Trap of Life

No matter how strong I make of myself, and how much I grasp my thoughts and try to conquer my particular life, life always works the way it has always been working and the way it has been with everyone. No difference induced by the fallacy of uniqueness. All my efforts may just change a shade or put a cloak of acceptance over it, but it always works the way it always has been and the way it wants to. 

One ignorant but adamant bitch, life.

Falling in despair, appearance of a gleam of hope, rising to it and then living a few cheerful days before the cycle repeats. Life works just like that, no exceptions with anyone. Certainly the period of this cycle varies, but everyone kneels or is made to kneel and taste both dust and pain. Time and again, over and over. That’s the reality of this comedy.

Then there are always ways out of everything, so is one out of this. That escape wouldn’t be really called a escape because there is nothing beyond it. The escape is: lifelessness. Feeling less of everything. Feeling only over the skin, far away from the vulnerabilities of heart. Both joy and pain. Monotonous smiles and tears.

You might as well just continue living as you were. There isn’t any escape out of it. We don’t really require one either.


The space between words and reality

Some things are just so real that you refuse to write them and let it be.

Words are great, and perhaps the greatest thing our kind has ever brought in existence, but reality is mightier. Words do not have the power to contain reality in its exact trueness. Because reality is too enormous to be possesed, too real.

When we set out to write about something, be it in forms of poetry or other creative writings, we use metaphors to state how something feels like, and metaphors lie far away from the real nature of that reality which we set to describe.

The more you make use of metaphors, the closer you move to poetry and the farther you move from reality.

No doubt we come up with exquisitely beautiful definitions in forms of poetry about the pain in our heart and the longing for our lover and everything that amuses us in nature but that simply isn’t reality. I don’t say that it needs to be, I just say that it isn’t.

What maybe drawn out of what I’m trying to say here is that: I am not devaluing poetry and words, I am rather stating the mightiness of reality that we often set out to describe in words.

The falling of a leaf in desolation under unguided force and waywardness is different from what we feel when our heart suddenly drops into some kind of congested abyss, but I surely can use the former as a metaphor for the latter – and, I must say, that’d be amazing. But that exactly which we had wished to describe will remain unwritten.

It is and it will be,

only felt.

Speak The Writing

Usually when we stumble upon some people who write with magic in their lines and poetic aura in their words, we simply set it in our beliefs how ideal the person is. And as you keep on reading them, your set of beliefs raise him/her even higher.

And the day comes when you began to wonder about them. How must they really be, apart from all the mysticism of their words. How must their thinking work, how must they perceive things. And most and most importantly, our wondernment keeps on stumbling on one thing: how must they speak. How must they talk and converse, with what ideality and what perfection. We sometimes wish to see them, and aspire to be like them.


From my set of thoughts and understanding, social media is a mirage of personalities. It shows you what actually does not exist, or even if it does, it lays at unapproachable distances.

To be disappointed on seeing your idol to be nothing like you’d worshipped is clearly and only your fault. While they may be helpless in being unable to reflect in real what they are from within, you are still to blame – for not understanding.

If writing is an art, so is speaking. And they are distinct. One barely intersects the other. One might be a master of eloquence of words with ink and paper in hand but he might just seem to be another one of the crowd when he speaks.

And, you might have met some who has the art of telling stories and tales and incidents out of their mouth in the perfection of expression, but he will again waffle if handed with a pen and paper.

The point is, the two are equally distinct arts. While it is possible for someone to have control over both, it is very rare.

What is it about writing that cannot enter speaking, why can’t them both merge, after all isn’t the two a mere way of bringing out what lies in you?

Realistically speaking, it simply isn’t realistic to be as clever and tricky in speech as much as in writing. Life is a chaos, and so is what happens around. Everything happens and moves so fast that you do not get even seconds to consider what you should speak and how.

Another thing is, most of the things that we write seems a little weird and makes the atmosphere awkward if we speak them out. After all, isn’t philosphy considered uncool to discuss, poetry cannot be simply enunciated without attracting a lot of (unrequired) attention, and to be sublime in speech is again a little alienish.

All and all, for this too, we are again to blame, just like for every other thing wrong with the universe.

The Unwise Ones

Those who you find talking of hope and of assurance that things will get better and all is good can be assumed to be having a good time, a moment that relishes their everyway desires and longings. And you will see them speaking of the light, of the good things, and they wish good upon you and solace those who maybe hurt and in despair, but another thing only a few might notice is that they do not put much effort into telling you all these. At one point, if you look at them in a bitter but naked real way, you’ll conclude they do not care. They are far interested in enjoying their good time while pretending to be noble merely to not appear selfish to his own self. The goodness that reflects is also a mere default automatic programmed behviour that come into action at similar times.

Or simply put and a little in their favour, you may say that they may be of a good soul with caring intentions but they are just not wise enough.


It does not take callings from the light to take out someone out of misery, it requires pushes from within the darkness to pull them out.