Bangalore's dying winter fog is at its mightiest today, Fighting to breathe life into a characteristic regular lazy dawn. Ten feet from the gates of Apollo, fresh smell of tea swirled in the air as I gazed into the calm roads of Bannerghatta. It is rare that the suffocating traffic and loud honks of vehicles through this road could be overcome by deafening silence. Eight Months have passed, and every day the tea from this small tea stall fuelled in the energy to not give up.
Death — Death is just an end for one pawn in the crowd, who has set in motion a chain of events that will refurbish a bishop to a king. Pieces of a game is all we are for the almighty but the moves are controlled to defeat the opposite. I have seen the pain in waiting for the end with no resort. The closure to the endless needles ripping through the body from outside.
Destiny — Destiny is a game of rights and wrongs, a treasure hunt where each choice leads you to a separate dénouement.
This is my location for the hunt, a hunt of love, loss and life. Rights or wrongs are just probabilities, Satisfaction is destined for the unworthy who stop choosing. I leave a lot desired to be completed by another.
Life — Life is a journey with interlinking paths and diversions that ultimately define who you where, are and will be. The journey of life doesn't begin on the day you were born, It is set on to motion from the days of your ancestors. A journey that meets its eminent end at an eternal rest. Life Designs — intricate and meticulously crafted are irrelevant. We live in a world where my choice might lead to your demise. But Today, I seem to have embraced the outcome, an outcome which has been poking at me every day and night.
Happiness — Happiness is my victory, selfish and self-centred. Irrational and Insane it may appear to you but unless I do not feel it I am not invested. I am happy today not at a demise, but a cloak I finally vanquish — The Cloak of needs.
Love — Love is a blossoming flower which withers in intervals, but is always reborn till the roots are strong. My Choice was to love one and be reborn every time to fall in love with her soul and space. Choice to love only her will reshape a gentle soul to embrace my emptiness but I trust the flower will bloom tomorrow as the roots are still strong in us.
Birth — Birth is an abstract, It stays an event till you discover yourself. Interlinked worlds and multiple personalities style you. Doors you open and answers you solve decide when you are finally not an abstraction class. I am who I am from the day my desire to write bundled over the software designed.
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| The Walking Man - Shanna Bruschi |
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