Splinters

Everyone wants to say everything

Everyone wants to speak everything coming in his thought. But (s)he is unable to do it because of the limit of the language. Thoughts are like clouds. It doesn't require any language. It is a state of the mind. If thoughts are in any language, everybody will become Dostoevskys.

Like clouds moving in the sky, thoughts are  moving through the mind. There are small intervals between each piece of thought. It is silence, the great pacifier, the rhythm of life and death, the harmony of the existence; one should try to listen that silence.

Emotions are also like thoughts   

Yes, emotions are like balloons, floating in the air like kites, yellow, green and red, the string is in our hand. There are spotted ones also. Some are with beauty spots; some are with permanent black spots. All are inflated with nothingness. Inside is hallow, the complete absence of content, only a thin skin... Just a pin prick...........

Emotions are ragged in it's original nature, assurance and betrayal are the two sides of a coin. It is like light and shade. Everything exists in opposites.

And destiny is like a pond

The pond is like perumthachan's pond. it is at the same time square, round and rectangle.. The water is murky and at the same time clear and green. When it is clear you can see the glittering Perl at the bottom. If you jump into it to snatch the Perl from it's heart the water will become murky, the Perl disappears. This is the hide and seeks of destiny. How do people fall in to the murky pond?, deliberate?, accidental? or circumstantial?, why all the ponds are murky?.

  

Strangers

We are Strangers caught in a frigid social circle.  We are strangers to ourselves too. If I look into the mirror I always see a stranger looking at me, imitating my every action. I not even know where am I sitting, in my head? in my heart? leg? hand? Am I the conglomeration of all these? Where am I come from?  Where am I heading to?               To whom am I asking questions?