• amal_soulsyllables 3w

    #soulsyllables @writersnetwork

    if you love someone, don't fucking chit-chat on the phone; make some time and actually show up! it's way more sexy!

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    The Whatsapp trap

    neither cit, acit or ishwara
    nor ashtakshara, dvaya or charama shloka
    can help you sing your blues
    out of the whatsapp trap:
    neither tat, tvam or brahman
    nor deep lucid sushupti
    can encipher the
    medusa's hair of
    the whatsapp trap:
    neither the grace of vyasa through sanjaya
    nor dharma aligned swabhabha
    can reveal vijnana to your sankalpa
    if your maanaseeka is entrapped
    in the twenty-first century invention
    of the whatsapp trap:

    love has become cheap today,
    it has become the blind beggar's eyesight,
    it has become the conard of the magic lantern,
    it has decomposed itself from
    the diathesis of the venerate
    to the jejune of the dilettantist,
    it has grown quixotic off-shoots
    of fastidious reverance for the self
    as opposed to the unconditional simplitude
    of Sita's white drape refusing to submit,
    it has forgotten its friendship
    with loyalty and ardor,
    it has become selfish and protective and dubious,
    it has succumbed to technology
    and has learnt the art of
    camouflage and silent treatment,
    it needs to first receive
    in order to then give,
    or better yet,
    it has given up on giving
    and counts totally on recieving,
    it now tries to squeeze itself into
    whatsapp emoticons and statuses
    as opposed to
    its previous bold poetic and sacrosanct nature,
    so much so that
    poetry is now considered cheesy
    and revealing of true feelings
    is seen as weakness
    as Coach Corey likes to profess,
    and we're all fools
    falling for it:

    and we're all fools
    falling for it,
    falling for the bluff
    that is 'whatsapp bonding',
    totally ignorant of the fact that
    loves requires presence,
    true human presence,
    it requires touch,
    it needs to see deep into you
    and for you to see deep into it
    in order to glimpse one another's universes,
    it needs to feel your warmth
    as well as your silence,
    it needs to get turned on
    by your efforts to keep her,
    it needs to hold your hand
    as you walk through the lanes
    of your memories that have shaped you,
    it needs to get a sense of your soul
    when you laugh in that weird way that you do,
    it needs to gently roll its fingers
    upon the scars on your right hand
    that were probably caused by the
    spit of a tarantula and that remind you
    of the horrors of your bygones,
    it needs to wonder about you
    when you're not there;
    and sometimes love becomes unsure too,
    and in all fairness,
    it should be allowed to,
    it indulges in self-pity too,
    it becomes the hermit of Ayodhya,
    it dares you to live without her
    not because she hates you
    but because she wants to know
    whether you could afford to lose her,
    and so, it's your duty then
    to pick her up
    and hold her with your might
    in order for you to see
    the cosmos dance in her beautiful delicate feet,
    and you'll know what neverland is all about,
    neptune itself will invite you
    to share its majesty
    and baby phoenixes will
    reveal their secret:

    and in all honesty,
    if i were to cleanse myself of hypocricy,
    i too had once fallen
    in the whatsapp trap,
    i too had confused being besotted
    for being in love,
    and i too had laid bare all of my soul
    through one-dimensional interactions
    and late night chit-chats
    and i'd still feel empty,
    i'd still be seeking something more real,
    i'd still be seeking validation
    not in words
    but in actions,
    not in goodmorning texts
    but in random quaffs of togetherness;
    effort is what turns me on,
    it always has,
    because effort unveils intent
    and intent is more warming than outcome,
    effort was what set Lanka on fire,
    effort was what taught baby falcons their flight,
    effort was what shaped the pyramids,
    effort was what got the five brothers victory;
    effort is the square root of dedication,
    effort is the axiom of unconditionality,
    effort is the house that marriages thrive in,
    effort is the language that twin flames speak;
    and so,
    dear folks,
    next time, when you think of your love,
    reach out to them
    and make that effort,
    spend that night with them,
    go that extra mile,
    don't be so fucking self-centred,
    because love is real if it is felt,
    it becomes unreal if it is analysed: