They wont see

The world is not your friend, child
It is you who are.
Don't look for them to see, child
They're off too far.
Don't wait to be in the ring, child
It will leave a scar.
Build your castle hidden, child
Build it wide and large
Include in it the world, child
but don't leave the door ajar
Miles from now you will be, child
Just wish upon that star

WYTIWYG

There are several layers to anything that is deep and meaningful. Anything with true depth is not lying there with everything that is there to it, available for vandals to rip through and see the bales flying in the wind. That which has great depth seems to be nothing, puts on no pretense, is ordinary to the senses of the world. It is to the thinking mind that it reveals itself in its true colours and attraction. It is to the thought process that it appeals. Like every other wonder of the world, it gives a choice. You either see it as it is or you see it as it appears to be. But what you see does not define it. What you see defines you.
"Its complexity is directly proportional to the time that you put into understanding it" and that makes it all the more beautiful.
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

25+56+79

Do you ever add more than 2 numbers at a time? I think that however fast you may add many numbers together, finally if you sequence your operations you may see that you ended up doing an addition of only 2 numbers at a time. Can our brain only handle so much at an instant,( how ever fleeting it may be)?

Pearl of wisdom #192

"If you don't know where you're going any road will take you there"

But if you do know where you are going...

... any road will still take you there.

Keep at it.

Tolerance dash

The problem with most of us is that we cannot accept anyone who is different from us. Leave alone accepting - we cannot tolerate differences. We claim to be individuals and think uniquely and hold ourselves supreme and beyond question. But no other man deserves to have that. No other person can bring forth his individuality and his personality, cause it disturbs us? cause we feel threatened?

The problem's solution is in the problem. If you are fragile enough to be disturbed, fragile enough to be threatened, then honestly you are nothing extraordinary. You do not deserve to feel that supremacy that you do. You cannot distinguish yourself from that which disturbs you.

People are different. By nature, by birth, by circumstance or by choice. If you are entirely what you are by choice and by nothing else then you may pass judgements as you do. But you are not. No one is. Full stop. So just quit it and go back to your work.

Some more

I come down to this page and set my hands to the board knowing that what will flow will go nowhere - it will travel up and travel down.
It is that which pervades all space.
It is that which engulfs everything in it.
It is that which will not die.
It is that which has not a purpose and not a reason.
(It is the only thing that does not, you would say. Or scoff.)
True nonsense never has any intentions, beginnings, ends.

People say the dumbest things

A poem is not a place for an idea? What a dumb thing to say. What is wrong with writing an idea in a poem? Are you telling me that a poem has to have no ideas but should just be a collection of sweet sounding words that you put a tune to? Silly.
That does not make any sense at all. When people start finding ways of communicating in something other than words all these displays of stupidity could stop.

post mortem report

He had tried all he could. But anywhere he had dug, all he could find was earth. The treasure that had been promised to him, the treasure that had tantalized him and that had taunted him was no where to be found. Some people know when to give up but not him. He had continued to believe that he could find that treasure. He had found something sometimes that shone bright from a distance. But a closer glance had shattered his hopes again. Alas! what a fool he had been. He had gone right back to dig and dirty himself with the earth that flew around at contact with his worn out spade.

What could the problem have been? His spade could have been worn out. It could be that he was too trusting. He could have been looking in the wrong places. He could have been looking for it for the wrong reasons. He might not have trusted his abilities. He might not have had a direction and order to his digging.

But then the most important question is - had there been some basis to his idea that treasure can be got only by digging?

That's enough of nonsense I guess.

Power(puff) girl

I once blabbed in a packed class that I see myself holding a position of great power and control in my life in future. I was scoffed at and the instructor gave a very sarcasm laden comment about it that I forget now (very conveniently). This was around 3 years ago. I wonder now, what it is about power that people are crazy about. Power over other human beings? Power over nature? Power over destiny and future? Power to make, break and demolish? Or simply power over myself and what happens to me. Why should anyone go after the power to influence or control other people and their happiness?
I believe the power to choose what happens to me is much more important than the power to "control" the people of the world or any other power for that matter.

Mirage

I searched for the blue sky. It takes me in every time I see it because of the way it spreads out and over and around. It sees no beginning and no end like every piece of truth that exists in this world and yet there is no bigger illusion than this image that we call the sky. That day, it had spread in every direction that I turned till the land devoured it. It was telling me that there was something that I did not know but could feel - there was something that I could believe in without seeing. It seemed as though it ended where it touched the land, but I could feel that it did not.
Today I searched for the sky. I searched for that huge play on my eyes that had me enamoured and in awe and that had held my imagination for years. I looked for it in the distance as my cramped bus moved among dusty buildings. I searched for it like a parched traveler in a desert looks for an oasis. Like a parched traveler I trudged on - up and down sand dunes and looked to see a spot of that which holds life and body together.
Then like a parched traveler I looked out the window and found something that spread out and over and around. It took me in its grip and made me believe that it was a vast expanse and a huge something that was larger than me and my world. Like a parched traveler feeling the misery of having seen a mirage that created false hopes in his mind - when the smoke cleared I saw there was no sky - only more skyscrapers that shielded the blue from my eyes.
Later, I wondered. When the blue clears will I be as disappointed?