Forgive me father

Forgive me father, for I have committed the sins.

Forgive me father, for I have hurt people.

Forgive me father, for I have wrote the truths which were to be kept hidden.

Forgive me father, I have narrated the stories of people and cause them more pain.

Forgive me father, that I am not ashamed of what I have done.

Forgive me father, for another sin I am about to commit. For the sins, I am going to blame you for.

O father, I just narrated some stories in words but thy say, you are the one who weaves the warps and weft of the narration. It’s you who should be blamed when one betrays the truth. You are supposed to hold their hands when you see them falling the cliff. For lord, you the worthy, has command over the deeds of ones act.

I just penned down those sins which your child has committed in my narratives.

Forgive me father, if you still believe that man has control for his actions. Due, I believe, under your command the earth was created, so is each story and so is each sin.

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I lost GOD

I had heard about the existence of God in early childhood, and it took me youth to discover him.  One fine day I met him. I could sense his existence and it made me a believer. I knew he was God since his presence made everything easier in life. His touch was soothing as river; he was fragrant as fresh rain of draught. He brought calm to my lonely senses.  And till the time it was recreation in my dope days.

And then I lost God.

I remember reading the scribbles of holy books stating, he who is flawless, brings cherish of heaven to the worthy.  The God, I met was not flawless. He came with his own demons. He came with Midas touch; what could turn anything into gold with his fine words but he needed words of affirmation to claim self-worth.

Does God need words of affirmation? Or God is hungry for another love?

And then I read, God is not just available to those who abide by his laws but to them who seek him with needs.  I believe God is equally needy.  He creates his own child and he discriminates against them in the name of Faith. He needs the words of affirmations from those who don’t believe in his worth.

Mine was same. He left me; for his own search for happiness.

Wall of prayer

I am in my calm for last two days. I say, this is the seat of my meditation. I find my inner peace looking on to concrete walls holding few images I captured across the lanes of my journey.

Someone once said to me, Art is a religion. Follow it from heart and brain will get enlightened itself. I never knew the meaning of said lame words until I felt it from here.

Holding in peace, my tears run out in pieces and I see the white halo of serenity.

If love could not bring me peace, I am thankful to the one who pushed me into the world of art.

If art is religion, I must say, love is prayer. And I must pray for everyday till the tiny box engages me to the living soil.

Sailing through hurricane

There were few supplies in my yard, supposed to last a week or two for those days when love met hurricane.

People flocked in with the words of empathy and sympathy, showering kindness of the greater glory for a peace ending. For few days, the yard was full of hearings and chattering, then gradually the silence started prevailing.

In the days of impatience, I was not ready to yield. I wanted to run off to a distance where my own voice could be reached, my screams could be loud enough to roll down on my cheeks. But never the less, the yard supply didn’t give me the chance.

After days of hurricane, when peace restored and my yard is empty. All I have nothing but the time to think and clean the clattered mind. I wish, it was as easier as cleaning my closet. But the hidden drawers keeping cropping up.

There are scrapes of memory and celebrations, I can’t rid off. There is huge silence of lonesome days and nights but my screams lost their voice. I want to catch the train, which is running fast ahead of me, but then I feel my feet tied to the bundle of bricks sinking me into the river of my own malady.

They say, peace prevails post a hurricane. What they don’t know, is the silence of broken hearts which sails to meet the mean less destiny.

Halt

The blue petal of moron sun rise, once told me

“What worth is living if living is not live alike?”

I could not understood the phrase until it grew on me

I run for work, I run for money and then I spend the money on running behind luxuries. And the vicious circle continues.

A hold is not bad. The hike is long and tiring. The stroll is worth enjoying the scenery. From the emerging boundaries of fresh experiences, a halt for introspection is plausible.

It happened to me when I had to take a ten floor stairs by foot because of broken elevator, that I realised the beauty of heights. The delicate geometry of stairs made of stone and cement.

How I wish, I could steal such moments of life and cherish the strides of life. An effort is required, to sit, ponder and catch up that lost breath.

Let there be unanimity in life, what makes it life, is the learning and virtues of life.

Good sex, Great sex

Good sex is better but great sex; a rare.

When the system hangs, a reboot is required. But the moment brain hangs, a good sex is always welcoming. It over rides the mess pool of emotions and starts the system a fresh.

I wish, the good sex was as easily available as the refresh button of my P.C. . How on a click, the brain could be wiped off suspending apps.

Chemically, it is said that having sex enhances release of endorphins which elevate the long depressed mood. May be that’s the reason people hunt for random sex than a meaningful one.

Random sex is free of its baggage but a meaningful is derived with the overageing saga of love.

Matter or not, having sex is always healthy for brain. But in this era of hustle bustle a great sex is seldom luxury.

Swiping right…

Are we gonna un-match even after a right swipe??

We choose a right swipe or left based on few selected images and a short description (if provided). In a selected ten right swipes, the probability of hitting a conversation is less than ten percent.

And even those ten percents fail to be productive.

Recently, I cleared my list of matched probabilities and started afresh. I wonder, why didnt any of them, hit past a week.

I could not resolve until now when I swiped another right.

With every new swipe, I have different expectations and hope. Based on the short description and few images, I try to judge the person and build up my future expectations from the profile. Some times, those expectations crumble in first day itself when the match never gets established.. even if there is a match, I fail to concur that my expectations with the profile are not getting matched.

Concurrently it’s not the profile we need to swipe right, it’s the expectations we need to match. How if in the profiles, we start adding our expectations along with the description we provide? Will that work??? I still need to face. Until then, I will unmatch my swipes till the expectations are co-incidentally matched.