All this talk of love, love lost
Joys and sorrows -
Of inexplicable thoughts
Of death; worse, fear of death –
Its fine for a solitary afternoon
Or a late night when you have
The freedom to brood…
All you have to do is to regurgitate
The stale memories.
Though the utter pointlessness of the exercise
Hits one like a blast of cold air
And one shudders as the blizzard
Of loneliness shrouds the self.
********** Balachandran, Trivandrum 19-12-2008
The other day this thing hit me unawares. There is nothing called past or future. They all exist together with the present. In something envoloping the whole that is consciousness...memories, dreams and realities are part of the indivisible whole. We need not seek the difference between them. Because the difference is an illusion.
ReplyDelete...The cosmic joke.
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