Yesterday night I realized that we do not specifically need any alcoholic drinks to get high. The mind in its various levels of thought stages provides us with that a level of intoxication , that will leave your thoughts high and make you fly. And the best part, no bloody hangovers the next day.
I was reading a book,a very seemingly interesting one, I caught a word from it, the word related to another thought, the thought linked to a memory, and my mind just wandered off somewhere.. When I came back I was at an unknown page, not knowing how I reached till there.
Has the condition worsened so much that I have to meditate now just so that I can complete a book with concentration?
I really don't feel sleepy. And I have all these thoughts running inside my head.Usually when I have these thoughts I turn to FB. But now, FB irritates me. Just like that.. I am too lazy to type why too
I was thinking how long it will take for someone to completely get over the loss of someone. I feel the "till" of till death do us apart is very accurate.Coz, once you are dead, then that's it.
I know everyone has the right to their life. But, i feel very sad when the thought comes that we are not that special, but always and anytime replacable.
What a life.. not pitying my life.. Generally pitying human life.
The more the people you interact with, the more the stories you hear. The more you start living in that world of thoughts and mental images.Like the other day, we had guests over for dinner. Nowadays its all machine made, even rotis. Can't blame anyone for the rising popularity of half cooked chapatis, just thing about all the effort of kneading the dough and rolling out perfect round chapatis it will save. All you have to do is just heat them in the tawa. So anyways half cooked chapatis are a hit nowadays. And its too at my place. Mother in law endorses them and we all have them without any complaints. And frankly I don't find any difference in taste as I feel they are equally tasty as the home made ones.
So we were all having these chapatis, when an uncle said he prefers homemade ones. Then talks about rotis ensured and somebody finally said that rotis which are made by inmates of state prisons are marketed these days and they are the cheapest but the best in taste. This irked the grandmother of the house. Then we came to know that she never allows chapatis made by prison inmates to be bought, because it was made by "those" people. Mental block she says.
This prompted my Father in law to reminiscence something from his past. He said when he was a small kid, there was a guy in the village, some Padmanabhan Nair, fondly called Padmanabhan chettan, who was a helpful hand and well known and liked by all. There was a tea shop owner who was one Kuriakose. These two people were thick friends and so. One day a simple conversation happening in the tea stall between these two changed into a heated argument which led Mr Nair to take the knife from the kitchen and stab Kuriakose, in the spur of the moment. And Kuriakose just dropped down dead.
When Nair looked around he saw some witnesses there, all stunned. Seems that he ran and ran and then he sat down near the canal and started crying. Then after sometime he freshened up, went to the police station and surrendered himself.
A case ensued. But then due to the public likeness of Nair, it seems that no witnesses came forward. Nair confessed the crime and begged for him to be arrested, but the lack of evidence made the court to let him go free.Seems that he cried on hearing this decision. That evening Nair took his life savings and went to the house of the deceased. Kuriakose had leaven behind a wife and 3 kids. He said sorry gave them his money and left. Next day morning he was found hanging in his bedroom. He had killed himself leaving a note which said that he didn't prefer a life of injustice which was not worthy of living.
So that's how the story ended, with a conclusion from my FIL that there might be people so too who are innocent or circumstantial victims, who are trapped by law. And here are greater criminals roaming around free. So, grandma should not see them all with the same eyes and should be open to all
I don't think the story changed ammachi's thought process, but I am sure she enjoyed the narration. But then, who doesn't like a good story to go with good food.. I have seen those chapatis and curry been sold at at the museum gates here in the city. And for sure, Kuriakose and Padhmanabhan nair will occupy my thoughts every time I see those food stalls, for a period of time.. :)
There may be some impossible thoughts which you know will be the best to let go. But then the whisper in your heart says, why leave them behind, for they are the only ones that lightens up your mind, in those days of despair..
It was that kind of love
The one that was cherished and envied
The one that brought a smile on the lips, anywhere. anytime
The one that kept going even in the darkest of times
The one that filled the heart with all the colors of joy But sadly it was one which could never come true
If you have the habit of jotting down stuff, then going through some of your old journals might sound interesting. When i recovered my password and went through my long lost secret blog today, i found out that i am more tamed down and the wild- wanderer like side I prominently had a couple of years back is lost down the lane somewhere.
Reading the stuff I wrote down then, I wonder coz the me now is so into practical life, that the dreamer in me is lost somewhere, and whats now is what this whole material world has molded me to be..Many might feel this is the best way to be, but the the other side is not all that bad, i may say.
Feels should wander off once in awhile, to get in touch with your old self. Expanding your horizons might sometimes give you more satisfaction that the job you have and the money you make..
Blessed are those in trance With no worries or tears And no tug of war for love Just peace, happiness and eternal bliss Like a psychedelic dream in a purple haze.
Suddenly life goes from here to there just like that, and we are left staring at eternity forever. Then maybe those past days goes through our mind and we feel if only..
If those moments come back again, maybe I will not make the same mistakes as I once did..
But then, if those mistakes weren't there would it have made me a better person like I feel that I am today.
It's always like the that, the uncertain nature of emotions
And the call from the other side of the river, for better or for worse who is to know