Winter is a season with deep meanings. The wrath of autumn is clearly visible but the soft rays of morning silken sun & the mellow morning wind gives you hope. LIFE!
The last few weeks have been full of sadness & turmoil but in these troubled times, I also got to find many true friends & those who pretend to be friends. So I gather myself & decide on my life’s priorities. I let go many from my life like the wrath of autumn & even in cold winter I will personally bring warmth to those who I should like this warm silken sun rays.
Unknowingly we all take our life, our relations, our time & time of others. I think as I see smoke from my mug of tea in this soft winter sun. That smoke is gone, that moment is gone. Will my whole life power bring the same smoke again. Same way, do we hold our lives seriously, do we honour the lives of our loved ones & friends by holding it precious. Hold on to it. It’s simply irreplaceable, one & only edition. Each moment lost in arrogance, in careless ignorance, in calculated smirkness.
My friends we treat like there is a guaranteed tomorrow when even the next wink is not in our control & yet we waste it like a crumpled paper. Weekend is here. Think. Call those who you need to call, meet those who you need to meet, more important love & spend time with whom you need to.
How deep must I look to find where I’ve hidden myself? Deep withing & deep outside. Its just like this golden sun with hope but the dark silhouette keeps advancing much further along with this golden light. It all ends where it begins and it all begins where it all ends.
This last few weeks have passed the knowledge which so many years could not. Some people are meant to teach is how to feel goodbye & others how to feel forever. I know not what the time holds for me. At present it contains nothing at all. The depths beyond me are dark & silent. I try to listen to the sounds of the wind, or for the calling of a friend but nothing is heard. I sit down on the flower ridden grass. I try to listen to a language no one can hear. Its a language of a soul to soul.
A pair of Himalayan bulbuls were fussing & chirping, rustling up the dried leaves. The winter is getting strong & relations are going cold. I don’t have time for forgetfulness for the story teller tales will continue. Soon, night will fall with its crimson sky & uncountable stars. So my friends if you are still there, can we start. How about you tell me your story & I will make it ours.
Numbers & figures, questions & silence, silence & progress. Now let’s get back to the start. No one said it would be easy…. No one said it would be this hard.
In the end, I will just like to say Kismet will intervene…….. Where hearts have & will fail.
