Sense aint always sensible!

dear diary, or something like it? its just been a good day and i dont feel like reducing it to deductions. today i shall spare myself of alterations. let it get larger than itself, its a day to break beyond. and anyways soon sense shall prevail and weaken all the energies of impulse. so till then, i shall live in the blissful presence of ignorance!

There always is a beginning

Lots need to be drawn, but even more needs to compressed of what is drawn. How exciting is this? When neither you nor they know why the game is being played. Who is the player and who holds the pawns, classical dilemma when an unfolding begins. When occurs a birth. When the colors of creation are to be flown around all over again. heres a piece that speaks for dawn, the last spec of night and the first words of a ray :

ek kashti mein sawaar do lehrein,
ankhein poochti hain,
kidhar ka yeh raasta hai,
raasta poochta hai,
kidhar ke yeh musafir hain.
zameen poochti hain,
kahan tak chale yeh kadam hai,
aasman poochta hai,
kahan se ruki yeh udaan hai,
aankhein poochti hain,
kahan tak yeh safar hai,
to kadam poochte hain,
kab tak yeh raaste milte rahenge?

kabhi dil poochta hai,
kin kin ke yeh sawaal hain,
aankhein jawaab deti hain.....
kehti hain in samundaroon mein bhi kaein saal hai.

kya matlab hai is tanhai ka,
kya matlab in bekhayal khwabon ka,
ujadi neend,
lambi lambi raaton ka?

birth is nothing but the dilemma of an existence, the transition to an identity.