GARDEN OF WORDS AND WORLDS

When silence hits everything seems mysterious. Silent one wants to disappear in the mystery of which there shouldn't be an answer, since the answer spoils  the gloomy freshness of mystery at hand. Being a question forever gives the power to get lost and there is no burden of me and mine!  

It always has to be a harmony no matter what the cause, what the consequence! It's harmony that is perfect; it's harmony that receives; it's harmony that allows; it's harmony that blocks. If it's out of the box it is alien. The mark hasn't been hit. Flower has still not bloomed!

  In the end, it's all a breeze. Breeze of serenity, breeze of rest. Be it glory of GRACE or a painfully lost race, when it's over, it's over; not a glimpse remains. Just those memories, nasty binding ones. Even in relaxation of death pain of nostalgia is felt. Pain which itself is pleasure masked. Stealing some tears and silent smiles it makes a bridge for us. To cross for once and have a last glance. Glance to events that made us, glance to people who partnered with us, glance to places which witnessed our role, glance to roles that seemed so real! Before we cross back, let the last string be broken and placed that side to which it belongs. That caused us cross the bridge, that caused the bridge itself, that gave us a chance to revisit the lost! That which stops the movement ahead with gentle hands and staring eyes, grateful  heart and clear head. O my friend, I say goodbye. I yielded to you setting my will aside; now, I request you to stay and be at your side.

  When you leave this world, it will be a sad moment. World which became mother, world which became father and all other. To leave it ever is too soon, whenever? When you leave, I will not know. When you leave, the heart might ache a little! We never met properly but we walked the same soil, breathed the same  breeze, smiled at same sky. You see? We lived in same home for decades! It's the end now, though. What to do but feel gloomy. Do the ends feel this way always? why?

  How hard it is to laugh! Even when the joke is heard, understood instantaneously, the giggle is restricted. By WHAT? The barrier is visible and so hard to break, to climb and land behind. But WHY? What invisible force holds my arms, legs and robes. It seems so frail and weak, as much as easy to break with a flick of one's finger. Just a stare to burn the shackles, although, so mighty as much as to keep the one enchained for ages and ages to come. It seems to be at order of mine, but with a mind of its own to dice the game as such and encage the liberty that's me.

  In the dead of night  Here, I am! Amidst the voices that sigh Here, I am! That life which sleeps around The blankets that become the shroud With all in sight and hear Here, I am! In wait for sleep to churn Or life that dances to burn In quite of me, myself I rest the pen to learn ..............or UNLEARN