I saw a nightmare. The world was submerged in words. I could not breath and alphabets blocked my eyesight. No one knew when did this catastrophe of infinite words decided to plunder the essence of the human life. The only human sense alive was hearing but I overheard that people were losing that as well. Every thing was covered with words. No body and no thing were spared. Each notion of being alive became a joke. Chaos became a byproduct of excess of words and then a moment of fear followed by every sound made or heard…….
When you are planning to visit a
place for the first time, try to go alone. This does encompass going for
shopping both window (shopping) and payment counters, a remote forest or an
island, in front of the mirror and even light years away to a well settled
planet called Mars. Well, going alone makes us more open, especially if you are
a woman – I wish world was a little safer and since it is not one is advised to
be vigilant but not a sentinel. Going out alone to a place
unfamiliar keeps the mind more sensitive and hence it might be a better
exploration. Our observation would be original, our questions would be
reasonable and we would enjoy/dislike the place with our own perspective. Who
borrows sense or a map for an outing with self! Thanks to the technology of
modern man, you will always be accompanied with a cellphone or a source of
indulgence but that would dilute the whole purpose of such a wandering. Also,
never have a well prepared purpose if you are taking a break for that will
cease the possibility of challenges, surprises and a mindful conversation with
the self. Talk to yourself (words or silence, completely one’s own choice of communication)
and breathe a lot during this trail even if you enter a parking lot. Don’t be lost in the self; it is
a trip to find something or nothing. Again, sometimes, we should not be
confined in the boundaries of purpose, objectives or definitions. This is my visit to the self after a very long time
and these words are mere reflections of the route.
When I started blogging, I would spend a lot of time in finding the apt name for that blog. Eventually for the love of peculiar-name-finding I ended up making a lot of blogs - blank and unmanageable. Then I deleted them.
Such were the stupid and funny pleasures of my childhood. These must not be judged as nerdy habits but I found a corner to pretentiously portray that I can write and things around the world are affecting me. Like a sign - that I exist and if you find me here, the impression would be stronger.
Coming back to my craze about making a new blog instead of an effort to write a new post.....After finding the name which sounded intellectually bright and poetically confirming - I would quickly register and start with a nasty, grammatically poor, nostalgic post about something of and around emotions. Why emotions because this is what I value the most and this is one thing I failed to change till date.These tiny little sensations always find a way to capture and sabotage the practical side of mine. Practical side! To take part in the making of this world and to survive, I need to be practical and less sentimentalist. I juggle so often between these requests that I am mostly nowhere.
Finally, the whole purpose of this post is about the name of this blog (Poet of Minutes) which I am changing. I am changing it to . Change has never been a constant friend of humanity. (only if you could see me mock at myself)