A small window from which I view my world
I call it mine and yet I feel alien in it
Strange and stranger still as I walk out
Seldom do I fall in line with others
Who talk and live, I watch with fascination
The love and the warmth
The jealousy and the conceit
I retreat and yet my window waits
Comforting, I view the world
Away from prying eyes.
I have been silent about 2017 so far as I do not really believe in making resolutions or wishing luck in the new year so on and so forth. According to what I study, time is an illusion but that is a story for another day.
Today, I’d just like to point out the highlights of this month. The year began with a little bird watching.
This is the blog of my friend, Sutirtha, who was kind enough to let me tag along one of his bird watching walks.
Then a few days ago, I went touristing to Agra. I had never been to see the Taj Mahal and this trip was organised so I could finally see it.
We did not stop there. We went ahead to Fatehpur Sikri, the final resting place of Saleem Chisti. We saw Akbar’s court and his personal harem too. It was amazing to see the lifestyle the Mughals used to have. Such grandness and poise, larger than life.
And ofcourse, I cannot resist but pose whenever I get a nice background.
Do not walk away from the path of peace
Be ruthless if that is what you want to achieve
Write odes, write sonnets, write all kinds of couplets
but do not walk away from the path of joy
Be strong to fight for what you deserve
Hold on tight, be not gentle in your grip
The walls may collapse, you hold your ground
Weep for all its worth, cry for peace in your feeble heart
Know who keeps it right and fight for the cause
The tears will wash away the blackness in your soul
Leaving you to wonder, leaving you warm in the cold.
Those pages I filled, put ink on paper
Those words I wrote, my heart and my soul
Now you know.
What is hidden, all that is in me
The bitterness, the negativity
Now you know.
The fact remains that I love you so
To look you in the eye as you look in mine
For now you know.
Exposed, I stand
No barriers anymore, no secrets
that you don’t know.
When you say independence, we think of freedom.
Freedom from what?
I am free. No one holds me down except the society norms but that cannot be changed in the near future. So except that, I am free.
But no. I am not free. I am a prisoner of so many instances, people, situations and emotions. Its countless as to what weighs us down.
In the end, only death liberates us all. But death is horrifying and hence freedom is horrifying. That is why people cringe from change, in fear of being independent or exposed.
Why am I writing all this? I have been thinking about my freedom and would I consider living by myself a kind of freedom? And the answer that came to me was no.
I can never be free.
After watching the second episode, I was pulling my hair out and saliva was dripping off my mouth because I forgot to swallow and close my mouth as my jaw did totally drop down to the floor. Mycroft and Sherlock have a sister???!!! And that too an evil one???!!! Its as absurd as it can possibly be and what do they give in justification ‘It is what it is’?I mean come on! On one side you would think what a nice little person with a cute British accent, too thick than normal but still nice and she turns out to be a bigger psycho than anyone on that show! She shot John!I have a strong hunch that she is Moriarty! She led all those people to make Sherlock dance on her fingertips! They kept on dropping hints but man, was I wrong!Also Mrs Hudson! She is a badass! I loved the way she was written in this episode, strong and in control!This totally made up for the last episode’s disappointment. Now I am sad that there is just one more left and then another bout of dry spell for 2 years.Not fair, Sherlock!
Source: MindBlown By Sherlock
Turning just slightly, I might not be missed
Fear, of being forgotten by those who said would remember
All lies. I will die.
No one will know, no one will care
I will fade, like the light
In to the dark abyss of the night
Who will ever know of my plight
Of my sorrow and my fight