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Saturday, February 25, 2012

Living in the Book -I

I fear the reckless caution
What scares me is the tamed emotion
No worry for tomorrow is a happy thing
But I fear no joy for the hope that the sunrise brings
I like looking close and deep
But in great detail unhappy memories I did rather not keep
It is an art to measure the depth of life ,
not live in vanity, in vain 
I like adding dimension to it
but a complicated projection is a bane
Sometimes its better to learn
to graze the surface ever so slightly
to amuse yourself with the mundane
rather than endure a discontentment quietly
For depths seem to come in pairs
mirth and despair often in equal shares
Too much thought, too much time
Past a childhood , eager words that still submit to rhyme
An idealism overfed with its own ideas
its exaggerated sense of special and nice
A mind whose fixated notions about everything
not an everyday routine can entice
and so it trudges along, eternally ungrateful and rude at times
Though still fond of cucumbers and melons, rain washed roads and wind chimes :)
Its a love-hate relationship with what this fabric of life around it is
A coming and going of joy and sadness, in its unclaimed premises
It is a frustration at not knowing how to measure
levels of happiness in the now and the needed dollops of leisure
It is an uncompromising painful stare
Against what should have been if the world would care 
Its like missing out a scene while being right there
All of a sudden being wishful of somewhere
which does not happen to be here and now
and beyond the stretches which even imagination would allow
Its like a secret love affair with an idea or a situation
which in reality is married to a scene of now with a bland disposition
It is an intense longing to go overboard
generously sprinkled with  a contradicting fear so proudly stored
Its like a meeting of yes and no
someplace between stop and go
Maybe its beautiful the way it is
in its bitter-sweet agony and little smiles
But sometimes I am scared of its darker shades
and I wonder if it can travel the miles
If it could only create a little of what it envisions
of being bigger than the self, dedicate a passion to its presence 
So, I ask you to simplify it a little
give it some common sense
Some common joys to taste and chew
and an appetite for the uncommon less intense
Maybe close the story book and fold the page
for sometime get down the stage
soothe those nerves and come out of the nook
Re-embrace the life you have, stop living in the book :)  

Notes : This one is to daydreams and the random desire to be someplace else , a stupid sense of dissatisfaction and sadness about the obvious unimportant reasons through which I justify why I am, and the conflicting desire to paint the scene differently, to add more meaning to it(and myself)..
I saw the movie "Midnight in Paris" and thought it talked about that very same , slightly crazy feeling of re-aligning space and time to meet your silly moods or just being angry with them for not changing on your whims...
I think there is lot left in the invisible footnotes that never found their taps on the keyboard and I didn't quite create the whole thought, so maybe I will come back some time to write another part to justify the confusion :)