Encounters with Reality

The only thing that I can tell you surely is that I won’t lie. But yet I do not know what truth is over all? I won’t lie means there will be nothing that will be told which I am not accepting with its wholeness. I do not know the future, and trying to sketch with my own efforts is so boring, as I know there is no meaning in any path I sketch for myself. And the suffocation of living absurdity is frustrating, when I sense that I can sketch whatever path I feel like sketching. I want life to be lead by someone who accepts me as I am, sees me clearer than what I can and in whom I live by my all. May be it is a dream, but yet it provides every day some hope that tomorrow will be the day when dream comes true. May be you are not the one for whom I seek, but may be we both are closest to what we are seeking. Then what should we do? Should we approximate or should we believe in long run equilibrium? I do not know, I do not decide as every decision is proved wrong in some possible future. I do...

I saw someone who looks like you. (Excitement in her voice) Hmm. (cold response) He spoke like you. Looks are similar. Even your voices are similar! (she poured more) Do you know how I exactly look? Do you know how I sound? (She was taken by this sudden philosophical looking question.) You are mad. You can speak anything, just for the sake of anything. (Silence, wait that conversation will be initialized, passive participation) I am saying what I am feeling. I seek myself through what others have to say about me. I don’t recognize myself. I cannot imagine my face. I won’t be able to describe myself if someone asks me to do so. And then I am called liar. So I plead to those who give me some signs near to my existence. I ask to carry me to my place. But no one does it. (Now silence, not even anticipation.) But then I am happy that I do not identify myself much. May be, by this fact, I can start each day waiting for this most happening event. I tried few masks, but sooner or later, they t...

You were nowhere, When I searched for you, like a lonely child in a mad city. It is fair, you were not there. It was always correct. You are not a remedy for my pains. But, dear, when spark of my senses go dim In fight to sustain myself; In a futile efforts of existing I start cheating myself; Then I truly need you dear! Your fingers should run through my hairs, My eyes should close slowly, And then you just breathe in me, In light of you being around, In warmth of your company, I should be alive once gain… But, no dear, you were not there, So will you do this? Go away, beyond everything, So distant, that even I try with all my might, You will remain, inches short. I will bring this play of meaningless existence, By stretching dimensions of sorrow, I will be alive, But at the same time, I will be emptying, Like a dying leave on the tree. As I put sorrows to life, My song will reach to an essential end note. The flood of beloved agonies, charming pains Will capture the periphery of life...