Again it's a Sunday afternoon The calendar is nearing the end of March and Silences , as if deaf and dumb , seem reigning,just like some monarch . Yet it's a Sunday, but is devoid of a brunch , moreover it seems lacking, even its crunch
Since everything has been put behind the locks , it's the Silence , that is doing only the talk . No sounds whatsoever in the closest vicinity, it's all just grimm outside and covered by a stark ambiguity
Nothing is audible here , but to a sirens few . This standstill, as if approaching for a kill , this is unparallely new . No shouts no rants , only being heard are some sounds of pathetic whispering and the folks are busy with the tiniest gadgets in their hands , scrolling consistently and in the meanwhile, a bit rumoring .
With nobody around , I am doing something like making friends with the Silence. Unheard unseen and unknowable until now , it's feeling like addition of one more online friend. And as I try to monitor , the Silence, it has too many a voices , and different compositions and Inculcating some intriguing parts , it's like some number , ranked highest among the top charts
While studying it further , I am awestruck and alarmed to see the Silence , it had so many layers and so many countless strings . And likewise my moods , it also is compatible to swings , erstwhile which was hard to find , now it's the loudest thing that sings .
At times , the Silence behaves as like a time machine , keeps hovering me again and again to the memorials , that of all my right and wrong doings. It seems to me as if the Silence , it's trying to figure out the meaning of me , as a human being
Stark and alarmingly harsh , it's like some untimely raining alongwith lightenings that blister , and as creepy a thing , 8ts waving at You , from deep down antique cobweb clusters
Moving around and encircling me , this Silence seems to be craving for engulfing me alive , it's like experiencing some zombies walking out of the graves and blessed with a revive
Howbeit , but still , I have to prevent it from striking a deal . I have to hold on to my integrity and all of my ammunition of my fighting skill . I have to gather some unspoken positive vigor and some Life colored zeal
These are moments ,eery , very intriguing and intense But I have survived the viral attack and the disease , and I will survive , even this Silence. ....
@_rainfrost_ after reading your post , I have given it a try . Might be it's not upto the mark with your challenge , but still , give it an eye
As the darkness cripples in And the blackish night crawls Moment by moment Crawling in like a serpent Perhaps... She's carrying the venom too
With the silent venom She's probably going to attack On my thinking On my being Paralysing my feelings Paranoiding my emotions
And probably She's trying to Crumble me to pieces Of agony misery and solitude Dismantling my senses She'll feel pacified ..but not untill then
I know She loves to keep alive The insomniac inside me Scribbling bloody wounds Torturing me like hell She's a sadist for sure...
But then How long she can play with me It's just matter of few hours And then she's to depart And a glorious day will bloom To rejuvenate me To reinstall me ... ....... Perhaps She'll be waiting Posing for another attack When her term comes again But up to that point of time I am free again For being what I am .,. perhaps !
When bread and butter It is the only decorum Wobbly Life, adheres Just to sanctum sanctorum Family and officemate , It's the only Coo Clux Clan Still, do you expect me to go for a travel plan
We are sandwiched between, Just a feeling as like stuck But by virtue of something Or just by sheer luck If I get a ticket To roam around free If I get a chance to stay Away from the mainstreams Then I would like to have A beautiful journey of my dreams
No rocket science in that , it's fairly simple Abundances of NATURE, Beautiful and ample Sounds that serenade the peace of mind My travel ideas are of very basic stuff of kind
Along the countryside, where living is a joy No distractions, disturbances, no horses of Troy That's what I need on a break from the duty Virgin people, Virgin nature and some pristine beauty
Simple delicious Mouthwatering Really healthy foods A walk down the Riverside, a breeze flowing from the woods Glorious sunrises and gorgeous looking sunsets Amusing Life, it resides only amongst your mindsets
One place , which makes you happy and keeps you at ease No other itinerary can be beautiful enough to bring you relief and release No Star studded hotels and neither posh ambiences Can give you revivals better than Nature, for all your griefs and grievances The place which replenishes You from within,and puts you in You, a vigor extreme That place , Mind You , would be the best holiday trip, a destination , just as like a Dream
By now , these troubled times have inculcated in us , some new ideas , some newer SOPs
Now let's use all this Armageddon for the battling ahead __________________
HOME-ISOLATE our attitudes, egos and arrogance
QUARANTINE All inequalities , injustices and intolerances
LOCKED OUT Be all hatred , vandalism, greed and power addiction
HUNKER DOWN All anarchies, fundamentalism ,violence and cruelty
ERADICATE The viruses of poverty,illiteracy ,hunger and corruption
VACCINATE Ourselves with Love , brotherhood care and compassion
Let's commit ourselves to pass on , to our heirs , this beautiful planet , in all its virginity and beauty // Actually we had received it with the same virginity, but with our triumphant desire for maddening progresses, we have made a mess of it So it's we who have to do all the repairs //
So , let's use our all available skillsets and architectural capabilities , to rebuild an all Newer , Better and Beautiful World of tommorow
The title and the last line Hold on , Pain Ends They are courtesy of an unknown writer And shared by @_hessa_
Additional search showed Hold On Pain Ends is the fourth studio album by American metalcore band The Color Morale. It was released on September 2, 2014 through Fearless Records, and was produced by Mike Green and Courtney Ballard.
For the first time, I am seeing the chaos in my mind go numb, as I lay my eyes as far as I could, and all I can hear is a dog barking at a distance. No sound, nothing.
The bustling, and the pandemonium inside my mind seemed to calm itself down as well.
For the first time, I felt as if time had paused. Not a single breath was heard on the streets of the city which used to breathe so heavily that it was impossible to ignore it.
It was as if the city called out to me then, the kind of sounds I heard.
Some days, it was difficult to distinguish between the voices of my mind and the voices outside which I heard constantly. But today, both seems to be quite.
And if there's anything I can hear, it's the ticking of the clock which hangs on my wall, the one which has been there since years, the one which was frequently ignored.
The clock now somewhere defines the voices of my mind. The voices which used to scream were the only voices I heard, at least the ones which I have given importance to, have now stopped speaking.
And the whispers which I had ignored, just like the clock ticking away, are the voices which I hear. And the voiced which I want to hear. The voices which I should have heard.
I have ignored the whispers of a long time, the ones which told me about the good and the better things, the ones which could have prevented me from making decisions that I hold in this vault called regrets.
Just like the clock ticking slowly and steadily, I hear the whispers. Because the world, this city, the streets, are silent. The screaming voices inside my mind are silent.
And the only things that are audible to me are the whispers of my mind and the clock ticking away. The voices which give me a different kind of serene feeling that I have been longing for.
I'd be walking under a sunset sky, Where the pink and peach will be melting Over the red roof of a tired sun. My mind is calm like a winter evening, Silent as a water with no waves, or fish. My feelings have frozen and sunk deeper, And the lotus buds won't hatch in the cold.
So I'd let the winds heal my mind, Resting it like the birds on mahogany trees. Snow on the both sides of paths, Glint as they still have some beauty left in them, Even after falling every year.
The salmon on the horizon, wither a colour colder As the scarlet sun is fainting behind the silhouette of buildings.
A sapphire cloth with endless white sprinkles is all left now. And the night seems to be a perfect masterpiece. But the howling winds soar down to my face, And every breath feels like pouring snowflakes into my lungs.
And I don't want to return home, No, I don't want to miss a moment which I can remember forever. I've been caging myself in those four pale walls, And these days feel like ages. With broken taps where every memory leaked out, But I kept writing pages And one day, I ran out of words.
I take out leftover nostalgias from my numb mind, Sand mounds of warmth everywhere in a picture And rainbows from monsoons of love Locked in crystal jars of memories. The spectre shine lighting the small grass, And the warmth making the breeze better.
By the morning, the serenity fades away And I lose my feels watching everything turn back the same. But each time I remember yesternight, It feels like a different place, It feels like a different time.
Engraved on fine sculptures, In the abode of deities, She is born from the celestial hymns, Of our scriptures and the Sama Veda, Eyes sublime and expressive, Speak of her attractive stance, Of her rhythmic dance.
Wearing anklets and armlets, And Kohl on her gleaming face, Bangles on her wrists, do adorn And jewels of silver and gold, For luscious braid so brown, She descends from heaven, To create a new heaven here. Her embroidered skirts, of red and yellow, Depict her fierceness and sensitivity, She is sure a divine miracle, Reaching the pinnacle, of tranquility, Of peaceful embodiment.
When the rays embrace her, In the early hours of morning, She regains her alacrity, And awakens the spirit of India, She inspires a poet's words, A painter's imagination, A musician's acoustic notes, And in everyone, A passion and dedication, For his consecrated duties..
She pours sweet nectar, Dripping from her soul into our hearts, She is indeed chiseled on stones, but is an immortal depiction of ART.
The violet evening faded away slowly into the darkest night she had ever seen in her past days, but she still heaved a sigh; of happy and heavy feelings. Staring at the heaven above, her eyes shimmered with dew-like tears and rapid heartbeats. The moon was shining, fully visible. So were her painful emotions sketched on her pretty madonna face. She started whispering some words and smiled a beautiful contented smile.
Just as her tears were about to cross a blink, a voice was heard, " I am not willing to disturb you, but Mrs. Wilson has been asking for your presence for she has not seen you for the past half an hour, I do speak fast and that is of a great concern for my parents..I hope you won't mind my ways". The boy paused a bit and began again, " I am so sorry, I forgot my manners! I am Dylan Anderson, your neighbours next door. And congratulations, Alicia, for achieving such a nice score in your annuals. Now let me tell you, all are missing you downstairs, the party's incomplete without you! So please come and grace the occasion."
Alicia smiled a weak smile and stared at the sky for a few more seconds. Dylan, impatient as he was, again questioned her, " Do you mind me asking you what you were doing here alone? I mean it's your party and you ought to be there...."
"Oh, it's nothing, I was just having a private conversation with my dear friend".
"I can't see anyone around nor do you have your cell phone... though"
Alicia started to laugh at his queries. She turned towards him and looked into his eyes. Then, looking towards the dark night sky coloured in eigengrau, she slowly and mysteriouly whispered, "He is there, his face is shining like the full moon. He was wishing me for my future and was comforting me. I am able to hear him clearly and see him as happy as he was never before. I am so proud of myself because I made him proud, Dylan! I am so much proud...." Her words had a magical effect on her companion upstairs and he began to smile at her amusement. Then, slowly and firmly he again asked her, " How will your words reach him above?"
Alicia wiped her unfallen tears and beamingly responded, " We don't need a cellphone to hear our supressed voices, Dylan. Our relation is so delicate, fragile yet unique, that even the stars will convey my intentions to him. They are quite enough...". She took a breathe and cleared her choked voice and brightly held Dylan's hand and said, " C'mon, what are we waiting for? Let's enjoy today and have a blast!"
Dylan understood right away what he was supposed to know earlier. On the other hand, Alicia knew in her deepest corners of her heart that her lovely daddy would know too, what he would have loved to experience and see, for the stars were enough to gossip to him about all chronicles in the heaven below.....