Saturday, March 24, 2012

life is comprehensible, is it?

i hereby fly in my dreams with my wings wide open
in a gush of wind and emotions
am i alone in this vast sky
i guess i am
but whom do i want to accompany me
some women, but why
oh those are very basic biological reasons
but is that all
whom do i want
i guess finally its me
whom i want to see through other
and what a women can do better than any man
is to let me feel more completely
of what i am, thats i am a man
and she desires me much more than any man can do
probably thats the reason i need a women
but why do i want such a exquisite evidence of me
isnt that i can tell me yes i am.
i am completely, ya i can do that
but where is the proof
proof is the other, and more suitably a women
because she too need an evedence
its an act of complimenting
each other for what they are
how special they are
am i comprehending love
or obliterating it
emotions are better let to act like an enigma
we shouldnt deal with them like psychologists
else we will loose their charm
is it so?
will i keep asking questions to me like that
and providing me the answers
not other option yet!

Thursday, March 22, 2012


Dreams are the path of soul where it often stops to relieve itself of its tiredness either trough a fresh energising whiff of imagination or prepare itself for catharsis through nightmares, our imaginations meets with reality through them they are like a glimpse which can be felt can be seen and even gives the space for participation but does not ought to be touched they vanish with touch, that is i feel the enigma of life too live it get fully engaged with it, but if u want to understand it it vanishes like an ethereal light which let u see the life. life do gives confusion because of dreams , the confusion is that whether life is just a flow of concious which intermittently peeps out through the medium of dreams or dreams are the real flow of concious which seeks a manure of life not in its abstractness but in its concreteness to translate themselves and to rejuvinate them. life often transmigrate through them into the unlived moment created by us.