Language of A Speeding Train

One night and half a day in train...

I have always fancied travelling in train and my best trip ever was from Cairo to Alexandria... ; though its aesthetic values were different, the Indian Railways has been in my focus especially since Lalu took charge of it – being one of the world’s largest rail networks, world’s largest commercial employer employing 1.6 million employees, and transporting 17 million passengers and 2 million tonnes of freights daily...

They are facts.... language of mind. Language of heart is different...

...there were spells of turbulent thoughts that I inherited from the days and weeks I have been here... emotions of those thoughts beating the rattling noise the crushing wheels that ran past the time and places...

That aside, I like watching rain and its effects from a moving vehicle..and view from a moving train has its special appeal... in addition to the innocent joy from the spray drops drenching my face and soaking my hands. I like watching paddy fields and palm groves...the kaleidoscopic changes it offers in every moving seconds... I like to see people from distance...the drivers with their trucks and the men and women on their bicycles or bullock-carts.... with all their joys and sorrows lifting their shoulders or shifting their eyebrows...I like to see innocent children waving ‘hi’ to these moving strangers... it’s a joy for them to ‘smile’ at these strangers in their move from one point to a destination of their own... and in our move how many of us takes that moment to wave back... perhaps if we do, that would have made their life a wee bit happier...happy in sharing to their friends that somebody waved back at them.. a ‘hi’ from someone whose life will cross theirs only that one time...that few seconds of speeding train.

I like the look in those men and women at the railway crossings or in the railway stations... some looks that are blank...staring at the horizon of life that has been drawn, erased and redrawn again only to erase and redraw in the days to come... the sketch of uncertainty reflecting in their eyes; some others have in them a look that are so deep with volumes to share but simply crushed by the wheels and noise of the moving train... there in those eyes are the twinkle of a smile....hesitantly clinging on to the eyelash... would they have released if the train didn't move?

My mind stops to wonder about the possible reasons for the exhausted postures of few others sitting on the stone benches across the stations. Will any one of them become that little news in the small box in one of the news papers tomorrow? Will any one sitting next to them feel the heavy pulse of their thoughts and be able to unlock the knots and release them to a new morning?

The train accelerates to reach its destination.... through its predefined path.... through a set time frame.... and it reaches there, with stops here and there, speeding now and then...

...the engine knew only one language... it had only one voice.

Evolution

Some times, we walk into some places we were never before, and its habitat causes a change in our lives. The streets, the vendors, the neighbourhood, the customs and the culture... the voices you hear and the noises you avoid... the words you learn and the phrases you reject... the rituals you are mused about and the rites you are amazed about....

...all having its ripple effects in your lives.

Some other times, some people walk into a capsule of time in our lives...through a kind gesture or a caring word...through an uninteted touch in words or otherwise, or an intentional embrace in a heartening look or warm smile... eventually growing beyond the radius of the time capsule they first entered and conquering the reign of heart andmind with a feeling that is special to only those who belong to each other... that special feeling of wanting to be in the presence of each other... the divine presence of someone special...

...all causing its ripple effects in our lives.

Some lives are dissolved in the changes these effects causes on them...

Some other lives evolves to an even better shape and content...

Dissolution of one is destructive and painful.

Evolution too is painful with the change of fibre and substance and the suffocation it causes deep within.

Some dissolutions are essential and its pain inevitable.

And the pain of evolution is the tax levied on us for the joy and happiness the evolved state has to offer.

Pain..even in the absence of our own shadows..it is sure to accompany us... ...in different costumes...

Time has greeted me with a garland of evolution....

The Paradox in Simplicity

Imagine....

...life is all about movement.. motion... and in that process what all we do...what all we fail to do... what all we plan to do.. the doings are undone at times in the jerks of the motion...and at times the doings are crystallized as habits and addictions.... in time the undone doings forms different shapes that defines the form and silhouette of the life that follows....

....life moves on...and in that motion pictures of other moving lives are captured...a few of them that goes into the album of memories... sunny days and rainy days takes its turns....seasons flips its pages for us to read the next and then the next... one that offers colours to eyes through the flowers it grow....the other that enrich our taste buds through the fruits it present...

...what do we need?

...and when we have that, what else do we need?

How many more mountains should we climb....how many more blisters should you have...how many more shelters should we pass by.... how many more...

Beloved...

My dearest,

I haven’t written to you in ages; the waves of voice speaking the words of love never ceased to exist in me, but to give it a shape that fits your grace and beauty is where I always failed. How less capable I am, my love, to tell you what I have always wanted to tell you in a way that it represent the beats of my heart, the pulse of my thoughts, the depth of my longing...

Every time I see anything beautiful, every time I sense anything gracious, every time I feel anything so soothing and comforting, every time I feel I am cared and loved, those are the moments, my dearest one, that I long to be with you... that I long for your presence... one that gives me the divine sensation of what heaven will be like.

Today is one such day. It might rain... and I always loved rain; I love this colour ... the silky gray veil the trees and buildings and roads and skies would wear when they know that the cousin-clouds are coming with buckets of water to pour on her...; and the cold breeze... it plays on your face like a silent symphony in your ears...

...they are all reminders of you, my love. They are the reminders of anything that’s beautiful and beloved, and what is it that is more beautiful than you, more beloved than you?

And that’s why I never think of you, day or night, summer or spring... I never think of you except when I am breathing...; and when I do think, I look at the world and smile ... for there may be many more things in her fold as beautiful... Roses and Rainbows... they may be beautiful creations of God... ; Pelicans, parrots and humming birds... they may be amazing too....; but they fail... when matched with the beauty and grace in which God so carefully made you as His gift for me to celebrate the timeless festival of love.

So are the vibrant colours of Holy, the ringing jingles of Christmas... they are all nothing but glittering jewels on your crown as you reign at the helm of my heart as my Goddess of love...

You are my beloved.

It rains in my heart with the thoughts of you in whose heart is the reign of my life....

(This is a fictitious letter.....)

The Battleground: The Curtain and The Voice

The Voice: something is not right in me... and I know what is not right... and I am unable to use an eraser... and make it right...
The Curtain: what is not rite in you?
The Voice: just one thing... it lives inside me, and it has to be buried inside me...
The Curtain: which is?
The Voice: you can only feel its ashes, if at all I manage to bury them.... ...and from the smell of its fume, perhaps you would feel....
The Curtain: bring it out... and it will lose its importance and will prick you lesser
The Voice: no. I cannot.
The Curtain: ... something pricking your conscience?
The Voice: my thoughts... my conscience...
The Curtain: keep your conscience clear as much as is possible.... post-mortem all thoughts that bother you
The Voice: I know the solution,... but it's tough and painful and needs strong discipline to execute that solution.. that's why it's bothering me....; I hold the key to happiness, and I am enslaved to the issue emotionally and therefore I am unable to use that key to unlock me.
The Curtain: get rid of your emotions.... be practical... follow instincts
The Voice: I want to. but I am unable to.
The Curtain: follow reason... be strong
The Voice: i want to get rid of this emotion... and walk like one with a stone in place of the heart.. ...but a sleep after, I get back to the folds of the emotions....
The Curtain: Use reasons... some emotions that prick your conscience are better be discarded..
The Voice: I think it will work on its own....; the more you subject it to be in fire, the more purified it will become...eventually.....
The Curtain: hope so
The Voice: one thing connects to the other thing which is yet again connected to other things that is connected elsewhere which is connected to somewhere....
The Curtain: but sometimes it’s better to get rid of the cause immediately
The Voice: I am in a constant attempt to push that aside to consciously move forward...
The Voice: ...
The Curtain: why push something... it will come back with greater force...
The Curtain: accept it and find a way to finish it
The Voice: rather, I am pushing it inside within me and it gushes out with greater force...
The Curtain: natural
The Curtain: keep your mind free
The Curtain: keep your heart free
The Curtain: all effects have causes
The Curtain: find the cause...
The Voice: I have accepted it. I know the end too. I hate the end... my mind hate the end...and my heart hate the end.... I do not want an end... they all are seeing the face of it ...and yet deny its existence...
The Curtain: destroy the cause
The Curtain: be a little cruel...to yourself
The Curtain: think of the ultimate good
The Voice: to destroy it requires me to be cruel to my own heart....
The Curtain: but then you will be happier in long run
The Curtain: take the bitter pill to get rid of the sickness
The Curtain: a little pain now will give u a peace of mind forever
The Voice: it's a source of a dream....it's the origin of a lot of imaginations....ones that are so distant from reality...; to be cruel is to clip the wings of those dreams that gives me moments of joy.... moments though it may be...
The Curtain: but it ain’t something that is pure happiness
The Curtain: and imaginations are never real
The Voice: it is not.
The Voice: it is not.
The Voice: it is not at all.
The Voice: it is a pinch of sugar followed by an ounce of acid poured straight into the centre of my heart.
The Curtain: be pure... be happier
The Curtain: be strong
The Curtain: be a little harsh
The Curtain: on yourself
The Voice: I am afraid. it's breaking me... tearing me from inside.
The Curtain: You may not like it now but you will feel relieved too soon
The Curtain: nothing should
The Curtain: no emotion is that deep
The Curtain: at least the one which is not pure
The Curtain: it’s a lure
The Curtain: enticing one
The Curtain: appealing one
The Curtain: but not true
The Curtain: all you need is a little more strength
The Curtain: a little more willpower
The Curtain: shut the door once and free yourself from it once n for all
The Voice: yes.. the courage to let go that appears as all-enticing and all-inclusive of all virtues of the world.
The Voice: I shut the door.. .but I keep standing close to the windows to have a peep through the crack to see of it more and to open the door again in very little sign of light...
The Voice: ....light as it appears...
The Voice: ...darker as it turn out to be...
The Curtain: turn your face away
The Curtain: force yourself into other activities
The Curtain: distract yourself
The Curtain: close the door n nail it down
The Voice: I am unable to.... i tried...
The Voice: I feel enslaved to it....
The Voice: purely chained to it...
The Voice: though I don’t want to...
The Curtain: be sane
The Voice: the internal battle of heart and mind is....
The Voice: 'be sane'... i keep telling me too..
The Curtain: there ain’t no attraction in this world that will chain someone forever
The Voice: you are blessed..
The Voice: you are blessed with one virtue that many wish for but only a few are privileged to have as part of their character.
The Curtain: but right now I wish you were at peace
The Voice: this may be the storm before calm...
The Voice: it's been gathering clouds for a little while...
The Curtain: hmm
The Voice: it rained too...
The Voice: but nature has its grand finale...
The Curtain: when did it start in the first place
The Voice: start is irrelevant when the end is near....
The Voice: when we write our story, an eraser can erase lines; when it's written by someone up there, he's got the eraser and the ink....to erase or to write more....
The Voice: start and the end then becomes a myth..an illusion.
The Voice: a math that we believe as mastered....but a calculation that proves us to be as infants...
The Voice: perhaps i am on the fence that divides sanity and insanity...
The Voice: but insanity too is a good state of being...
The Curtain: don’t be that emotional ever that you come to the brink of sanity and insanity
The Curtain: don’t accept something that you will regret later
The Voice: 'dont be' is a rule.... rules are man-made. Reality is not often made by design..
The Voice: did I say reality?
The Curtain: yes
The Voice: can reality be in form of sand-dunes..?
The Curtain: sand dunes too are reality
The Voice: shifting from one shape to other?
The Curtain: but you are a human being not sand dune
The Voice: ....just when you finish defining the shape and size of it.... it takes another shape and size...
The Curtain: man or his emotions should not be compared to nothing but men and other emotions
The Curtain: your emotions you deal with them directly
The Curtain: they matter just to you
The Curtain: how you react to them is what others see from a distance

.....the voice faded.... a different morning.... past is in the present busy making the future which is an illusion that appeared as real.