SHAJ

Thought of the day

Better to know a few things which are good and necessary than many things which are useless and mediocre.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson belonged to the school of transcendentalism which believed in independence of the self, from all that is bounded or indoctrinated.

I was having a hard time today, channelling my negativity to its origin. And this came as a much needed wisdom for the day. An unknown frustration kept engulfing my sanest thoughts and everything seemed very dark, perhaps even meaningless. I don’t want to be ashamed of admitting how I have been obsessing over the meaning of life for a while now. Most times I would even blame people, situations, ‘the cage I have made for myself’ – for these sporadic bouts of restlessness.

In times like these, I surrender to the know-alls of this universe and feed on their thoughts by reading about their lives- in a hope to somewhere connect with mine. Over the time, it has taken a lot of conscious effort to not delve into them more than I am capable of. That includes films for me, where I end up living the character and his/her decisions if they even remotely reflect on my experiences of life. That thought too deserves this beautiful quote by Arthur Schopenhauer (who spoke about “the will to do something” as not being under the conscious control of man):

A constant flow of thoughts expressed by other people can stop and deaden your own thought and your own initiative…. That is why constant learning softens your brain…. Stopping the creation of your own thoughts to give room for the thoughts from other books reminds me of Shakespeare’s remark about his contemporaries who sold their land in order to see other countries.

Schopenhauer used to say that The world is my representation where “Man can indeed do what he wants, but he cannot will what he wants”. I find it very interesting, because our thoughts are channelled by any void in time and space. That void could feel full or empty, brimmed or scarce. And our mind’s energy start to channel from these thoughts of a particular moment, which soon reflect on our actions.

So, maybe it is not our thoughts that we can completely control. But rather, the knowledge that made them. Hence, the (full) quote of the day. I repeat:

Better to know a few things which are good and necessary than many things which are useless and mediocre.

What a great treasure can be hidden in a small, selected library! A company of the wisest and the most deserving people from all the civilized countries of the world, for thousands of years, can make the results of their studies and their wisdom available to us. The thought which they might not even reveal to their best friends is written here in clear words for us, people from another century. Yes, we should be grateful for the best books, for the best spiritual achievements in our lives.

I sure feel grateful.

Thought of the day

Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness

~ Bertrand Russell was a mathematician, philosopher, historian and a social critic who talked about uncertainty, education and criticism with ‘eccentricity’. This extract is from his book ‘The conquest of happiness’.

Thought of the day

We must only look back to see what has become of ourselves – today.

A new day

There I go,
struggling with my pen.
Trying to tell the same old story
perhaps in a different way again.

There is no hidden agenda
to prove my love
Here is my submission
You can leave it on the table if you must.

This is my own reflection,
my love for you.
It does not wear out over time.
But burns out of its own stride,
every single day,
like lightening in its blaze.
Only to relive this madness called love, again.

So, do as you must,
as I will stress no more.
Accept nature’s call for the storm
with arms wide open at the door.
Its a new day today
so I won’t spend it,
being afraid of the dark ahead.

To love

What day is it?
What time of the year?
Has it been a while?
Or a bit too early?
You see,
My mind is on its rounds again.

Of course its about you,
from head to foot.
Kiss me deeply and read my soul,
if you must.
Dig me harder, make a hole,
your own, if you must.

I wonder what our story must be like,
I wonder so, when I see your face in my mind.
Our bodies entwined,
our heartbeats singing a lullaby.
As our hands explore all crevice,
those intimate flaws – for more every time.

Will it be a tale of lovers,
breathing in each others arms
as death takes the final call.
Or will it be a tale of lovers,
who once had to cross paths,
to know what it meant to fall.

I take a stroll then.
Thinking of all I have read, seen and felt.

I sit on the perch,
with half a door closed,
letting my mind fly again.
And I think of you.
Your innocent soul behind those assuring eyes.
The warmth of your hands,
that loves all that it touches.
Your full lips,
fitting so perfectly onto mine.
Oh, I see you glowing,
like lovers shine.

And my mind,
flew back to the perch
Beneath the door half closed
I looked down
and there it was.
My heart – all yours.

I am not your hero

I am not your hero
Can’t you see?
Or have you shut your eyes too?
Can’t you see the weakness in my knees?
Or have you looked away from those closed doors?
What you call – this passion,
this fury of youth.
Are just fantasies
of a world I do not know.

I am not your hero.
I am just freshly sculpted.
I look radiant,
because I was just decorated.
The fire in my eyes, so comforting,
looks like hope to you.
But I am still made of mud,
I harden only to crumble.

You have known my strength
like no man ever could
You have embraced my weakness
like its worth to you.
But, I am not your hero.

You put me up on a spot so high
Can’t you see am scared of heights?
Its not the falling that makes me anxious,
Its the letting go of you, that does.
So, No. I am not your hero.
Because I love so stupidly.
And if there were other ways to do so,
I would still love you this madly.
Can’t you see I am weak?
Hopelessly stabbing myself
with the knife I made.
Tearing myself out
from the wounds I saved.

Trust me,
I am not your hero.
My passion is only my fuel.
It will wear out someday.
My ideas might look like spring
but winter will soon be on its way.

No, I am not pessimistic.
I might believe in utopia
but I am not a unrealist.
Cos, I am not the wall you look for support,
I am such a sponge underneath.
I am not the belief you think I am,
That’s just yours reflecting on a mirror beneath
these array of aspirations
and dreams of you, of all you could and could not be.

I am not your hero, love..
Can you see it now?
So, please do not love me
for who I am not.
And later wonder
what went wrong.
I am not your hero.
No, I am not your hero..

To, the lovers

No matter what we believe our life could be
No matter how carefully we tread
for odds to be on our side of the court.
No matter what we do.
There will always be twists unexpected,
waiting carefully, camouflaged at the door.

So, here is a little advice
for the lovers gone insane.
With hearts made of glass
and now brimming with pain.
I beg you to look ahead
and not close the door yet.
‘cos no matter how much we play safe,
it could be a room full of regret.

And no matter what the light outside says,
coming home might be all that’s left to stay.

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