Stupendously Sublime

Today after a long time, i had the opportunity to think..to really think about where life has brought me as person, as a son, as a friend and very frankly said, i have had some very romantic ideals; friendship, loyalty being there for my near and dear ones and for a long time i have followed them as well. But, during all this time i have realised again what my cynical self had proclaimed far and loud "everyone will betray you, it's not a matter of 'if' it's a  question of when" and i don't mean in a literal sense that someone will take a knife and stab me in the back. Its a betrayal of expectations, of trust, of promises and it happens with such regularity that it somehow astounds me and  amuses me to no end. As new people enter our lives we learn that there will always be people who will be there to spend our happy times with us and let's face it that we are in the prime of our lives, its all downhill from here folks. We take for granted our bonds

The sound of silence is deafening, i never used to put up with such cliches but after having felt it so clearly i am a believer. The sound of no sound can madden anyone and many teeter on the precipice of their sanity for a long time without falling either way (madness is like gravity). My dark  brood  into the inner reaches of my  mind  was interrupted by the wind ruffling through the bamboo thickets of Mysore DC and these magnificent plants created an auditory effect that i could not have foreseen/fore heard. The thousands of bamboo leaves (they are not actually leaves, bamboo is grass) rubbed against each other, protested the wind and created an angry voice that could rival the biggest wave crashing into the rocky shore, amazed at this likeness i sat for a moment or an eternity in that storm of white noise  slowly clearing my mind of all its clutter, breathing in the nothingness and breathing out the cloud of doubt that dogs me everyday. For those few glorious minutes i ceased to

Strange, how things come to me so late at night, here i was enjoying one of the few delights in life: a great movie coming late at night (without breaks) on a weekend when i can watch it in peace and enjoy it like a fine summer wine and a beautiful movie it was, "Finding Forrester" was compelling but my thought was because of something the character of sean connery said in the film. He said, and i'm paraphrasing here, "don't think, write....write from the heart and edit with the brain" something similar that i have read as well is "write drunk, edit sober" (this is usually credited to Ernest Hemmingway, but it is actually the creation of one Peter de Vries) which makes sense or doesn't, i don't know, all i know is that i can't write when am drunk and i hate rework so i don't edit. Thinking or better still not thinking is the key to let your instincts and emotions guide the flow of your pen while you pour yourself out onto the pap