MIND MUSINGS

Contemporary accounts of the my elusive mind.

Serenity

At 2 AM, besides the Shangri-La Lake, it's the quietness and the serenity that you feel when the lake is in front of your eyes; and as you gaze on the ripples of the water moving towards the edge like a Juliet to her Romeo,

you gaze on the ripples of the water moving towards the edge like a Juliet to her Romeo

the whole expanse seems to get widening when a soft breeze sways those flowers at the edge towards the enigmatic mountains shadowing the lake where some unknown spirits too, like me, might be becoming an addict to such a splendid offerings of the nature and then you think no further and talk no more. You just want to be there and keep looking, saying nothing, hearing nothing, just witnessing the stillness of life while this instant escape of the weary mind continues.

Seclusion

I run with light feet on a deserted track of Kalabagh hill, the chilly impression of wind cutting through my entire body. I hear the chirping of birds, on the green trees hemmed all over with the dark clouds. Flourishing of the flowers seems to fashion a talismanic effect on the ambiance and as I run, breath of air creeps out of my orifice. My mind is serene, free from all worries. Enigmatic smell of the wild flowers creates a spell bounding effect and as I gaze at the green meadows downhill, my eyes close in ecstasy.

At that juncture, the crack of a dawn makes its way through the clouds contravening the silence, everything seem to move in a mystical fashion. I don’t want to close my eyes at this instant, rather experience the beauty of nature that has fashioned the life, and I just want to be there, witnessing the composure of life as my mind drifts and soul dances in seclusion.

Poignance

Sitting by the window gazing out at the empty street wet after the drizzle, I cradled the phone between my hands. Signs of dusk overshadowing the sky engulfed in the arms of cloud. Since last night, every phone call and every text brought a hope, and no wish seemed to matter as much as that one phone call I had been waiting for. Lost in the depths of despair, my instinct kept me clinging as I murmured to myself "She will!", Jack lying on the floor in front of me raised his ears and growled as if he was agreeing to it.
Suddenly the phone rang as I sprung to my feet, everything seemed to have reached an impasse around me, heart pounded faster, fingers unable to move with the phone as I tried to answer it with my hands quaking, a smile passed my lips as I pressed the answer button expecting the sweetest voice.

The smile seemed to wander away, throwing myself back on the couch in shear disappointment as the voice broke the silence. Just another regular call it was and like yesteryears, thou again had forgotten this day! Feeling squandered; a shiver of grief circumvented and at that juncture, my eyes were invaded with the tears, the tears of anguish.

Composures

Rain has just stopped; sparkling road with the cold showers, bordered with green soaked trees that dance with the wind, I walk in laze holding my jacket over my shoulders pondering over the very existence and inhabitants of this orb. Every one of them scampering from place to place trying to get things done, career, capital, professional excellence; different things espousal mind fields embroiling the brain, ruining the personal life, callous have they become in the urge for brilliance giving philanthropy no considerations with the exception of their very own needs. Rushing into a quagmire as they degrade their souls famishing their lives, turning into a Flippant lest; losing the rope of humanism and yet they remain discontented denying the fact. Do not eat more than your appetite, do not stress your brain more than its competence, do not force your body more than its capacity, and then do not grumble if you do it all! You have no hurried departure, as you lie in your sepulcher waiting for the days to end, waiting for that very spark of hope; waiting!

Seraph

I know ardor gets to us at times while we can’t even imagine it happening but even the Scientology failed to unwire the strings of my heart as the daunting shades adhere my cohort. I gaze at stairs as people clamber all so dapper with phony smiles, empty hearts, perplexed hoping that this would be a beginning of a new-fangled eon of their lives. I might just sound hypothetical but the reality is yet incontrovertible no matter we accept it or not. World! It’s an entirely different celestial sphere with strange characters and peculiar behaviors identified as humans, roving the lands looking for hideouts. I sit in this dark little shady corner where the sound of music scarcely flow, unobserved and faceless in tranquility where no one perturbs me while I stare at people as smile crosses my face and brain tinkles. Refutation of the description of love and existence yet I know I do it all the time, be there, rally round and subsequently vanish as the individuals embrace their loved ones realizing the significance of reverence. I disappear in the mist, never to be found, seen, or heard, again!

Sacrifice

Reverence

I have waited all these years, loved her since I was a kid, she doesn’t know about it. Today I have decided to tell her, tell her everything that I have felt for her. I rush out of the office, grab a bouquet of flowers around the corner; and as I run, water beneath my feet squish with splash and the drops of rain on my head wet my hair. Neither do I need an umbrella, nor a shelter; I need nothing, just her. I run fast, faster, as fast as I can! Clouds seem to come in my way and the spell of rain bounds, people, impediments, but I am stanch, nothing can stop me, I am breathless! As I reach the corner of the street, I hear the honking of horn, I look onto my right and something seems to hit me right in the middle of the road.

I lay here, out of breath, blood all around; I can see the angel, the angel of death right before me. And as the grim reaper takes my hand, I feel my soul leave my corpse, the death candles lit in the article of death, captivated; I see her standing on the road with an another guy in the horde. I presume I got late, a bit too late!

Innocence

Recalling the times when I was a kid, a kid with rosy cheeks that blushed with wariness, fearless of vindictive world, playing and hoping every moment to be better. Great were those times when I would sleep in the warmth of my mother’s arms, I was, the prince of my little kingdom, with toy soldiers and knights guarding my elfin empire. Times change life now is a complicated and mechanical field, and I, who at once used to be the prince of that beautiful little empire, has become a farmer of this rural community known as Global Village. Thou, I am an adult now, too busy for anything, in the corner of my mind; I still have this little kingdom of mines, that I am trying to guard. This is my little realm which is a blend of different flavors, flavors of innocence, quietness, where the soothing zephyr touches the edges of flourishing roses; roses of hope that spread its fragrance over the fleshy meadows where the mind is wholly taken up with reminiscences of past gaiety.

Flight

Midnight, I sit on the top of roof, gazing towards the moonlight that spreads its wings and bestows its light, while the dim lights of city far away on the Islamabad hills blink. I see an aircraft taking off, cutting air with the edges of its wings heading towards its destination. And as I gape, smooth cold wind, whispers through my bones, making me frisson but still I can sense it, the heat of my body, and the wetness of water in my eyes. I try hard, very hard; to stop myself, to stop the water in my eyes from coming out but the intensity of the pain overcomes the stringency of my soul. The water drills down the trail, cheeks, nose, dry lips, and finally it comes to rest as it lands on the cover of my dry robe. I question, question myself, “Why does one have to leave?” But seems like I don’t have an answer, I never had; never will!

Love in a Mist

She sits on the rock in wonder; like a whiff of fresh air they moved into each others' life, but this friendship is starting to go beyond the precincts. She discerns that he adores her but is unsure; too afraid to ask or express her feelings. She questions herself, “Would they ever be able to express their love, would they ever come close”; close enough to feel the warmth of true love inside. Would they ever find the courage to love, the courage to come together and celebrate life!
The pounding of heart, the rush of blood, the rosy blush of love, hashing and groping of things, smiling without a reason, wearing bright colors, admiring everything around, valuing one and all, for this is the very ecstasy of love. She ponders, as the waves of the ocean ram into the rocks and light’s last blushes tinge the distant hills.

Emptiness

Almost an empty bus whilst he lay on the seat; eyes shut. He wants to cry but tears don’t seem to help. Just when one tear decides to spring out and trail down the cheek resting on his shoulder as he wipes his face pretending to be all sleepy. Bus charges its way towards the Capital at this hour of the night, lights go out as he relishes his loneliness. Returning home late at night from work, having the option of leaving early morning but he did not want to wait, too weak to hide his tears and emotions from family. Life has its ups and downs and he understands every bit of it now but when things reach their limit and the capacity to hold no more is puffed up, nothing seems to help. Valiant is the one who is the man of circumstances, who knows how to play with circumstances and risk things rather flowing with them.

Combatant

I see the stones set in the eyes as I walk down the trail at this hour of night. Through the storm no one but thee makes it to the shores yet I can feel myself plunging deep in the anastomosis of cynicism. Dust storms rising as the horses from the north scuttle amongst those heavy trails within the mountains, I adjust my sombrero moving my fingers over the handgun tightening the grip of the strap preparing for the jump. My Stallion reads my mind as he gallops in high pace towards me, moon shining high on the back; I spring up on its back taking its strings in my hand as we stride towards the eastern mountains shrouded in the dark. I have lost my trust on comrades; I would fight with my own armour and sword as I roar, drifting towards the bloodcurdling mountains in the wake of which lies great fears but I have set my own ways and I would fight my own war!

Angst

People and cars go past her as she sits there on the boardwalk, cold wind blowing from south scuffing her bones and the drops of drizzle wetting her hair. A boy standing in close proximity sings "COLD COLD HEART", his fingers moving softly over the strings of the guitar. Her eyes fill with tears, memories come alive, memories of the good old times that they had spent together. Cherishing moments of friendship and affection comprising of joyful laughs, liveliness, belief, discovery, grief, a leaning shoulder to cry on, wishing for those moments to come back just for a few minutes. A friend, who had forfeited for others was left to die, unaccompanied, left in the arms of seraph of death for an eternal; serene sleep. She sits there in disbelief; a shattered soul trying to envisage the news of her friend's death to be a hoax but the veracity could not be denied. Her friend is free, free from the qualms and plights of this vindictive world.