Painting a dream or Not

Its been a nice day so far. Lovely weather, beautiful music and encouraging problems to work with. It was even better yesterday. Hot chocolate, excellent weather and no problems to work with for at least half a day. But does my life succumb to such days, the intricacies of the events, the thoughts behind them or the people in picture? 
I don't know. What I do know is, I love to paint my dream. A dream with colors or in  monochrome, a dream with passion or silence-may be a dream of another dream. If I look back, I see myself as someone who loved discipline, had a peculiar way of surviving things-loved being monotonous. Here I see myself today and I am astonished..how did I survive this way for so long. Being vaguely outrageous but mostly a humdrum existence!
It occurs to me that the scenario will gulp me in future too and I will have no reason to escape. How I fear it all of a sudden. My survival strategy is..just paint. I paint my dreams, in thoughts, on paper, on walls, on cupboards, anywhere...everywhere. Its for me, only for me and for no one. Painting a dream has been horrifying. Imagine something in the middle of the night, unable to sleep-do what? Take a brush and start. Its an experience unexplainable. Its comforting amidst vague thoughts, it gives an unusual strength to live another day-to see how the colors look the next day. Do they exhibit familiar feelings or are they instantly dead the moment you sleep and gain existence the next moment you dream?
It hurts to dream that way, messing my fingers up with colors having no meaning at some point in time. It challenges my belief, my integrity, my strength and also my tomorrow or a tomorrow which is never mine!
I think I am done with such failing or falling moments- painting doors or feeling elated. I need to take charge of my own reality, dream is always a part of it though. I may not paint it, may not even think about it and I know it may just remain a goal far fetched. Still, I would try to cage myself for the sake of clarity. May be someday soon I shall visualize the road, the trees or the sky like I did as a child. I once again shall dance in the rain, care whether or not my feet gets dirty or I fall terribly sick. The sparkling drops touching my eyes and cheeks would reveal all the answers to my naive queries or not so naive uncertainties. I would crave to paint then too, but I wont. Or may be I shall just paint-but without a 'dream'.

Numb Tree

A tree couldn't speak, it was not meant to but to see and be there. A firm and grounded one waiting for passers by. People would always admire the tree for its beautiful branches, the relief during summers, the warmth during winters and protection from the stormy and windy nights. There came men and women, animals, birds, serpents, couples,  loners, pessimists, optimists, indifferent as someone or no one. 

This tree enjoyed varied seasons, strange moods of people and chaos in itself. It shed leaves, it grew greener, sometimes older, sometimes newer-new branches sky high, new leaves sinking under gravity; a fine one it was. The only concern-it could not speak. There was a sense of joy in watching the immediate surrounding being healthy and bubbling with zeal, sometimes with uncontrollable passion. It made the tree alive even though it was grounded...it could still fly high, seek pleasure in being a mere spectator. 

There came a season of bliss. A tree changing its colors was unique-different branches, different shades. All catering to different needs or may be there was no worry of need. The tree never slept, it waited for people to rest under it. It wanted to care for them day and night. It was actually restless. But can a tree afford to experience it? It was grounded. It couldn't run behind its onlookers or admirers. Could it weep if people tried to pluck its leaves or cut its beautiful branches...no..it had to be numb. It had to derive things from the ground, from the sky..to sustain-stand tall whatever may happen. The bliss was an unstable one, but stability for a tree was a dream. It had faced extreme fluctuations in the wind, the wrath of furious sun and how could it blame fellows for being unstable! ..it had to help them. It was there to care, for shelter. It felt the numbness building up, filling its trunk with fear-its integrity was challenged.

To this day, the tree exists with its eyes wide open and numb branches. Sometimes figures arrive, rest and go. It waits for another bliss. But may be this time there is some expectation. Something from itself, not from the beings. It knows that it is equally alive as others. It just has to suck it in, from the roots-breath fresh air. It may not fear being on the edge and watching its roots loosing grip. The soil is loosing its hold..rain, storm and all of them conspire. But the tree has time to contemplate. May be today it can't chase or choose who may come and rest. May be tomorrow it might die and re-grow into a beautiful bird, free..for itself and meet similar beings who care to fly independent...may be its a wish.

You Win if you feel so.

When the world is busy crying for more, some do really know the worth of getting something. Especially women who have been struggling to a make a mark in this so called advanced and 'fast' society which I really doubt. Everyone is struggling at his/her own front to be at peace. Achieve things in life, be proud, make immediate-loved ones and neighbors proud. But has one ever thought how arduous it could be sometimes to even convince the very fact that you need to study. 

Yes, I have seen many in my extended family who were given options to study, rather educate themselves-they didn't choose that path and yes ironically there were also women who desperately wanted to do something in life, study hard, make there presence felt-but failed. Blame it on time or the situation. Its till hurts to see some talents getting rusted, lost in time. But they choose that, out of whatever reason and today they stand successful in there own front. They make a house complete and may be someone's life complete too...that's there pursuit of happiness.  It brings tears to my eyes reading or listening to stories or incidents where lot of women today are unable to jump-off that so called high boundary of or society which begins at your own level of a small 'family'. They despite of being industrious, are being labelled as marriage commodity are being dispatched to other places ...the fad being out of country. You see going abroad with an NRI husband is really a great deal!  It sounds more like an achievement, where you may have to cook for life but ya not in India but in NY may be.

On the other hand, there has been a couple of incidents and nowadays with some support and a lot of effort a handful of them do succeed in getting educated. There enthusiasm is so convincing to their parents that they break all barriers..small ones but hard enough to stop your evolution. I have seen women going against their parent's will and performing extraordinarily well in India and abroad, especially when they were forced to get married and they somehow managed to get out of it. I feel happy about that. At least there potential is being justified and same parents feel proud talking about it all around. 

It does take guts and strength and faith of few great people in life. A teacher, a friend, a well wisher may be, a motivation from a simple thing, anything but yes faith in yourself being the modifier of everything. No matter how the mob around makes you feel, portrays you like you are no one and do not fit into the Men's logical world, you realize what you went through, where you cried and stood up for yourself and how hard it was for you to even face the society including you parents. So someone who answers back, a tit for tat for all those who never appreciated your strength but criticized ..not for the good, has truly achieved what she aimed for. When you can smile at the non-existent natives,  the ever complaining beings and still do what you have been trying to-you win and from then on your life starts. I am proud of such people and see myself and my experiences somewhere in this all along.

Being..

Stand wherever you are and the whole world shall seem moving. If you are dizzy with the people in it, stand still-hold on. Whatever happens in and around is always a consequence of what you have thought, done and been a part. The decision and choice is always open but the choice to choose itself has been the most difficult part.

Now You cannot go back to things and rectify them if you ever wanted to, because everything has had its own meaning and importance at that point of time. If you have a feeling of sinking and loosing yourself ..then stand still. It passes, with time and more so again with time. Actually, contemplating doesn't help at all. Its a pain most of the times as we keep grilling ourselves in it. Its not a healthy exercise at all, especially when you feel you are standing alone in the river banks and you don't even know if you are waiting for someone or you want to just 'be' in the moment.

This loneliness is just like a mirage. Its so damn allusive sometimes that you cannot be sure if want to be in that state or not. Sometimes it feels like its only you and the air you inhale-exhale..and sometimes its like it chokes your body and soul-can't breath! How can be it be conflicting. Well seeing yourself or the immediate beings, happy  feels so painful sometimes. Not because you don't like yourself or them to be happy- just that you feel perturbed, rather clueless. You cannot blame yourself for being unhappy, you just got to revisit yourself, express your worth to yourself. Its a state of mind, a strange psychology. Its not your character-but a phase. You deal with it hard enough, make your space again and try to move.

The same faces become a butt of joke, the names which once made you shaky, seem worthless. You wait for that vigor in you. It does happens, it actually happens all the time. You just have to move with time and relatively stand still to your killing surroundings. Its a survival game. Winning or loosing is a weird state but surviving the game is what makes it worth. Persistence decides what is your present and how would you be in your forthcoming games. I hope the game never ends, tears never stop-it would build you and break you and freaking self will simply love it!

Hollow victory

Hollow smile,
fake and drowning-
Renunciation.

He stares, as a child.
I see the day light,
wait for it to die.

Tears, colours
all together they
dance on my floor,

and I let him
dance too, in my
garden, the spring-

blooms, glowing
and trying to make
me happy, Laugh

at my misery.
The buried lives
become visible.

Obscure, alive-play
tricks on mind
like a five year old

Playing with mother.
There is love, hate
anger-love again.

What have I done
to learn this game!
Or is it something else?

The warmth, the fire
the touch, the prick
the trance, the gloom.

All of them burnt
into pieces or ashes.
They will not rise

Again in this spring.
the smile will be 
still, rejuvenating.

No pain, embracing
beauty and clarity-
No judgement I say.