Patterns

One essential thing to learning and discovering things for yourself, without the aid of information from work others have done before you, is to look for patterns. A pattern in the kind of feedback you get from the system will let you categorize what you see. Finding these patterns is essential to understanding the system.
This is precisely the reason why people judge others. But if you try judging others from the patterns that other people have already spotted before you , it is meaningless and not justified. You see it is only fair if you are finding patterns where you know of none. That is why people are so against judging others.
Incidentally, people who claim they do not judge are the ones who cannot stop doing that.

Don't you know?

Mundane and boring verse
That makes sense to none
except the one
who wrote it?
Trivial and trite words
that reveal nothing
to anyone?
Then for what
did she write all that trash
Or for whom did she
pour out her soul
in words here?

Star Struck

Stars are millions of miles away
There are millions of them
"I am just a speck here" they say
"So I don't matter much"

But those million stars can't see me
It is my eye that holds them
I decide whether to let them be
Or blink my eyes and be done with

So am I still just a speck here?

Are these questions?

What do you admire someone for. For what they have achieved? For what labels people have thrust upon them? For who they are? Or do you just admire them for what they are?

What do you believe in God for. Do you want to feel safe to think that some one else is there to watch over you? Do you want some one else whom you can praise for your achievements? Are you afraid of the power of your happiness? You want it to be in the safe hands of someone else?

What am I asking these questions for? Do I want to know their answers? Do I want you to think of the answers? Do I want you to share them with me? Do I want to tell you what's on my mind?

Art, Science and Einstein

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science." - Albert Einstein

This man always amazes me. I wonder how-the-hell he knew everything he did. I will keep admiration aside for now. What I have to say is neither about him and not exactly about what he means in this sentence of his.
This quote of his struck me enough to make me write it down because of one reason - the two things he mentions - true art and true science. I am just wondering aloud to all of you, correct me if I am wrong - is it not these very two things that is a common bind to all intellectuals? (I wont go into a definition of this category. I used the word not to categorize but to ensure that my readers do not start thinking of people who do not have anything to do with art and science) Isn't that all that really? Art and science - two manifestations of the mysterious. Two things that have always swayed humankind. Two things that are so different yet never against each other. In art you find deep science and in science you find magnificent art. One appeals to intelligence, the other to emotion. Both stimulate you, enthrall you, captivate you and keep you locked.
Now back to Einstein. How-the-hell did the man know all that he did. Where did he get all that.

The Sky. Again.

What colour would you give the sky
If you could change it today
I would like to give it a lovely shade
That even in flowers is rare
I would start painting right away
choosing between brushes and spray
While at it, might paint the whole town too!

The image of the new sky is in my eye
Is that a sapphire in the pouring rain?
Is that a chemical on a petridish?
What glorious colour is this that spreads
What colour is this? Has it no name?
What colour is it that my brushes gave
Wait! This colour is... again... just blue!!

Loud mouth!

She stands tall and high
She yells and screams
All around her have no choice
But to rush in before she cries

Loud shriek - ear pierce
She yells and screams
All around have no choice
But to work cupping their ears

She has fixed times - everyday
She yells and screams
All around her have no choice
But to do as she says

But in the evening when she calls
She yells and screams
All around her rejoice
It is the finally the day's fall
It is time to go home!

Mixed pictures

The cold wind sang in my ears
The sun shone bright and warm
Shade after shade of green rushed past me
Washed me with an urgent sense of calm
A storm brewed in my head
The whole world held its breath
Answer after question raged inside me
Like life defeating certain death

Creative low

She writes away
Just a play
of words
Nothing to convey
Only to give way
to collected steam
At the end of the day