Figment

psychedelic

Archive for the month “June, 2012”

What you will never find on this blog

  1. Tags – I dislike tagging. For I am trying to get nowhere with this blog. It is not an ambitious commercial project that I have undertaken to prove to the world that I can write, I have ideas, can philosophize and can sound important and intelligent!  Secondly, I am not waiting to be discovered. This blog is too intimate an attempt for me and while I might be a Communication specialist, Journalist, Activist and an Environmentalist in another world, here I am just a figment of my imagination. Do not take me seriously in real life, please! If you have come on my blog, I want you to read all the stuff posted here and have your own tags for my ideas. Stereotyping my writing with tags is like limiting my thinking within the grasp of few words. Now I understand that all words have synonyms  that might not mean the same thing to the word itself but might have a little bit more to add to the concept as a whole and that is what I am trying to do here. Freedom of words. Pure freedom. Tagging loses the purpose of freedom of word ecstasy that writers experience.  And like how Margritte put it “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” (“This is not a pipe“)’
  2. Feminist activism – I am a woman and that is about it. I am not frustrated at Men just because they happen to be Men! Also being a woman, I don’t feel the moral responsibility to be an advocate for my fellow females. I strongly believe in individual rights of human beings. Only if we saw all of us as Humans first rather letting our hormones get the better of us, the world would be a more egalitarian place. ‘Women are equal to Men’  ‘Men are equal to Women and ‘Men and Woman are equal’. These are three  very different sentences and concepts and I am NOT interested in decoding them.  Most of the angry/not angry feminist/ pseudo- feminist/ reactionary feminist blogs fail to even see this difference! But I am sure, one day they will get there. The reason why I am not interested in decoding these concepts is simply because I believe that I can concentrate my energies on the other ‘isms’ like Humanism and Pacifism better.
  3. Work – So like I said, I might be a Communication specialist, Journalist, Activist and an Environmentalist in another life, I will never discuss work on this blog. There is a lot to a person besides what they do to make a living. While I am immensely content with my job, my blog is another thing all together. All of us have multiple personalities. It is just a matter of time, we realise this and harmonise our living while maximising these personalities. But again curiosity kills cats and I am so feline, I will not let this happen on my blog! If you are curious about my life and what I do for REAL then please find me on Linkedin. No, I am not giving you the Linkedin account details here. If you are curious enough, you will surely find it yourself with a bit of diligence. The Internet is such a bitch! We all know of this. But then again, what is REAL?

That woman again.

She stood there.

There where I was her.

Where I stood before.

She falls with stiff feet,

her feat in defeat.

He did it again, he did it neat.

It is not about her

but  him.

She crawls slowly,

brushes off her whim.

Again, I enrage,

with her forage,

bandage her wounded feet

with  courage.

When I dream, I become real.

Festival.

Image

If people but knew their own religion,how tolerant they would become and how free from any grudge against the religion of others. Rumi

Today is the Summer solstice. It is the longest day of the year. Leaving the geometric, physics part of it apart, this is one day in the whole year that I consider to be the only festival of my religion. My religion is that of the stars. The Sun shines for the longest today. A festival is not about what you borrow, it is about what you feel and celebrate as an individual. It cannot get any real for me than this. I have the whole day to celebrate the warmth and cherish the light of the star. I feel light. Went to meet a few Peacocks today and trace a few ruins that have stood through time to experience the Sun. It was beautiful when I saw some deeply orange colored dragonflies fly around the lake. They felt like fire-flakes.

Substance abuse

Radioactive laughter fuses such swell.

Swell is the substance, the breath and my body.

My body, my breath and my substance.

Waiting to get abused.

The soldier gets his glow-sticks out.

The man of substance. That look, worn-out.

He points the gun on my heart, I feel him in my gut.

Orchids pour out of this smut and am very hurt.

A whiff of substance I burn in.

Never will I sustain as whole again.

I touch myself again and forget that I was once electric.

To pick up your stash and leave is another thing,

to leave your stash and leave is another.

But to lose your substance altogether  is of bother.

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