Imagination - Time for Yourself

Right now I imagine a quite common night and morning after.
It’s no action-movie, just something that will come true someday:

One night when I don’t have sleep once again, I sit in my room - wow, actually the whole colorful house is mine! There’s actually no music playing, but in my imagination I can hear someone belting out tunes.

I’ve been up, been up... just no sleep and its ok for me! I don’t have to go to work the next day, so it’s perfect to waste time in my night.

It’s almost 3AM. I look silently towards the door. He he, NO - today she won’t step in at 3 in order to come and shout: ´You, owl! Owl! Go to bed! ´
At that moment it also comes to my mind that she won’t never ever complain about my eating- or dressing habits, either!
It’s good to know that you have a caring mom - but she has realized, that you are a grown-up now, who CAN live without much sleep, meat, and warmer cap.

Then, out of the blue I notice, that during previous thoughts I’ve managed to paint a picture. This one is REAL, a really good work, not like the ones from past efforts!
I drink Coffee, as much as I want, and no one tells me that if a person has about 10 tiny cups a day, the brains are going to act so that one day you will be found like an idiot.... I pour myself another cup of Coffee.

And you know what - I must have been falling to sleep at some point, because I see myself opening the eyes again - I feel fresh, my hair look fine, I’m all so fired up and that’s when I decide to write this thing - IMAGINATION.

Imagination - The ability to confront and deal with reality by using the creative power of the mind; resourcefulness: handled the problems with great imagination.

An imagination is something that twists the tongue. The thing that takes you beyond life itself brings a fascination of the world to the mind. Makes the unreal become a vision of the future itself, takes one person and makes them fly through the sky of their very mind.
Twisting and turning around corners of the mind, to create that of dreams itself. Take one world, the world where magic clashes with the lands, taking a soul and winding it around others hearts; making everything beyond the truth itself, and turn it into the unforeseen, the thing you want to see. The mind is always flowing with the thoughts, even in the end of time...


Imagination is something really personal to each and every person. However, there are those, which people share with you, and you can share with them.
It is about time that the description is changed as the world of imagination has become the world of constant and that is not what imagination is...

Remember the time when anything would stimulate our imagination into intense imaginative 'Humbug'!! AND I say Humbug because this word has played with my imagination TOO LONG
Revisit the time when everything was open for imagination; the dark night, the painting of a horse in the living room, Grandfather’s walking Stick... Rivers... Sea... Fire...
Let’s see if we have not LOST it... I am trying to IMAGINE.



Imagination comes out of aspiration... and one could try and feel what it would feel like if he had done some particular thing. There’s nothing wrong in imagining, because there is actually no correlation between imagination and reality. Reality is completely dependent on the zeal of a person to achieve what he aspires, where as imagination is just the time that he spends to derive joy...
Well, that is one part of it
For example, imagination in the other sense could be what artists do; they imagine something by themselves and try to transform it on canvas.
Had their imagination not been strong enough, they would not have turned their canvas to a wonderful painting
So it’s always good to know what you can do and imagining things can only encourage you to do that.

What you say can be accepted to an extent but, nothing works without imagination; the human mind is made that way and it’s innate in us to imagine something as and when we think about it
Imagination is always stronger than reality; reality is shadowed by real living factors and imagination is all in your control

One cannot live in imagination but till the time you are there it is a living heaven for all

I wish we all had the means to live in imagination and all my efforts in life are directed towards converting my IMAGINATION to REALITY and controlling the distance between them..........

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Silence - Another aspect of ME

Last night was one of those times I often ramble and write. But I didn’t feel like writing, I didn’t know what to say. Sometimes I don’t know what to think let alone why I’m thinking it. There is something about that time of night when everyone else is asleep, you’ve gotten home in one piece and had dinner, and the day seems like an age ago. It clears my mind to think beyond the last 24 hours and the next 24 to come.

Lately I’ve been really unsettled and not quite sure why. Ideally (because we all imagine what our ideal selves would do) I would sit myself down and have a heart to heart about what I’m scared of, too scared of to even say, and what I should do to fix it, hide it, or forget about it. But I haven’t done that, I’m not sure why. Possibly, because it’s one of those things so ingrained in me that it’s easier to not think about it and pretend it will go away.

So last night, I felt lonely, in my own way. Being needy is something I hate and I’m scared of. It makes me agitated. It’s like I’m looking and waiting for something and not really knowing what, but deep down inside, I know what it is, I’m just too scared to say it. As I sat there and talked to a friend on the other side of the world, I found myself asking him for answers to my questions. Using him, in my own way, as a sounding board, a chance to write what I am thinking at the moment.

I pour my soul out to the internet. I sit here and tell people things I’ve never told my friends. I’ve made friends so close, talked for 10 hours straight, heard intimate secrets. At that moment, I feel closer to that person than anyone else. It is funny how thoughts form in your head, but sound so different when they manage to escape.

When I was younger, friends were the type to come and go, and though you may grow close, the relationships ebb and flow, sometimes, I don’t really know them and sometimes they don’t know me.

With these people in our lives, for a moment, we can completely understand each other. But I harbor the knowledge that tomorrow, we will change, move on, be different and that closeness will be lost. Is it possible to find someone as committed to changing with me as I am to them? I don’t really know, but I suppose I’ll keep my eye out.

I had all these things to say, but no words to say them. Last night, words left me and I fluttered through ideas and words with seemingly no meaning. In fact, having enjoyed many discussions among friends, people who have read what I write always say I write better than I talk. Maybe my brain is just slow and I need to collect my words in order to sound witty. Or maybe it’s because when I sit there in front of someone in real time, a million thoughts go through my mind, censoring, altering, predicting. Here, I say everything I need to, erase anything I don’t, and serve it up as a single course.

I’m going to think about what needs to be thought, for the benefit of my sanity. Maybe I will let you know when I sort it out. But that’s exactly what I’m stuck on. Why do I feel like I need to sort things out alone?

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Lost thought.

There are so many thoughts on my mind..

So many things I wish to find..

But I'm so lost for words tonight..

I just can't seem to think of what is wrong and what is right..

Everything is so confusing.. So messed up..

But maybe it just isn’t enough for me to be fed up..

The right seems wrong.. And the wrong seems so full of delight..

Its this unstoppable feeling I can't really fight..

Or maybe I just don't want to..

'Cuz as weird as it sounds.. I like what I'm going through..

It's like all my thoughts are covered in ice cold frost..

But it has to melt..And I have to feel the way I once felt..

Snapping back to reality..Back to the world full of lies and cruelty..

My heart sinks into the endless pit of pain and agony

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What Makes A Mother?

She is the tenderness personified,
She is the patience personalized..

She makes the world bright making your heart enthrall,
She makes everything insight being a pal..

She is the Creator and the Survivor,
She is the Weaver and the Savior,
She does feel a quiver and needs a pamper..

She guides you and moulds you,
She eases you as well teases you,
She is your “MOTHER” she loves you…

A girl, who learns things as she grows, goes out in the world from a family in which no one thought of going further, comes out to be the best...

She goes to a new place; brightens it up... makes it more meaningful...

Then a phase comes when she gets to know that she will be playing a new role... that of a MOTHER.
Here, has to give more than receive. The right thing would be, she learns and expects at not expecting anything. In fact, she's so happy to give that she doesn’t even remember that she also deserves to receive; receive more than what she deserves.
A day dawns when she gets to learn that a new life is coming out of her. Nothing in her life belongs to her; she eats, sleeps, and takes care of herself not for her but for the new life blooming in her.

Enduring pain, she brings her (child) into this world
The moment the child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new

Now the only aspect around which her life revolves is the child’s welfare; making the child’s life meaningful by loving and nurturing the child at all times and seeing to it that she gets the best things in life.


The child grows, receiving love and care from her mother expecting all leisure from her.
Mother's love grows by giving.The mother gives anything and everything possible for her without expecting anything in return.
She lifts the child when it falls; consoles it when the child is down in life
The child’s dream becomes her dreams.
She supports it in all walks of life by guiding her in the path to enlightenment.
The child grows into a beautiful woman; she grows as her mother wanted her to be. They (mother and child) become good friends. They share almost everything.

And suddenly her mother’s life changes; a mishap occurs. Her Mother ignores it. Inside, the mother knows something’s wrong; but she does not want her children to know; until one fine day when they come to know what it has aggravated to – something called Multiple Sclerosis: a no cause, no cure disease...
The mother cant be the same as she used to be… cant be herself anymore… cant do much for herself … tries to get on with life.. Fights life for her children…struggles so that she can endure the pain again… this time so that her child can grow to be a good human being.

She knows that she now can’t do much for them but still tries to stand up thinking that she can still be with her children as always, loving and caring and giving them emotional support.

Time gets tough on her; she’s now living a life she had never thought of; always in pain
Facing this pain is getting difficult, but she knows that her children need her.
Life’s going to get difficult for them without her; and again she tries to endure the pain…
Again she tries fights not knowing what’s destined for her

She sees her children waiting for her to get up. She can’t tolerate the fact that she’s not able to do anything. She knows she has to fight…she tries again…but the time has come…she sees them fading away….she tries to blink…she tries to wake...she attempts one more struggle….maybe her last struggle…..nothing changes…..she’s silent… she ceases to live…………….


The child realizes that everything’s got over and there’s nothing left that she could do. The child feels helpless thinking that she could do nothing for her mother.
She realises how much she has inherited from her mother. In the last few moments her mother taught her how to face life; keep fighting, never lie down and above all learn to be human.

Looking back, she realises that she always had been selfish and mean; receiving and always accepting things without giving the slightest thought to what her mother would have gone through to get it. She had always been demanding be it materialistic or emotional. She always took and never gave.

Now she stands up and looks around and suddenly the thought hits her; she can’t do anything……………

Posted on behalf of my friend

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Waiting………..!!

Its 7:30am and I stand here at the bus stop waiting for the office bus to arrive. I stand here at the same spot as I did a few years back waiting for my college bus. Little did I know then that things would change so much in 1 year; the tree under which I was standing seemed to be looking at me and smiling, perhaps the only living thing that stands as a testimony there, watching the transformation of a loud and bubbly person into a quiet professional. I wouldn't blame the professionalism for the change though.

It is destiny, or may be you could call it life. Yes Life, esoteric in the true sense, for one does not understand why you meet hundreds of people everyday, work with so many, and still remain lonely.

I am now in one of the corner seats in the bus, looking out of the window watching people trying to catch up with "life"! It's an hour's journey and the only company that I generally have is the chatter of the RJ. I seldom notice the person sitting next to me, for its going to be yet another stranger or may be you could say another acquaintance. It is annoying at times when the radio is switched off, not because I am cut off from the melody but because I would now be thrust with the thought of the solitary travel ahead. I can't help thinking about the short bus journeys to college, well it's a paradox to call a distance of 40 kms "short", but that is how it always seemed.

A typical college day always begins in the bus with all the familiar faces; you look forward for all your friends to get in from the various stops, the reasonless giggles, the loud laughter that were stifled to avert the eyes of the lecturers and professors who would watch on us as if we were their prospective prey for the day, well as I said it was a different life then.

The pleasant memories of college are in itself good enough to save me from the misery of the bus journey. I notice that it is time for me to get down and flash my smile of acknowledgement to all the known strangers that I see as I walk towards my cubicle. A few of my project mates greet me with their morning wishes and as always, we exchange our pleasantries. Discussions jump to the weekend plans and I wonder what I'd do over the weekend. It would be just another day staring at the mobile, wishing it would ring and bring back some wonderful moments that are now missing in life or maybe the safer option would be to come to office, for it's my new founded asylum these days. A few years back, weekends or weekdays didn't matter to me, I was always busy. I always stood doubting the authenticity of the wall clock that seemed to be in running too fast to perceive its movement. Alas, now it seems as though my clock is suffering from some kind of paralytic attack.

There is a time in life, where one needs to go ahead, leave behind all your friends and carry along only memories. You do make friends, but then you never get back the same old close ones, you do meet people who'd be so good to you that you could tell them anything and everything, but you'd not find
a person, to whom you needn't say things, friends who just know you.

Occasional calls from such friends, has been the only thing that I seem to look forward to, but I cant help but notice the uneasy pause that lingers around the conversation, pause not because of the relationship, but because it is too short a duration to say everything, and of course you cannot completely rule out the paucity of words!

As I sip coffee from the ubiquitous coffee mugs, watching the drops of rain, trickling down the tinted glass panes, veiling the scenic beauty outside, I tell myself, may be there'd be a day when things change, when life offers a rewind, a recap of all the events, and I'd just have to wait.

Capricious are the ways of life, for I know there would be many who'd be able to empathize with me, ironically, even the dear ones that I miss this moment, waiting perhaps. . . .

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