Tag: Life

Strangers

I met a few strangers

In the beginning of the year;

I met them as acquaintances

Toward the end of the year.

The second time I chanced to see them,

They were not as people I knew;

The another time I knew them

They became the past I had shared.

Wonder why I was to meet them?

Wonder why it was the first and the only?

Hard to erase the single encounter;

Hard to point out the reason.

I stopped taking account of life,

I counted the memories I re-live;

I looked upon the present,

In the moment I lived with the many.

Destiny survived my interpretation

Destined to meet those I met unknowingly;

Strangers or acquaintances I cared not to think

Purpose or reason I dared not to probe.

Yet the ones I hardly knew but met

Meant to be the part for once I chanced to meet;

The years there were many,

The faces infinite in those years….

The Quest Within

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The quest within

Continued; never willing to satiate.

Sublime my world;

Reassured my Self, honestly.

The many unspoken words

Permeated deep within;

Extinct became peripheral malady.

My soul purged

With hope, love, courage and perseverance,

Meandered into the dark:

Labyrinth gave way to light

And the quest within

Continued as the sole truth in my life.

Another Chance

She

 

She sank into depths

For she knew not what the prophesy held.

She wailed in anguish

That cut through the shallow indentation.

She submerged her dismay

And floated astride the carcass of self.

Not knowing what it said;

Whispers she heard but couldn’t decipher….

Yet her valour conquered the fears

And recoiled her strength to trust life.

Writing About Yourself?

“Write about yourself in 250 words.” A task I gave myself a couple of months ago. “Ah! This is going to be really interesting”. I exclaimed. And I sat down to write in my diary.

A few minute of “I”, “me”, “I ‘m” and I found myself completely lost for words;  the words that came by easily and took the form I gave my writing. The humour was at bay, seriousness failed to stop by, and emotions withheld from display.

It was very easy to say “I am so and so” and “I did this and that” and crack a joke at your own cost. But when deciding to write about “yourself”, I began to ponder. “Who am I?” “Am I what my achievements are?” or “Am I what people told me, who they think I am” or “Am I the person who speaks to myself when in solitude?”

I could not arrive at an answer. With every situation I was finding a different “I”. While at work the search was for an academic “I”, at home “I became truly myself”, and in a group it was I who selected an “I” that the situation demanded.

I could not believe that even when it came to writing about myself, the true self seemed apprehensive about being a story teller. It surprised me. Making a bio-data was easy but “yourself” had significance beyond the perceived.

I scribbled a few sentences as if they were my first writing assignment in life. Expressed in simple and lucid language, the complications of “I” and the frills of exaggeration gained with time were erased effortlessly.Those few sentences were indeed “who I am”.

My heart goes out to all those who pen down their true self, honestly and sincerely.