It was thought that the gods blew on creative people, who would then inhale the god's breath and have an idea. This is the premise of "inspiration": inhaling divine breath and ideas.
Showing posts with label ABC wednesday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ABC wednesday. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Fountain of happiness




I had a strange dream one night which shook my convictions about the perception of happiness. It was a wonderful dream, I was happy, I laughed a lot and remained in an elevated state the whole time. I knew nothing was true but I enjoyed seeing myself happy. Like a little girl, I wanted the dream to last forever. I didn't want to open my eyes. And when the day broke, I thought I would continue to remain in that cheerful mood. But I found myself to be irritated and annoyed, more than the usual days. It was a strange feeling. I kept visiting the dream in my mind, a hundred times. I tried to believe that was the truth and denied what was happening around me (inspiration from movie inception), it wasn't so.

I tried to recreate the same events as in the dream in my real world, it wasn't so. And this disappointed me and added to my annoyance. After a while I began to diagnose the trouble at hand. Why can't I be happy like I was in my dream? What brings me happiness? Why am I not happy now? I analyzed the various events which brought me happiness and the ones which angered or irritated me. First, they were all confusing but then there was a definite pattern of happiness and a definite pattern for sadness. To name a few:I am overjoyed when
  • I am around the people I love
  • I have an exhilarating conversation with interesting people
  • My efforts are recognized/encouraged  
I feel disturbed when:
  • Something does not work according to MY plan
  • I fail (at anything)
  • I get blamed for somebody's mistake
It sounds like a list of kid. I don't deny that...

I have taken my first step towards happiness. I have begun a search for the fountain of happiness... I know it's somewhere within me and not in some dream I saw/book I read/words I heard. It's not easy but one day I will succeed.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Enigmatic bard...

           No one knew who he was or where he came from... it was only now that they realized he had 'no' name. He was called 'the bard'. And that was all that people knew about him... Someone shouted to the police that 'The bard' was close to Ramu. And others confirmed this statement. The police now inquired  Ramu, the chaiwallah about this mysterious person. Ramu though hesitant and scared at first, opened up slowly to the police.

          Adjusting his shirt Ramu began a brief description about 'the bard'. 'Saab, I will tell you everything I know about him. Hope it will help you. He spoke to no one but the tourists who frequented the Taj Mahal. Lovers attracted him mostly, the young and old ones alike walking along the parks of Taj and lost in the eternal world of love. He would choose his customers very carefully calling on to the ones who inspired him.  His eyes would scan not for the rich Saab but for love, it seemed. And when he found true lovers he would run behind them, sometimes begging them. He spoke good English and many other foreign languages. He would tell the lovers "Please spend some time with me, I would like to write a poem on both of you. Your love is true, I can feel it". 'Now Saab, tell me who wouldn't want to get a poem of love written about them and that too standing in the monument of love, Taj Mahal. People never refused and paid him handsomely. Sometimes people thought he was mad and didn't pay any heed to him. Then he would start singing his poems aloud and clear. And people found his words irresistible.' The inspector realized this is going to be a long story, he ordered a stool for Ramu and made himself comfortable on the tiny easy chair. The young boys among the crowd laughed as the well built inspector struggled to settle down in the easy chair. Constables shoved them away. The crowd slowly began to get back to their lives, guides went behind tourists. Shopkeepers returned to their shops, housewives turned to their kitchens and 'the bard' slowly began to fade away in their memories. 'I want to listen to this bard's story completely' remarked the inspector. Ramu wiped away the beads of sweat formed on his forehead and looked around the bard's studio. It was a small well kept place filled with a lot of books and stationary. The smell of a strange fragrance engulfed the room, Ramu wondered what it might be. He continued the bard's story ' Saab, he lived here all alone. No family, no friends. I used to bring him dinner and lunch. He was sort of a crazy man, all the while reading and scribbling something. Rarely he drank heavily and sing songs of unknown lands and people. But he never got into fights. Many times he would not eat meals but he gave them to me. He spoke very less Saab.'

           The inspector seemed bored, he got up (struggling) and went through the possessions in the small room looking for some clues. 'Bittu, what do you make of this man's living style. Can you imagine this man is, sorry, was a millionaire?' he sighed. As he turned his eyes fell upon a photograph which was fallen on the ground. Ramu immediately recognized it 'Saab, this was taken twenty years ago. He loved this woman dearly but she married someone else he told me once.... 'No wonder he went after true love, Nazeer see what happens to people in love. You don't want to end up like this, right?' said the inspector and roared with laughter. Ramu cursed the inspector mentally and wanted to get away from him. He wondered what 'the Bard' might have thought about him if he was alive, a man who didn't believe in love... he wouldn't have cared much for the inspector.

               'Saab who would have done this to him' Ramu asked the inspector as he was leaving the room. 'Look beta, we will have to investigate the whole case and run some tests. How can I say now, it's too early. But one thing I am sure, someone would have killed him for the money. After all, your friend wasn't a pauper... see how much of cash we found in those gunny bags.' Bittu immediately added 'Saab, no cash was taken, everything is here.' The inspector grew furious 'You know better than me? Okay you become the boss' he said and walked away angrily. Ramu knew that 'the bard' was not killed for money... If there was anything that could kill him and take away his soul,  it was LOVE. But he couldn't say that to the inspector, could he?                    

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Echo...

Welcome to ABC Wednesday Round 6. A fun project, now in it's third year! If you have something to share, be it a photograph, piece of art or poetry please post in on your blog and sign up here with MckLinky. Due to time differences just post when it is convenient on Tuesday onwards.

E for Echo...

The cool breeze hit my face yet again. It seemed to play with my hair pulling it in different directions. I had given up fighting against it. My mind like my body ceased to respond. I was trying to fully absorb the ecstasy of nature, for that is my only timepass. Tall trees danced harmoniously to the song of the wind, the leaves seemed to add to the chorus with their crisp voice. I closed my eyes and continued to listen to the songs of nature...

The River flew graciously all around me. Her path remains unchanged since times immemorial. Each pebble and grain of sand on her path feel her majestic presence as she encompasses them along. Her face is bright and radiates with a composure of a Goddess. She knows the end of her journey is close as she joins the sea. The fishes and water snakes hasten to kiss her feet, and the water lilies decorate her path...

I remain silent. From the bottom of my heart I muster the courage to bid farewell to the river, no sound is heard. I fail again. My hands pass along the blades of thick grass... my ears search a voice. So that I can be a shadow for that voice, for I am Echo.