Rambling Ragas-2

Needless to say every journey is fascinating. And orkutting was one of those journeys.

I sometimes tend to pamper myself by thinking that; I possess a marvellous talent of the art of wondering at every small thing in life which come across my way! Be it, changing dynamics of relationships, fluctuating mindsets, inconsistent loyalties or even fountains of love showered upon my being from unexpected quarters. Ain’t they small things considering their far too common occurrence? I even wonder how come I am not untouched by these miniscule events?
The logic says because of my living in such society!

What society? The society, whose inception has always been doubtful? A society where the ignorant reign? A society, whose basic premises stipulate that, enlightened must hold their tongues? A society whose policy deciders, must profess half-hearted dedication to a primeval allegory or face the catastrophic consequences of speaking their true mind?

Well, I can go on but I wonder, again, of its relevance!
In the inner world, Lunatic fantasy paves way for a much mellowed down rambling ragas, bereft of ethereal elements of my existence like, arrogance, insanity and anger. Should it be named Neurotic’s Notebook rather than getting lost in the mumble-jumble of ragas of ruptured ramblings?

But why mellowed down version? Have I changed? May be. May be not. Does not matter actually. We all change, everyday. Some by choice, some by chance. It’s quite easy to stick to certain set of people, certain patterns of emotions, a particular cigarette brand, Hayward’s or kingfisher strong beer and last but not the least writing in a certain way. Because all these “certain” things helped me in getting relationships, recognition, adulation, identity, attachment etc but then the moment I think of that I find myself chained up to these certain things. And that’s when I find myself deteriorating, every second of my existence. It’s easy to be stereotyped and it’s uncomfortable to experiment.

Choice was mine. I guess, I am fulfilling my 2nd biggest birth right after freedom! Experimentation! Yeah, I wrote that right!

Move again. Don’t get fixated on one particular thought. Creativity is always fragmented. So am I. so is this rhythmic rabble!

And when I think of movement and rhythm, I think of sea-shore. I would love to spend an evening on beach with mild breeze caressing my soul. There, at that very place, one can feel the smell of unhindered freedom which is right there, for the taking. Go, snatch it. Feel blessed. Or even better, bow to the dying sun, to its vermillion aura and its promise of coming again, tomorrow! Feel like touching that blue/green water! Yes, we love sea. We love sea-shore. We love its purity and enormity. We love its strength. And all that despite knowing that the sea's only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong??

Guess, I am not too knowledgeable about sea except knowing few myths of sea-monsters, mermaids, Bermuda triangle, and trade routes etc etc. but I do know that precisely that’s the way it is here. It always has been. I don’t know swimming but I like to find myself at least once, to measure myself at least once in those harsh blows of sea. Isn’t it exciting to imagine, I am standing in the most ancient of human conditions, all alone, facing blind and I don’t have any weapons/instruments at my disposal except my own hands and my own head with a heart of gold! My! I am being so greedy! I have always been!