Imperfect depths

Is it intense dwelling into the extremity of emotion and attachment that results in these entirely opposite swings of detachment so much to the level that united souls become objectified memories of one dimensions. Or maybe the minds evolve. Presence in so called structures is not required anymore. There is that close a proximity that develops that even those dark beauty spots of moon suddenly seem gross dark ditches to detest and consider that beloved moon as ordinary and no more an obsession?
But isn't that imperfectness itself that makes it beautiful and what it is? Doesn't all those notions that we see as lack define those objects that we so brutally criticize, synthesize or butcher as required?
A friend said, 'Imagine how beautiful the moon will be without its spots. Just that we have nothing else to measure its partial beauty. We have no spotless Utopian moon. and that's why the only available object becomes that obsessive'. I wonder, isn't it basic human nature - to never be satisfied. To always look for some Utopian perfectness. To find at least one fault in any demise.
and probably that's what makes us move - from object to object, spots to places, emotions to expressions followed by a deep silence of chaotic layers around. The layers that rise up like waves in a stormy sea and those shores to bring those happy breezy beach evenings. The pendulum keeps tolling those waves from joy to grief, from storms to peace. But then there is that calm sea, holding in its depths those centuries - of moments of unison at different places, in different times.
I wonder, whats the end of this journey? Budha's realization to be a part of world and help others evolve from the same circle? But whats the purpose of life in that case? Only to realize the futility of it and aim to return to the same state we were in before? Cool we call it experienced or evolved state... Say after few births we learn so many things our souls were supposed to - but whats the point of it all? If the start point of the race ends at the same point?
Isn't that circle too immensely attached to our very existence? Are we not fooling ourselves in some mythical competitions, races of success and failure. Some even claim to be equal and same - at the realm of so many categories of species, bodies .. even souls... or how about ' energies'.
To a large part, I will agree with this definition that we are all energies - deeply influenced with laws of gravity, playing upon some universal strategies - but aren't all these definitions mere convincing tacts or toys given to that immature mind of ours which needs atleast some basic definition to register things and life around.
Not that I am that keen on leaving my life or the pleasures in it just to know the reason of it.... as I feel its disrespecting the fact that I am alive. I would rather live it to the fullest to realize why I was alive. and yet, the questions are eternal webbed in that beautifully crafted web of language so inadequate to express what is felt.
Which makes me wonder how I criticize Language same like someone criticizes moon with its own set of imperfections. Guess, that's how we are built. To always keep traveling closer and deeper to our obsessions only to love them so much that you begin to detest that love. and yet, evolve with that deep feeling of understanding which is beyond all feelings of love hate or expressions pending.

Written by - Mystical Wanderer

Hidden beneath

Craving to talk with someone own

Someone from world of my own

Some far away distant one

Someone from my city

From the same sun

Craving to dance on my own terrace

Below that moon, silver caress

Its been a long time

I met my moon

Been a long time

I danced on mid night tune

World is too bright here

Or maybe too dark

Who knows the difference

Its always grey – up-stark

Suddenly I have grown

Or that is what was required

For me to grow up

be adaptive, be acquired

here I am, the corporate me

with the same wild spirit

hidden beneath

but I feel bounded at times

following that stupid clock

staying in bound

How beautiful it was

To live in abstract

Where time had no entity

Boundations were on abstract

I am free yes

Free of any judgments

This is what I ensured

Freedom from life of rent

But then everything has its cost

Nothing is free

Even freedom has its own cost

You miss your loved ones at times

You miss your own city’s rhymes

You crave to go back

But that is expensive too

At the cost of your freedom

Nothing comes in lieu

Am I free in real – I wonder

True I escaped many thunders

But now what?

A stupid clock?

Trying to bound me to some schedule.

The duty’s call.

Fie to that duty

That feeds someone’s greed

Fie to that duty which satisfies

None’s needs.

Alas! the world is so designed.

Everyone eats others.

That’s how they fill their greed.

‘If you can’t follow social norms

Its better you go wild in forest grounds’

Sure I would love it much better

I will live in peace – in nature

But then I become a part of another cycle

Biological it is called

The greed or need cycle

Not that I am afraid

But its everywhere

The race.

I don’t like it.

This competing at every step.

I can’t fake it.

Something not in my nest.

And I still need people.

I am human.

I realized.

I can’t stay away from society

To my surprise.

And there goes on the cycle of my life

Society nature

Death and life

Home – travel

Mystical flight

Aah! it goes on

The circle of life

No end, No beginning

Love and hate

Promises and hint.

And then there are masks around

You can’t make out the right sound.

You yell you fight

Fuse all bright

Then follows silence

You enter a shell

And then you realize

Its waste the fight

So there you decide

To sing with all your might

And you smile

Like a child

Deep inside

You pamper – being wild.

Written by - Mystical Wanderer

बालू जानती है बहुत कुछ

इक मुद्दत हुई तुमसे गुफ्तगू किये
तुम्हे देखे तुम्हे छुए
शायद वक़्त बदल गया
रह गया बहुत कुछ
अनकहा अनसुना

तुम्हे बहुत कुछ कहना है
वक़्त के साथ फिरसे
तुम्हारे साथ बहना है
बालू सा फिसल गया
वक़्त हमारे हाथ से
जी लिया कुर्बान किया
सब कुछ आप पे
पर फिर भी ये पल
है कुछ अधूरा
शायद रह गया बीता पल
कुछ अधूरा
फिर भी पूरा

हम खुदगर्ज़ थे
तुम भी
और मैं भी
हम बेदर्द थे
खुद के लिए
और एक दूसरे के लिए

कभी हर पल हर सांस
इक साथ जिया करते थे
मुद्दत से अब तक
जाने कैसे जिया करते थे
तुम नहीं हो साथ मेरे
मै नहीं हूँ साथ तुम्हारे
पर फिर भी हम अस्तित्व रखते हैं
तुम और हम आज भी
साथ जिया करते हैं

हर सांस जो हम दिल से लिया करते हैं
हर ख़ुशी हर गम में
हम हमें याद करते हैं
साथ नहीं तो क्या
गर पास नहीं तो क्या
हर वादी हर नदी
हर लहर में तुमसे मिलते हैं
समुन्दर के शोर में
हम तुमसे बातें करते हैं

कभी उसी बालू पर
हम खेल करते थे
आँखों से गुफ्तगू करते
हम रट हम हस्ते थे
वह बारिश की कीचड हमें आज भी याद है
वह चाँद से हमारा रिश्ता
आज भी साथ है
वो बड़ी बड़ी आँखें
वह खट्टी मीठी बातें
वह हसना वह गाना
वह रोना वो चिल्लाना
बालू जानती है बहुत कुछ
बालू आज भी वहीँ है
ले कर सब कुछ
बस वह मुठी में नहीं
अब वक़्त हमारे बस में नहीं

इक मुद्दत हुई तुमसे गुफ्तगू किये
तुम्हे देखे तुम्हे छुए
शायद वक़्त बदल गया
रह गया बहुत कुछ
अनकहा अनसुना

 - सुरभि रोहरा