Abstractions ...

It has increasingly become clear of late, that I’ve somehow assumed all along that abstractions take away from the revelation of what is real and what is but the entire truth. And today I feel that I may have been very wrong in thinking that. Which is what makes me admit that it was possibly just an assumption after all. Yes, abstractions certainly help mask the underlying truth to a fair or even a great extent, but the fact as such, that we seek to mask, remains, as is. For nothing can take away from what is actually real and the absolute truth. And although there seems to be a certain level of security in seeking refuge behind a façade of abstraction, the question that resurfaces time and again is – why does one really need to mask the truth under a pile of cleverly crafted sentences? Is it because we are afraid that acceptance of the truth, as is, may not really be forthcoming? Or is it because, somewhere at the back of our minds we still seek the approval of oh so many ?! How does it really matter at the end of the day, how many people really accept you for who and what you really are ? In your time of need, in that hour of raw, vulnerable desperation, where were all these people hiding, those whose nods of explicit approval seem to suddenly matter in a business that is very clearly none of theirs? The more I think of it now, the more foolish or even wasted all the effort put into making things abstract really seems. And the only comfort and satisfaction that I can take away from all this is that, despite the varied degrees of abstraction, there was sincerity in every worded-emotion and a world of genuine heartfelt feelings and thoughts, still expressed. And the very fact that this piece in itself is so abstract goes to prove that the bull is still hard to confront by it’s horns. Who knows how long it will take before all of this can be revealed in clear and lucid terms, terms that the world at large will understand with just a mere glance?. For clearly, the complexities that constitute the individual that each one of us is, is not something that can be unraveled, addressed, sorted and put aside in a day, a week, a year or may be even in a decade.  And even as we discuss this, albeit in abstract terms, the audience to this may dwindle in number but the individuality that remains steadfast and self-assured in its own right, shall never diminish in intensity or fade away. It shall always exist in the form and of the nature it was truly meant to be.  A candle can be put out by a gust of strong wind, but the darkness that it once dispelled cannot be denied. So it is with us beings, be it you or me. Our words, thoughts or actions, even our very mortal frames can be put out and silenced, but the individuality that defined the impact we had on the world around us can never be denied. And with this, I shall put to rest any conflict that may have risen in my mind as regards the ongoing game of abstractions.

Basking in the here and now!

You stopped and turned to look in my direction and I wasn’t even sure it was me you were looking at,

All of me wanted to believe that it was indeed me, that your eyes longed to behold, your fingers wanted to caress and arms wanted to hold,

But then again I couldn’t be too sure; I didn’t know what to believe in anymore.

For how else could I explain all that was happening to me?

Just when I thought it was all over, and that I’d come up against a closed door.

But then you had your own mysterious ways and you turned things around

For left just to me, I’d have crumbled to the ground

You lifted my spirits, my hopes, my very soul.

And once again there was sunshine in my lackluster world, once again I was whole.

As days go by, I can’t help but dread that this too shall pass someday

And that all good things may well come to an end

But I fight hard to focus and put those thoughts at bay

For it’s not just about a tomorrow that may never come but about savoring all I’ve got today.

An Ode to Mirijana

Memories return but they’re just flashes
All vivid like yesterday but still…
I turn to hold you and stumble into sheer emptiness
Grabbing desperately onto nothingness I plunge against my will
And once again my whole world crashes.

Mirijana come to me, I know you can hear my song
Doesn’t matter how great the distance between us
Heed not the time that’s gone
All we need is to find each other
For together is where we belong!

A lifetime can change a lot for mankind
But let not one go by with the two of us apart
Put aside the fears that may plague your mind
And just follow the call of your heart.

For I sit and wait for you, my Mirijana
Each day from dawn to dusk
Longing and pining for the love I’ve lost.
Wishing that somehow you would seek me out again
And help me reclaim my distant past

But time only ticks away as absolute stillness surrounds me
And loneliness only grows with each passing day
But something inside me tells me
That we’ll find one another, somehow, someday, someway.

Of Visions and Missions or of Love and Longing..... Or of Life Itself

 Along the shores in the pale moonlight, the slender silhouette of a woman walks slowly and seemingly endlessly until the colossal shadow of a ship emerges over the horizon. As the ship moves closer and the shores become visible to those on board, she stops and turns to face the dark waters beyond the sandy beach. And then she throws a silent, expressionless glance my way and I instantly know that she’s beckoning me to dock my ship and come ashore.

I am the master of my mighty vessel, yet not a master of my own mind. I have to fight hard not to look in her direction though I know it's only a matter of time before I succumb to the lure of something inexplicable and surrender with all I've got. My eyes capture every move she makes. It’s the same nocturnal ritual each time. But still, I stand on the deck transfixed, as if it is the very first time such a sight is unfolding before my eyes. In a shimmering white dress, with her long lustrous hair blowing in the direction of the wind, she walks on towards the dark woods beyond, barefoot, not looking back till she reaches the very edge of it. Then she turns around and gives me another brief look and I know it’s time for me to follow suit.

While many people dread me and my band of men as the most notorious pirates these waters have ever witnessed, I consider all of us to be warriors fighting for a cause, fighting for our people in our own way. The men I have on board with me are the best I could have ever sought. For each man here is willing to put down his life if it comes to it, fighting to the very last. The cause for which we plunder, no other man may ever understand and it matters not who does. They say the invasion is still on in those distant shores but we believe only what we see whenever a shipload of soldiers comes our way. By principle we don’t hurt the women and children on board. Thankfully it never comes to that and you’ll know why soon enough. And by principle again, we don’t attack any other ship except for the ones that ferry the men in red and white. Yes, we are in a league of our own! We only fight and conquer those men who are mighty warriors themselves on land but mere rag dolls in our hands. We do not seek any great wealth that may come our way, for all the gold and silver in the world cannot fill the void that has become our lives. All we seek is vengeance.
The moonlight fades as we move deeper into the woods and only in parts can one see a sliver of white where the foliage is not so dense. But I don’t need any light. She is the beacon of silver that lights my path. And I silently follow her till we come to a clearing in the woods, the only place on the island perhaps where one can seek to be in absolute solitude. For surrounding us on all sides are wild beasts and creatures of the night, which for some strange reason keep away from this very clearing. She continues to walk until she finally merges with two wooden logs fastened together in the form of a cross. At this very moment, a familiar numbing pain sears through every cell in my body and I fall down in a heap over a mound of hard earth.

It’s all still fresh on my mind like yesterday. One moment we were a happy couple enjoying a quiet evening meal in our cottage. The very next moment, that sense of tranquility was shattered by heavy pounding on our door, almost bringing it down. One look outside the window confirmed that all was not well around. It seemed like our entire village had been set ablaze and flames were soaring high, not too far from where our modest cottage stood waiting its turn. That we were doomed was perhaps certain from the very first instant when we realized that our village and the surrounding farming lands were under attack by soldiers of some foreign land. But we were not ones to give up and surrender so easily. Some of us fortunately found our escape route through the high seas and pulled away from our otherwise idyllic village and set sail to a destination and fate that was as yet unknown.
As I drifted in and out of pain that seemed so physical and so real, I fought hard to overcome the grief that engulfed me. My sweet ----- , she couldn’t really be gone, could she ? This simply wasn’t real. This had to be some kind of nightmare. For how else could I still be alive without my loving wife and soul mate beside me? How could such an angel who filled my days with laughter, my dull moments with cheer, my disappointments with fresh hope and my life with absolute bliss, be gone now forever? If only I could wake up from this, only to discover the nightmare’s finally over!
We sailed on for days, with depleting food supplies. There was a point in time when we had to let go of our very own as the weak and the sick perished with the passage of time. But we still didn’t have any land in sight. But, for those of us who survived it all, a more terrible fate was in store. It must have been a fortnight after we set sail from our village and it finally looked as if we might be approaching land. And needless to say, our joys knew no bounds when we actually did. But those joys were to be short lived. For the very next morning, we were discovered by those very men in red and white who’d attacked and destroyed our homes and taken over all the assets we ever possessed. If they had just stopped at that, we might have been able to forgive them a lot sooner. But as fate would have it, they preyed on our womenfolk and killed our young. By the end of it all, there were just a handful of us men, wounded badly and awaiting death to come and reunite us with those we’d just lost. But as fate would have it again, we survived. To tell the tale and to avenge the death of our loved ones.
I weep and wail like a human possessed. I tear at the ground with my bare hands like a mad man. Grief knows no logic. It’s not meant to. It only needs to be vented out, if not to completely disappear at one go, at least so as to make it subside until the next time. In a distance I can hear the roar of the ocean. And I know my comrades await my return. They need me, their commander, to lead them and fight with them, until the very last ship of soldiers in red and white have met a similar end, as did our kith and kin. As I said, I am a warrior by my own right. I have duties to fulfill, fierce battles at sea to be fought. So I pick myself up and make my way back slowly but surely, towards the shore…

It’s rather ironical that we start out loving another, not by choice but by fate or whatever else that makes it happen. And sometimes the very object of our affections may be snatched away from us by a cruel twist of fate. But when this happens, we can choose to let go and move on or else to continue to love and long, pointless as it may seem to all others around. Thus, a love that started out as one that was not by choice would then become the only choice we would care to make.