Wishful thinking

And there's always a thought involved in the thought...

why would the thought come so often otherwise?

Like maybe you have walked many steps...

thinking about something

Or walked in rain...

pondering over...

And yet did you wonder why would that thought bother you all the time?

Or maybe you were talking to somebody

and you could see this imaginary wall

that divided the two of you

And you wished..

wished that moment

that that wall breaks

like you could punch it hard

and it breaks

and yet you couldn't figure out why you could see 

something so invisible all the time..

And there's always a thought involved in the thought

for it may not come otherwise

it may not knock the door of your heart

not ask you to think about it

again and again

that wall...

that invisible wall

says something!

that 25 track playlist

Hard drives---it is so strange that my story is about it. About what I found in a hard drive and eventually it lead me to something. 

Lead me somewhere.

A friend gave me one, to fill some music. 

I did the task. 

And then…

Because it was a 1 TB object with contents that ranged from movies…documents...records…pictures…I was exploring the device (we all do that).

Not much information, it was one of the worst explorations ever and just a few minutes before I was about to detach the 1 TB boring object I came across a folder…

Had someone’s name (a HE by gender).

I opened it, heard it—some 25 odd songs—

******

Love is weird, or my life has been way to dramatic to term it weird...it is!!

I fell in love—with the 25 odd songs which I knew didn’t belong to my friend. 

If you hear good music, you better be good--- Definition of good music is variable but I am referring to the affinity that you develop with somebody listening to a similar taste as yours— I developed a similar affinity to this 25 song stranger.

Well…who did they belong to? 

Did I know him in a common circle…

Somewhere?

That question topped the charts—

Next day was closure.

I handed over the hard drive to my friend and opened that folder of 25 songs) …

Who do they belong to?

I love them all, I have saved them …tell me who is he?

My friend gave me a very normal expression—by that I mean he woudn’t show tantrums of not helping me with this..it was a blank face.

Well, that’s all I have! He replied.

And you mean by that…my eyes as big as they can be…

He is no more!

As I said---Love stories are weird.

Listening to the 25 track folder…

Blue

 

 

Blue sky...
Blue ties...
Blue floor...
Blue mind...

Blue hope...
Blue life..
Blue clothes...
Blue valentine!

Blue sea...
Blue flower..
Blue sense..
Blue power!

Frames

Out from the oven

Last known surroundings

A lot of reshuffling is going on—with objects...life...my chair facing the sun—the pens drinking ink—the table kept assorted with things that I would usually need --cups, tea, kettle, pen, papers...—the only clutter being the papers---torn, assorted, rough edged---and a plan in head—that’s fancy life for me—being in a room of thoughts—bringing observations back home.

Out there is noise...unbearable to my ears -- so I fill them with music--with sounds I wish to hear--and then there are days when I try the sun..the voices...but the definition of what's interesting in THEM fades for me...it's like a chance...and howsoever..how many CHANCES you give to people---it's all about them failing you or you failing them--- what you always come back to ...is you...!

Quintessential contrast

Somebody has to be insignificant...
to know the significance of something!!

Somebody has to be wrong...
to know what right is!!

Someone has to be shallow in approach...
to know what depth in life means.

Something has to be meaningless..
to know the real meaning--

Somebody has to be hated...
to know what love is...

Somebody has to be a devil...
to find out angels in life!