Simplywords

Change is not the only thing constant. What is constant then? I fail to express my thoughts using the right lexicon or array of words. Why? Change? I guess it's the monotonous routine of life. Some days words come so naturally like the gentle waves kissing your toes. Somedays I have to desperately search for the right words like taking a step closer to allow my feet to feel the embracing waves. Writing is a therapy. It heals you within. What is there in me to heal? We all have it common. But, healing can be so difficult at times. Emotions can run wild or tamed. I like it tamed. Good for the mind.Grin.Heart as well. Anyway, where was I? Nowhere!Words, semantics, emotions and constancy. I don't have any particular theme or idea to harp upon. I blame monotony for this, the ever-expanding void. I miss my friend. I miss our conversations. She was my first friend . What changed so much that we speak only in terms of hi and hello.Maturity.With maturity words fall short. Long calls cu...

So yesterday I visited the famous Dakhineshwar temple. The journey was serene. Winter dusk. The Ganges looked spectacular, with the setting sun slowly moving away.Different.Disappearing yet so visible. Bright and all glowing. The yellow light guides everyone home. The river had this layer of mist. I felt the chills now and then. The far-fetched boat looked relaxed. The faintly visible moon showing itself on the other side of the sky. One leaves only to be followed by someone else. So there I stood at the river 'ghat' mesmerized. What a beauty!What a spectacle!Sun to my right and moon to my left. The Sun leaves and the moon rightly stays behind. After gently touching the waters with a pranam gesture I visit the temple. The temple is historical. It is India’s 9th largest temple. I disliked the rush so much. Rush everywhere.Not a minute to be wasted. Rush for what? To allow further push and pulls. My senses cautioned me of the smell of the burning incense sticks and the warmt...

There's a song by Billie Eilish.Lovely.There's a conundrum behind the song. Heart made of glass and mind made of stone. Let's imagine the heart made of stone. I guess that's way more legit. The mind is more like glass. Memories compared to faint fingerprints. Misty car windows and you gently draw a figurine.S, heart or anything. Do memories fade? I guess they do. Just like the dewy window pane. The mist in the form of implacable time slowly covers up. Covering, forced? Na. That's how the world works. Now why I compare heart to stone? Have you ever experienced a heartbreak? It can be from anyone friend or lover. Failed expectations. It makes your chest feel so heavy. You feel an everlasting pain right at the centre of your being. The pain is like a heavy weight on your chest. You try to feel it. What's making it so heavy? You're not fine with that weight. I wonder from where the weight suddenly pops in.  You just seem so disturbed with its presence. Heartbeat...

Human beings are complex. The convoluted brain structure, the branching nerve veins, the coiled intestines are structures that hold in the complex soul. The soul is no matter. It is neither air, water or fire. Fire may be to some extent. The burning heart desires. The shivering caused when faced with rejection. The fire lights and dies. There are days when the conversation with a known face becomes difficult. The known face builds up a wall of the complex. In and out.A great wall of distance. The individual puts on a mask as if things are fine."Hey!I'm good. What about you?"Well, the words can be slippery and deceptive. It manages to hide the tension well enough but a close friend can very well understand things are not fine. But, there's a catch. We don't take the effort of asking him/her again. Okay? No, we don't. Instead, we ignore the fact and conversation falls short. The gap generates. The gap personates the wall. Out and out. It's like a distance yo...

Let me ask my readers how do you begin something? You just drop in or practice the act in your mind. Mind the centre of darkness and light. Yesterday night I thought of writing.Retelling.But I found my words too geometric. I was trying to appease the need to express my feelings. It was blunt.Shame.What shame? I read it somewhere that writing is good for mental health. So when I sit down to write does it involve willpower or anything associated. A medical prescription.Five pages of writing. I once chanced upon this article. Writing is like energy transmission. Newton is after all celebrated for his famous declaration "energy can neither be created nor destroyed." So words are units of energy? Zilch. When a man decides to write something does that mean he has the structure already in his mind? The content.The outcome. How does variations occur then? I have lost the habit of writing. I used to write a journal jotting down my thoughts and jargon of experience. But it's like...