The sounds, whole day, double. Phone calls, email pings, more phone calls, stories that old people like to tell, I listen, keep listening. Then a sudden wave of irritation, and I know what I need. Silence. Nature. Wordless Music. The cool evening breeze welcomes me as I step into the balcony. So do the low… Continue reading The antidote to too much peopling
Late night, coming across the music of Pearl Jam’s Present Tense song, and melancholia.. Cooped up in her room, she felt like a caged bird. Outside, there was beautiful Nature, wild freedom.. at least, the illusion of freedom, the beauty of the world that her senses had tasted. She longed for the mountains, the rivers… Continue reading Wild Freedom
The struggle persisted because I lamely believedthat I ought to accept it,so my heart struggled on and onwithinbut maybe, just maybe,I don't need to accept itso I stop strugglingonly to find thatyou still love me anyways. ~ ~ ~ ~ Sunlight with shadows of grass on a dry leaf. Photo by Aditi Premankit
There are deaths, and then there are deaths from the attack. You tell yourself not to get involved, but you're too deep in the quicksand, deeply affected, can't undo what you saw, can't erase what you feel. You dream about the war, being there in the smoke, it's a never-ending zone. If you spoke those… Continue reading No title, no war.
Keep your eyes open and reality. Keep your eyes close and imaginations and dreams. The real world terrifies me with its callousness with its misinterpretations of each other’s intentions. Every single person wants happiness. And yet, and yet.. where is the effort? where is the trying for it? Instant happiness. Does that even exist? But… Continue reading Start being happy
How do you breathe? How do you put your clothes on? How do you go on and on? What is there to do? Nothing and nothing. You go on with your life as if death isn’t in the surroundings as if flowers aren’t being crushed every day. You stare at screens and read some books.… Continue reading Don’t ask the sleeping people
Social media has created a havoc! Unconsciously clicking likes and watching stories, looking at some random profile on Instagram when you suddenly realize ‘what the heck am i doing!’ There’s a vast inner world within you, and yet, you keep looking outside, living outside, instead of within. instead of working on blurring the boundaries between… Continue reading Ten rounds around the sun
Minds are fascinating,they pull memories weirdlyrandomlyand attached with themare the emotional files,coloured and uncoloured,some categorised, someunsorted.. Minds linked to the body,makes the whole thing shakeat the tiniest memoryfusedwith rage, with grief,with joy, with sweetness. Some memories are lockedin a special box,only to be opened inthe midst of self-pity,and bouts of wallowingin guilt or regrets. One… Continue reading Memories in a box
Day after day, you watch the Sun rise every morning, you watch the Sun set every evening. Today, as it was hiding behind the clouds, you wondered, ‘Does it never tire of going on the same path? same routine? Rising and setting like clockwork. The ancient sundials and clocks were made based on Sun’s movements.… Continue reading Who invented the word Routine?
When there is a resistance within for situations, for traditional things, what do you do? Do you rebel or do you accept? It doesn’t matter how you take that resistance and what you do with it. The heavy clouds rain. The butterfly pushes its wings from the cocoon. The waves crash on the rocks. The… Continue reading The heavy clouds rain
The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places,… Continue reading One Art – Poem by Elizabeth Bishop
It had rained, and the sun was out from behind the clouds. I searched for the rainbow, didn’t find it, instead looked at the faraway clouds, their whiteness and darkness mixed up in greys. I turned my head and there it was, the lonely illusion, a rainbow. I stared at it, identifying the colours visible… Continue reading Fleeting rainbows
I’ve been afraid of fame, for a long time now. Of people knowing my name. I like being in the shadows, I’ve stayed anonymous on the internet and loved it. Today, reading a poem by Hafiz led me to thinking. Where is ‘me’, where is Aditi? It’s just a name, a vehicle to be known… Continue reading Where is ‘me’?
https://youtu.be/rQBn90M9ixo Where have you been searching for me, my friend? I am right here.. I am not in a statue, I am not in a holy place; I am not in a silent shrine either, Neither am I in a temple, nor in a mosque.. Neither the Kaaba, nor the Kailash.. Where have you been… Continue reading Where have you been searching?
But if you could for a time wipe out all the poets and all their poetry from the world, then you would soon discover, by their very absence, where the men of action got their energy from, and who really supplied the life-sap to their harvest-field. It is not those who have plunged deep down… Continue reading What if you could wipe out all the poets and their poetry?
"O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish; Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d; Of the poor results… Continue reading The question recurring – Poem
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?I have no idea.. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,And I intend to end up there.. This drunkenness began in some other… Continue reading My soul is from elsewhere – Rumi poem