. It's the identity which one needs to build with clarity in perception. Let's see when...

Bits of Star Gone Wrong

We are bits of stellar matter that got cold by accident,
bits of a star gone wrong.
- Sir Arthur Eddington

This channels my thoughts into a predicament of penitence. If everything worked out just as well as the beautiful mind makes it seem, then this would alleviate all the troubles of people. But does the beautiful mind really exist? Or it becomes a manifestation of our own desires and wishes which would not be so benign to us as we imagine. Human desire seems to be an unbound cadence.

The very fear of losing something which we never had makes it difficult to achieve something which is otherwise quite within the reach. We humans become unnecessarily difficult persons through our outward demeanor. Feeling of pain may seem incumbent to turn our little disappointments into pathos. Does it hurt us so much or do we hurt ourselves a bit more than it would really do? Feelings of someone are the most abstruse things to decipher when there are myriad strings of emotions attached to them.

Perhaps the problems may have become imminent but would they really exist as such in true reality ? Just the fact that it takes years to build one sustainable relationship with a firm, a person or a piece of property, does not confer their perpetuality. Nor, does it make sense to shatter these to oblivion on minor predicaments. Almost like an inane proposition these seem to be our points of botheration for the creation of which we ourselves were the prime abettors at some point in time. There could be pretty much to apprise ourselves of than trying to convey it cross-borders.

It's difficult to be articulate on the matter which turns out to be too abstruse in such kind of scenario. It takes courage to resist and overcome such quantum of minor delusions. Immeasurable self-reflection might not be so benign. So it might be best if it keeps coming back even when one's desire to hold it diminishes. When you love a thing then it should be set free, it would come back if it was always yours; and if it doesn't, it was not meant to be!

Beyond the horizons

"So this is where it begins", Ray told himself. He had the clairvoyance that it would impede the flow at a certain juncture. It had become so difficult to abstain from the truth. Still in its impalpable manifestation, it could make some sense for the second time. The first time was when he had around ten years of time during which had undergone certain catastrophic atrophy under inadvertent whims.

Pressure had an adverse effect on him, when thought purely on emotional grounds otherwise he usually did not succumb to. It was God-gifted luck that sometimes gave the impulse to defeat a mounting alteration on his composure. Countless thoughts seem to hover around this predicament. An impasse had to be avoided. It was worthwhile in making the efforts necessary to rise to the occasion without thinking what failure later might make you bereft of.

And it seemed diabolical again, for God most certainly doesn't play dice. But this necessitated a victory as they say, 'sometimes winning is everything'. The devil smiled upon the lesser evil. His thoughts didn't belie reality. Things were placed at an imperative brim to foretell his wish. Wishes may be sometimes unreasonable but he thought otherwise almost instantly. If it was a younger Ray then everything should be perfect and that too perfectly perfect. But with time these implacable whims had drifted away and a ray of common-sense had surged in. If every thought was emotive and the actions following them took complete credence in them, then there was lesser chance of enlightenment. Finally, he had to build faith in his intricate senses and intuition.

Time had progressively inculcated patience in him. He knew some things are perhaps worth a wait. The gory dreams and nightmares had instilled some virtues which had not been perhaps bequeathed to him as a birthright. Aware of the fact that clouds could obscure the moon too soon, he craved for his wishes and started to categorically deliberate on each one of them. To him these wishes were human, but there were still impediments which shouldn't have been there. And these were human too. "May be I am a devil incarnate", he muttered to himself.

He had mustered a definite level of clarity on right and wrong by this time. He had a life to live for and he would heed to only moral reasons, not to equivocating environmental whims. On a personal level, he had wished these things not to exist at the first place, but then he would have been bereft of some greater experiences too. Tranquility was what he was searching for, may be this is what we all humans search it for a lifetimes.

Some unusual moments in life could turn out to be most decisive after all. There was such a compulsive flash and he could perceive the manifestation beyond impervious walls of imagination. The time wasn't quite right this time in a line contradiction to his thoughts. Insuperable circumstances could impel the situation in foreseeable future. There are times in life when one is forced to take steps which one abhors most, but later they turn out to be the perfect blends to make a journey smooth.

Our Benefactors

Looking skywards marveling at the bewitched stars and just fleeting to an ephemeral day-dream, we usually have a sudden gust for realization of our quintessential self. The real benefactors cease existence and the very thought seems to scare our might. There is a sudden rise in abhorrence for the very cause we lack the independence. But independence is an ambiguity in itself. It entails a concerted effort from listless humans to survive. Some come to be known while others remain veiled for a lifetime. It's said we are the only one who are only ones who are the cartographers of our lives. But isn't the very concept worthy of a draconian dispute? There are some things which have a penchant to test our audacity. There's a diabolical causality in the underlying realms.

Usually the expectations and whims that threaten to tranquil the aggressive self. May be it takes time for emotions to settle aplomb and realize that some of the expectations are just fancy. It may pertain to the expectation of parents, may be friends or may be your better-half. It would just look majestic but from their perception. Your interests and your passion are much alien to others with an exception of a few cases. The burning desire to be a dream-weaver doesn't leave much space to relax, it's the atrophy you yourself undergo in a slow pace. Loosing self is the biggest loss if I had a say in it. It takes such a monstrous effort to rediscover yourself in the tiny bottlenecks of time.

It's a welcoming reason when you are asked to set your priorities right. Standing akimbo you can't set them right impromptu. There's a dire need of cognizance of priorities in the first place. Some processes have to run eternal while others are ephemeral. Some need time to decipher and some need to be 'terminated now'. It is you yourself, who is the sole stakeholder here. It is time to stand up and shout it loud to the soul within. There are no benefactors in this world. You can be a beneficiary if the will and whim is there to do something. It is time to wake up and rise and rise high...

Definitive Diversions

Sooothsayers often elucidate with this proverbial danger, " What is already done cannot be undone". The phrase does make these people a behemoth to the believers, but the belief itself is fugitive intrinsically. It slowly fades away like the fleeting clouds to unveil the azure skies. Diversions defy being explicit most of the times. They only occur with formidable force. Some may seek vengeance where others may try to restore the balance. Life in itself is a conundrum and diversions are the entities. Somewhere solved, a few times replaced and most of the time they are in a state of flux.

The flux state is manipulated by audacity, courage and last but not the least wisdom. They bend along where the force overpowers it. Life in itself is a bequest to all of us. The journey makes us experience, analyze and realize. Every fallacy does pertain to permanence. It's the evanescent nature that causes these diversions.

There's a need to redefine some things time to time. Things and thoughts lacking proper classification make little sense else galvanize a problem to much bigger dimensions. Haven't we observed since childhood that the sweet coincidences are brought about when we require them the most. The genesis of the force that manifests our wishes is yet to be known. How many times we make things happen when we need it most!

There is a simple answer to this: we are making certain things happen. May be it's not so generic because there are a lot of abstruse concepts yet to be known in this journey called life.

Fleeting Bliss

bliss. n. a state of extreme happiness

Dreams seem to coexist with the human race since aeon. Their very existence might seem evanescent to this real world. It's true to an extent that these make us set a firm resolve to live but humans are attracted towards fallacies too. The vision is obscured by ambitions most of the times and the frenzied mind makes them appear real. These quintessential patterns are the solemn urge of our wishes and fancies.

The light apparently converges at a distant horizon but its the human perception that is fallacious. It always runs towards infinity. The pain is not receding. The true vision is dominant when there is a realization of self. The friction between the whims and entailment vanishes. Bliss emancipates the individual not on the attainment of dreams but it's the bliss itself. It's in a way proprietary to the being.

The eyes emanate innocence, the lips majestic expression together ensemble to give the  final touch. Desire and greed are two entities with one foraying into avarice and other having a consummate strength if it has an attribute of innocence. Success pertains to the degree of wish, and perhaps the degree of success confers to the madness of the whim. Desires too in their own class are ephemeral pertaining to their intrinsic nature. May be extraneous at some point of time, but they always conjecture to a certain possibility. It might be indulging circumlocution to a certain extent.

The one who realizes the endless possibilities of these dreams and works on his own way gets fruition. Everything doesn't work out as expected. They may exceed expectations!

Life on a Fast Lane

'Let's get it started'.. Perhaps this phrase has qualified enough to be termed as a cliche. But, let it be some other time. It's the overwhelming confusion, Ray is facing this time. The typical may be, may be not situation.


Drifting in darkness, may be it was a natural consequence of his unconscious choice which made him think of what needs to be done. Some one had told him earlier, "Listen kid, If you want to win in the future you need to be prepared to lose now." He had made the naive mistake of taking it too literally, when it had de facto a subtle inner message. You need to fight the battle first. If you lose it at first, then awaken your spirits, exorcise the demons within and fight it ab initio. It sometimes necessitates to lose a battle to win a war.


But what is the proverbial war! It is the war within self , the war of an individual in an apparently eternal quest for a segregated identity to be known as 'Ray'. To be proclaimed in life for the very reason he exists for. Does it have a role to play with the manifestation of this singular life or it is eternity he is thinking about. Never having given even a speck of thought on what he really wants to do, at twenty-something he decides to take up this matter. Didn't he give a thought to it when it mattered less or was he engulfed by this life to such an extent that he didn't really look into it as a matter of concern. Better be late than never, he says to himself. All he finds is blinding darkness within. Can it be enlightened by the flames upon which he has utter faith.


Flames! Yeah, flames. Those guiding angels which show the path when we are lost, those which make us happy at times of sheer despair and which incessantly burn within us to give us our purpose sooner or later. Ah! the mind of a man can just dart off to the subject least apropos at that time. "Oh Ray! why do you ever discount relationships as a tool to kill boredom", he quietly introspects himself. Introverted, intuitive, thinking and perceiving was he as termed by others. Some thoughts just came in and out of his mind akin to clouds which make the cuddled sky. Immature was the term used for him by his closest friends. But, sometimes irrationally held truths are more harmful than reasoned errors.


Relationships may be the greatest strength at some point in the time-line unless they are shattered when they prove to be the greatest weakness. These memories come as a bane to the exigency of the situation. Thoughts needed to be diverted to a single route without blood streaming into the veins and its subordinates. Let's now try eliminating the impossible so that whatever remains may point to the truth. It might be pointless at times, but for that very cause, we are still humans. Looking askance to the mirror on the right, he made a investigating look at the distant flustered image, which wavered with the flames.


So back to flames and their subtle vibrations, singing and ringing into the ears about matter unheard for a long long time. Flames, yes it is the very self which burns inside the conscious and the unconscious reminding us of our existence as a whole. But only when you make allegiance to them, they help you discover. Else, these sounds quickly go unheard in the vast depths of time. It is the credence in self which is at stake and it's not akin to some self-obsessed theory which emerges when self-esteem is on the run.


Ray has to live his dreams but has he got any? Oh yes, they have always been sky high. It was time to ponder upon these dreams with the an intensity which might invigorate the very purpose of this life. And the quintessential requirement is to do a logical deduction on each of the stairways to them. He took his stand, the purpose could only be defeated by reason. Is it such that everything in life is logical or has logical explanations? No, perhaps they are understood as humane.


His thoughts made him think of the eternally diabolical paradox. It always made his mind to ponder whether the thought process always foreshadows some baleful instance or not. Clairvoyance for despair made a comical sense that time.Thoughts and countless thoughts streaming through the fluted architecture of the mind had been clouding his judgement. But this time, clarity was back, his mind was more focussed and a seeming vexation was receding away in the form of gentle waves.


Time had steadily evolved to enforce a definitive decision. It was Ray's and it was only for himself. It was time to seek vengeance for the lost. The elusive suddenly became the most obvious. Like still water, clarity fought back with an audacious elegance. The voice of the flames appeared nascent and forthright, acclaiming all his virtues from within. Those which never condemn for the so called blasphemy. They heed to only higher moral reason.


Ray had already made his decision. "It is time", he quietly said to himself. Self-esteem slowly crawled up to his craving and with his credence restored, it seemed to be another belle epoch. This was his last-stand with an unshakable resolve. The radiant sun had finally dazzled.