Updated: Dec 22, 2019


Love, empathy, kindness, strength, is perhaps the ingredient, for being benevolent. Convoluted, vain, psychotic and degenerate, are the paths that seldom follow, unless you unconsciously cerebrate. Practise it in nimiety, and it will not end. Hold it back, and the river will twist and bend. Seek it within first, universe will surely confirm. Seek outside if you must, but be ready to realise, the ‘clever’ ways in which, the universe breaks, the poetry of life. To be fair, All you need is one, overflowing over the edges. Dig deeper , pain could be fun, why not play with matches? You can’t choose your role, but sure can make it your own. 4 ages, 4 years, 4 days, it takes a toll,

have gumption to embrace the unknown. Let’s call it superposition, spinning the tale out of jurisdiction; of time and space, dream and dreams. Between two hand animals, story finds its way. The wind dances, as the trees sway.

Rains and forest fires alike,

bring the dance to light. And I reach out to touch, while it’s touched me all along. The story, told through whispers, hymns at temple, song about a song. Truth be told, even though it may be old; to have a reason, all you need is... T 


It may be meaningless, or useless at best; to be a witness, or a catalyst worse still. But I would be there, or like to be aware at the very least, as and when the religions, ideologies, civility, languages, human nature, life and death, transmogrify. This cannot be stopped, as bleak as it may be, but the humour in it, is hopefully worth it, don’t you agree? I’ll do my part, you will do yours, but the tide will rise, and consume it all. Reset button of a failing simulation, is primed and ready for termination. Stop counting losses, greed is clearly futile, find strength in those wings, no grace in keeping them fragile. Death is what we often glorify, beauty is in survival too, so gather your wits, and fly. T 

#musings #prose #transmogrify #existence #transform #transmutate

Updated: Jan 12, 2020


All it takes is a moment, for that to reveal, what is hidden from lucubrations. And yet the road is steep, paved with tragedies, cemented by hope. And yet the flowers bloom, in the times of spring; balancing butterflies on their petals, so they can meet again. And yet it must be lived through, absurd as it may seem, the journey. And yet it reveals, when it does, all it takes is a moment. T 

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​तरुण