When my silhouette left me ….

At night, as I stood at the window, looking at the vast sky, I sensed my own silhouette. And then, suddenly this silhouette started to leave my space. It started to go away. It started to expand. And piece of who I am became edge-less. There wasn’t any outline to me. Between the piece of me and the moving silhouette, was space getting created.  I am still observing what is there in that space. Suddenly the silhouette was out of my sight. It disappeared or had gone so far away that I couldn’t even sense it as a horizon.

I am still contemplating, what this whole thing was. Am I this piece, the space between the piece and silhouette or the silhouette which went on some journey leaving me this way. I wouldn’t say; leaving me alone.

I have so much more to share but I am yet here in this point where I still have to meditate over this process and understand what happened last night.

I just kept looking at the sky; wondering if the sky was just the space between me and the God’s silhouette?

‘I’ suffer from Multiple Relationship Syndrome~

Some of the symptoms that I face: 

1. Being quite because words ‘may’ hurt them

2. Would they really understand me? They anyway don’t.  And feel extremely lonely and fallen out of my own center of being

3. What will other people think? I anyway, don’t like myself. They would know this truth.

4. They are always right and better than me

5. Fear of letting the secrets being misunderstood and fear of loosing people

6. All is happening because of me

7. You don’t suffer. I deserve the most suffering in the world. More the suffering, more the pride

8. Do I know you ?

I plainly suffer from Multiple Relationship Syndrome.

Yesterday, I promised myself to be more organized and today passes by without even realizing that I committed something to my own self. How many times does it happen, that you promise something to yourself and don’t even realize you broke relationship with your self. I do not know why am I writing this post but I am only trying to understand the gaps that I have felt in all sorts of relationships. These gaps only smell of unspoken words, distorted self -image and imaginary false and wrong reality.

This post is mainly a self-reflection of what I truly suffer from. I suffer the fact that i don’t usually live the purpose i believe i am here for. I suffer from the thought processes which triggers stories in head that don’t even exist anywhere in the universe. In the stories, I meet my soul-mate,  I meet my twin souls and in reality, barely been able to recognize their presence and do something to enrich the relationship.

Few days ago, I cried realizing the stupidest thing on this planet- Love in me exist no more. I found that the fountain of love stopped working for me. I wasn’t operating from love nor was there any compassion left within. I was just functioning out of some space; just like color that rolled of an outlined picture. What phenomenon is that? I kept crying that love is no more in my life. I cannot reach to the heart of the source of love. I felt god left me and that I was completely abandoned by this world. But which world? Who in this world made me feel the way I was feeling?

Nothing but myself. I owe a lot to this self. I owe a true relationship to myself to keep the best with you . I may not understand you, but least I could do is understand my ‘selves.’

I honestly feel weird writing all this, but today, I don’t mind letting myself know, I do suffer and suffer most of the times with my own personal new diagnosis- Multiple Relationship Syndrome.. . Best I could ask for remedy is to have drops of Truthful essence. Bit of honesty leaves and some pills of compassion….I wouldn’t mind being on this medication all my life, if it brings my relationship syndrome to the center of my heart.

…more on this soon…

A Gypsy Walk ….

I’d to mention this to myself before I started writing this note.

….a gypsy halt…

I’m a gypsy.

I’m sure, with what I start writing from, you will be taken to the paths I too don’t know. Starting a Gypsy Walk

* * *

Many times, I spend time with people who live on the road. Having chai and khari biscuits. They smoke and I don’t. They live and I think. They talk of cold weather and sleeping under the blanket with little holes. And I think of why I could not live my dream today.

I often find myself walking alone on the streets; miles and miles wondering where am I actually going and why am I falling this state of nothing-ness. And then appears in front of me an old women, almost above 80 years, completely bent spine, walking slowly in the crowd. While I walk further, I saw she’d held hands of some girl and I thought probably, the girl was there to support her and make her walk. But I was so wrong. The young girl held the hands of this old one and was supported to walk safely in the crowd. The young girl was blind.

Ahhhh, my heart melted. What am I really searching? I ask; when I can see the roads, when I can maze through this crowd. Alas, my dreams leave me reckless, so often.

‘And Gypsy’, some voice from within calls me. Why don’t you stay here for long? And I have no answer. I am running and ruining. I am climbing in my on mind and falling in my own my mind. And I fall in my mind without any gravity.

‘You look so pretty. This guy is amazing for you,’ says a girl who is labeled as schizophrenic.

‘Tell me more about this person,’ I ask, wanting to know this imaginary someone.

‘He is tall and handsome. He will never leave you. You ought to be with him and he is your savior. He finds you as a true warrior but a warrior also needs a savior in heart; a source through which you can fight your war.’

I look at her. My eyes wide open. She looks in the air and says…..’Oh, well….I am mad….don’t bother yourself….but one more thing, you should eat lot of rice…to get pregnant.’

HA HA HA…that in deed made me smile.

A Gypsy cannot be a soul-mate of another Gypsy…Stop running! My mind talks to me.  You are a warrior, you see the gypsy side of people. That’s where all the wars begin….

On the road, I find many fragments of my own self. They live on the road, under the sky…and they teach and twist my random thoughts of mind…Just as it is happening here, when I am still wandering in the lanes of my gypsy mind!

 

For some reasons, I fail to be Schizophrenic ….

I, hopefully, am ready to forget myself. I am ready to have myself forget the self. Dissociative fugue, how interesting would it be. Loosing identity, erasing the memories and events from your subconscious system and settling with complete new someone. I am ready for having in me, a different self. Am I tired of this self?

YES.

A very loud YES struck my ears. This self is tired of running and chasing around the heart, when there isn’t any hope to find anything new. Images come to my mind the moment I write this.

I see my feet running around, my ears eagerly waiting to hear something phenomenal, my eyes to see something out of the world. For nose, to smell something that could mesmerize until my skin turns cold and for my buds to salivate and keep salivating. All are the signs that I don’t want this self. I am not happy to be with what I am. What I am, I don’t know yet. I don’t even feel the real existence of my soul, unless this ‘I am’ is in pain.

Is there any end to my flow of thoughts? NO. There isn’t any today.I think loud enough all that comes to me today.

God, you must be having schizophrenia too, to spill some of it on me. Or rather, you were so full with it that one day, the clouds made way for you to shower your schizophrenic presence in me.

But God, I am sorry, I fail to be Schizophrenic!!! I don’t understand you. I cannot catch up with you. I cannot catch up your prayers of hallucinations and illusions. Your illusions that- I exist and your auditory hallucinations that I speak with you everyone moment. You are mistaken my dear God. You are certainly.

I would like to be labelled as  ‘Dissociative Fugue.’ So, you don’t bother me, and I don’t bother you!!!

(….so much randomness in my thoughts today. Emotions and emotions…)

I am not the same again~

I stood at the window hearing the sound of the drops of water on the roof. The rain was falling as the clouds were moving. Wherever the clouds move- the rains will fall. There were many sounds of the water falling on different things around. The sound falling on roof was different than that falling on the earth.

….never the same again….

The sound of the drops falling on the sand was different than touching on my hands. What sound  does my life make in different here and now(s)? What sound does it make when it touches the soul of different people? What sound does it make when my own thoughts meet with different poles of myself. I am never the same again- I tell myself – A silent chaos and a peaceful mist- both meeting together and making the sound of another me.

I feel devastated and fragile and I feel up on the mountains and divine. Both at the same time and both traveling inisde the lanes of my mind showing me the destinations of love and fire and leading me to the pond of water of rains that I admire.  I am now sitting near the pond of my own different selves looking at them differently.

Alas, I am never the same again~

The Water City…

The waters went up and down the rocks. And the rocks just remained enjoying the touch of the waves just as your forehead touched by your beloved. I could see the city, city of waters in front me where lived few rocks with it. They seemed as neighbors to me- detached yet attached mesmerizing me with its orgasmic energies.

Thank you city!

I wondered, how wonderful stars looked and how wonderful did the sky with them. I wondered, how wonderful the city with lights looked and how this golden reflection of it on my face. My eyes looked for nothing and so did my heart.  I wouldn’t say it was perfect moment but a moment that stole away my soul. I was seating on the parapet, crossed legs looking up and down listening to sounds of the waves. I wish I lived between the two waves to know what they spoke to each other. I wish I could be the edges of the rock to know how it feels the touch of the waters.

I was mesmerized in short, I must say. . . I love you this water city, the rocks on the pave. . . I love you- the moment; when the touch of the wind made me live in the silence between the stars that I saw on the way!

Last night was just the waters meeting the rocks~ alone yet together~

 

…the freaking me…

Did my journey of mystics get over because I chose to be with him?

He and the mystics, why can’t they go together?

Why do I have to choose between the two and why does the mysticism stops when I choose the easy way for my life?

...where are you ....my love...my mysticism...

Mysticism is the not hard way, my dear- says the other side of me, the other self.

Mysticism is anyway with you. In your relationship, in your being and in every breath you take.

It is time, you realize that there are no two ways from which you have to choose.

There is only one way where both walk together on the same road. You are just the third traveler seeing different side of the road.

Mysticism walks between you and him.

Well said, I said to the other side of me.

Meet me tomorrow on the same road. We got to see this world together again.

Who is Who?

It’s been pretty long that I have written something. Something of essential and something that actually could share the conversations of my heart. I have been understanding since few days that the conflict was always with the heart. The mind  is not present when my heart has conversations with itself. Would rather say, with its infinite selves.I have understood that I cannot only have a heart in one thing in life. I can say this with an extension that, my heart sometimes dances across the globe in one moment- leaving my mind  run around the satin rope of desire.

...who is who....?

I read what I wrote above and smiled at this stupid circle of heart and mind. For years, I felt its all the mind, but as most of us always say- go with what the heart says- I have felt the confusions. As I write this also, I feel the contradictory statements running in me.In the afternoon, I’d been to a friend’s place and she mentioned about her state of confusion and her inability to connect her own self. While she said, what she said, I could certainly connect with the state of heart. My heart is flawless in all its mistakes, I feel. I love when it does mistakes until it misses the takes of life.  .  .I know , I know she reflected me. And that we always bump into people who reflect /represent our state.

While I choose to end this random conversation here, I see that, this heart is one but this one heart has endless frills of mind in it~

 

A Tyre under the seat~

It was blaring hot and the sun just shined too much on my skin. He was sweating too. But I am sure, he wasn’t aware that his skin was full of tears while he drove me to my workplace this afternoon. I am talking about this auto-driver.

What's the tyre under my seat of Life?

When the auto halted at the signal, he immediately got up, pulled his seat up and tried to lift the tyre which was beneath his seat and started to clean it with a piece of cloth. He cleaned the tyre generously; fast but completely engrossed in it. While I saw him do that- I was wondering, I never thought there would be a tyre under the seat. While cleaning, he just looked at me casually. He saw that I was looking at what he is doing- he said- ‘This is my lucky tyre.’

‘It is there with me past 7 years now.’

‘Once, I had a big loss, because I did not care about my auto. I used to get the thought that I should change the tyres of my auto, but I would not pay a heed to it. And suddenly, one day, the accident made me realized I should have listened to myself and change the tyres. It wouldn’t have taken me even a half a day to fix it, but my laziness and the attitude that everything is okay bought a big big disaster to my life.’

While he was showing me few marks on his hands and face due to the accident, the signal went green. He immediately kept the tyre, pulled his seat down and started to drive again. He was silent. I was silent. We just had to take the last right from the signal for my destination. I wondered all that while, how was this tyre related with that accident.

‘Madam, where do you want me to park?’ he broke my thought.

I told him to halt at the gate, looked at the meter, got off to give him the money but still wanting to know – why was the tyre there under the seat and why was it, his lucky tyre.

He looked at me while exchanging the money and said,

‘Since then this is my lucky tyre. I just keep this tyre under my seat and since then, I have never met any accident and in fact, no problem in my auto since then.’

I still did not get my answer. I kept wondering.

‘Madam, my son used to run this tyre with a stick in his hands on the road. He used to play with it, running behind it. He loved playing with this tyre. He used to run very fast behind it and I wanted him to become a racer. But, god did not want it to happen. That day, when I met that accident, my son was sitting behind to go to school….’

Again, that silent moment in my life. But a moment that just made a deep hole in the heart. It was like my heart was being nailed with those words. I could visualize a small boy running behind the tyre with the stick.

‘Okay, Madam, thank you,’ he said and went.

While I looked at the rickshaw turning and going, it had something written on it-

‘4 x 4’

 

 

I miss my path~

I am sitting in this closed room. This room that I call the Earth. And the silences are making noise. A little while ago, I traveled on the road- hocks, cars, people everywhere but nothing seemed to change and cease the fellow traveler inside me- my voice.

...understood ways...

My voice kept chasing me. When will I return to my path? It asked. In the midst of this routine, where did I loose my path? I lit incense, I chant. I read excerpts from the divine books and I meditate, yet that path calls me again. I thought, I was done. But yet not. Tantra seems to be the path for me. I agree. Restless, chaotic, miserable I feel. I renounced God few days ago and till today, I still find myself renouncing Him. My path, my way, I thought was gone. All gone. But deep down, remains its lanes.

I am in illusion. But this illusion in this moment is real. It is happening to me right now. I am delusional. And it is the truth of the moment.

I am understanding after writing this, rather falling into this endless conclusion that- Although my journey is over or seems to be over but not the path’s journey. The path remains. And one cannot reach it but be on it. Can I walk on a footpath God? Will try to remain close to the path but I am doubtful, I would even want to walk on it now.

*this note is just the state of my mind I am in. I need tea!