Tuesday, December 15, 2015

A Generation, Vocal

I feel a bittersweet sense of comfort in the fact that communication has played such a big role in shaping the zeitgeist of our times. Do you imagine life without twitter by tweeting about it? Yeah, you're pretty up there. What's not to like - everyone now having a voice has allowed many pressing issues to be discussed. Healthily. Be it acceptance of gay love, solidarity in the face of unfair killings of wildlife or a show of support for humanity beyond borders – we now live in a time where a singular cry of help does not have to drown out in the sea of noise that we swirl around in, all accustomed to the clangour. 

Right now, even amidst deafening commotion, when something important needs to be put out there, rest assured, it will echo with a resounding bang. How about it, huh?

On the other hand, how many times do we stop to think that not using this almighty power of being vocal is even an option? What do you reckon would happen if every single person living on the planet sincerely agreed to execute a synchronised 2 minutes of absolutely no talking? We could go numb with shock at our own silence. I'm astounded to think just what great discoveries we might make if we all stopped talking about human stuff and strain ourselves to listen. If, magically, such meditative silence descended on the planet, I'm pretty fucking sure we can hear the elements moan as they swish past our indifferent selves. And if ever that dreamlike state continued for a bit longer we'll even see that other species are actually talking to us. I worry for the amount of sarcasm we'd be in for.

As I flop back onto the bed, I can visualise the Earth breaking into a little celebration jig at the thought of such relieving silence. "Maybe I can finally get 'round to reading that book."

Courtesy: Pinterest

Communication is more than just the verbal game is what my father always says.
Well, jabber-jabber or not, what an exciting field of study!

Have yourself a lovely day!

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Portrait of a Devastating Announcement

I wailed like a spoiled child. All noise. No tears. The news I'd just heard, jolted my head like a heavy duty live-wire. Its sheer implausibility chased me across the forest like some hateful spirit. Bounding without a sense of 'where to' till my legs gave way, I collapsed on a hillock. Brazen wilderness beyond which you would see nothing. Anesthetized by the stiff spears of countless grass soldiers under my person, I fell quiet. I prayed desperately for this loss of sensation to stay. The frenzied panting made to subside. Nothing to do, then, but bide my time before the reality of that unforgiving news came raging, and without fail, back again. No, please, no... My closed eyelids did nothing to help and kept dragging me - by my hair - back to the nauseating thought. Noooooooo, please! A shudder flung them right open and for a few frantic moments I looked wildly around for anything to replace the chaos within.


I saw that the big silver sun wasn't whole. He was a million glimmering mirrors instead. How? It was the handiwork of a most intricate web of leaflets overhead. Grateful for this distraction, I pressed my back deeper into the grass, now begging for the numbness to last.

An insignificant lapse of time. My skull was tightening with all that blood rushing to my head. The insides of my face could have been an oven. Blink. An almighty quiver on my lip. Blink. Blink. Breathing hurt.

I threw my elbow toward the sky and squeezed the bridge of my nose with the thumb and index. The image of sunlight collected in the branches above me persisted even after I let my eyelids fall. Komorebi, the  barely accurately translatable Japanese word comes to mind. Shortly, towards either of my temples, unrestrained rivers of salty, heartwrenching pain. At last.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Spreading my Legs for Trouble

Late at a friend's noisy den. Stoners' haven.
After nursing his sprained leg for a bit, decide it's best to put obliging partner to sleep.
Realize it's complicated to leave him alone and resign to situation.
Goodnight kisses. Forehead stroking in absentia. 
I'm awake as fuck, in the quietest room.
The party outside is breathing its last.
The raging celebration inside my head however threatens to spill out my ears.
The most inspired I have felt in a while happens to be now.
Sacred trippy thoughts start to arrive.
Better put them down else they will be lost forever.
Pull out phone. Start writing. 
Submit completely to Stream of Consciousness.
Jump out of my skin.
"Google System Update Available."
Partner's calm sleep = destroyed.
Those bloodshot eyes fly open to spot me glued to phone screen at that ungodly hour.
*sound of crickets in the dead of night*
50 second recon to make sure we're okay.
I'm helpless against the rapid, unending flow of thoughts. 
Must. Keep. Writing.
My inability to stop what I'm doing at 3:28 am registered by the husband.
I notice he isn't snoring anymore and that throws me.
Inspiration begins to ebb and flow. No! No! Oh you poor masterpiece that could have been
Imagination & Co. waving goodbye.
Come baaaack!
*crickets laughing their head off at my plight*
The proverbial light bulb goes on.
Oh fuck. This may look a bit... umm dodgy?
"Perks" of having partner from entirely different line of work.
Then, a not-so-great track record comes to mind.
My thoughts have now clotted entirely.
Better do this tomorrow. Audible sigh.
With a press of the lock button that screen goes dim.
I roll over to cozy up but am met with a grunt.
Then for the rest of the night, all I see is the back of a torso.
Enough damage to ruin eagerly anticipated brunch?


At least, Sangrias.