Vaani

Pain.  Let the pain meet your zeal.  Work. Let the work meet your passion.  Love.  Let the love meet your strength.  Truth. Let your truth meet your faith. Let the roads zeal,passion,strength,faith Harmonize. Then these symphonies would harvest.

Fire inside.   The burn is real.  It's like passion.  It's about unsatisfaction.  Inner voice is left unexpressed.  Left in a box with a tight lid Waiting to get out and to be heard.  Do I quench the zeal?  Bring down the fire with water? Or let it ignite until gold pours out?  Embers  Fire inside.  Burn is real.

It's okay to not embellish everything. The way things are at times- unfinished , unpolished.  There lies beauty in it.  Like an uncolored mud pot . or like a monochrome hand woven sweater by your aunt or grandpa. Be blunt with words. Uttering what is on your mind. Not rude or aggressive, be raw-voice out.  May be try not have a blob of makeup every time you click a picture which disguises the real you. If you are someone like me , who relishes food  by eating with hand -do that . Ditch spoons and forks.  It's okay to be organic.  It's okay to be simple.  It's okay to be you.  Be you. 

We have a tendency to forget about random moments , quirky incidents , unanticipated encounters with strangers that make us smile. All we have to do it, remember, recall and relive those joyful moments once again.  a baby's chuckle, a good workout  session, grandpa's dance at a wedding, piping hot  coffee on a rainy day, puppy following you on a street, a phone call from a long lost friend,  an impromptu family dinner,  bud on a plant, satisfying siesta at noon, a hug from a relative  , massage from mommy, a compliment from a stranger at a store, your favorite song playing on loop in an auto, souvenirs from childhood, a lazy Sunday in pyjamas-binge watching ... We wait for the big"occasions" to make our lives perfect, and sadly forget that the little nothings are significant not trivial, more than we give credit for. The little nothings. 

Not all shoes fit us well. Few bite . Few don't.  You will learn - that not all the shoes fit us well. That not all cities were meant to be your home. It was just a temporary abode for you. That people come and go. That there  are rough terrains , rocky hills, sharp turns on the road.  It is for you and me to assess how to tread .  You will learn that not every broken vase can be put back together.  Not every meal is scrumptious.  From the people you have met, mountains you have been to , music you have heard, story sessions you have been to, you have created good stories and not so good ones. The crux is to brew the not so permanent tales. Not all shoes fit us well. 

She thought. He listened. Minds mingled. And so, the conversation began. -------------------------------------- I follow the imprints you leave behind the imprints of your thoughts.  I thread. I sail in the ocean of your memories.  Memories of you and me. I sail. I embark - I aviate with my wings open in the clouds of your remembrances. -------------------------------------- His breath is my Xanadu.  My hearth, perhaps.  I walk with him.  I walk the deasil with him   He may be dormant. But my heart is filled with amour. -------------------------------------- How was your date?  Scintillating, I said.  We lay down and watched the sky. Gazed at the stars.  Well, She did.   I gazed at her" #mydate -------------------------------------- She smiled. He simpered. They knew the difference between the two. Another story began. -------------------------------------- She pou...