A state of boredom

Ennui is my enemy
A state of non-action
Numbs me into senselessness
And, takes away from my effort
To try and do and create
Life seems an endless chasm of boredom
With routine, mindless tasks
Some pleasure, some pain
Family who loves us and friends who come and go
Talk of education, career, marriage, children and fulfillment
What an utterly joyless way of living life
Where duties are done, we do what's required to keep a state of equilibrium
An atmosphere of so-called peace that we are supposed to thrive in
Except the thought of these things leave me bored
If a state of mind is dictated by factors, external or internal
Why don't we listen to their call?
Why limit ourselves?
Sometimes I think suffering is the only thing that makes us feel alive
Yet, nobody chooses to suffer, nobody plans to take difficult paths except those with conviction
Then us of the middle lot are indeed doomed
To live in a life under-lived for the lack of effort to immerse oneself
Passion remains a far away dream enjoyed by the special lot who chose to take the hard road by choice
And the rest of us are left to settle for the mediocre
And express their predicament in mild rants like these

Capricious

A list of songs reflect my mood
Sad or happy, I don't know
bittersweet yes, whimsical more
But most, I guess they seem to show
The clouds bind the sun that shines
And the sun pierces through the rain
The wind will blow the clouds away
The rainbow will not last the fray
There seems to be a truth, infinite and deep
That I seem to swivel on
Like a ballet dancer in fast spin on her toe
Blurry images of beauty leave me tired
For want of them, to succumb to them
Yet, to tear myself away is to bid painfull farewell
Of the web of truth I spun myself
Large and intricate it was, where everything had it's own place
Yet I withdraw on my own
It proved to be yet another farce
Should I be tossed about like a boat on the ocean?
Or should I steer my own way home?
Is it a bit of both or a little of none?
Truth is I am neither.
It turns out, nothing can be taken for granted
I open my arms to let the winds of change take over
Yet, here I am as hard as wall
Which lets nothing through
There is something odd about this predicament
It is not in my nature
I feel a different person
Left aflutter in the air
Yet tied down to something.
Why am I not able to let go?

Not just a song

Oh you the waning moon of my sunnyness
The echo's call that never returns
I wait and hope for something more
While pretending you were never acquainted with me before
I thought I could do without you, and the truth is I still can.
But at the same time, life seemed to me deeper with you around
What distant, broken memories you bring me?
What secrets do you tell from my past?
Why this odd feeling of closeness which does not come easy?
Why is that I can do without you, yet there is none else like you
How is it that choosing to deny your significance make me feel like I am denying myself the joy of the quiet release that comes at the close of a struggle?
While you stand vertical and stay unmoved, without a word
I hop through a lawn blooming flowers of restless frustration
Hoping and trying to forget you
Emphasizing to myself, that I don't need anybody.
An attempt to take precaution against the next big storm
I need to understand that the greatest storm has passed
And it has firmed up my shore for the better
So, while I pine for all the ways you could be mine
I realise you may never be mine
For it is a story with no ending
To make you mine and me yours, defeats the purpose
Yet, the world knocks on my door importantly, impatiently and incessantly
Signalling, the crossroad has come.
The world has ways of showing us paths the soul cannot fathom
Were you just another whisper which caressed my ear and showed me the way?
Please answer.

Back to the beginning

It rained today
I could tell of its coming by the sombre greying of the skies
And the way the earth seems to heave a great, big sigh to spread the aroma of a second coming
Such a purely divine smell it was, pure and unpolluted.
Untouched by ugliness, like how things first were
Before we were fed the apple from the Garden of Eden
In a world full of innocence and child-like wonder
Of unbridled gushing and blinding happiness
When the "walls of perception were indeed cleansed"
Before you grew up and life brought with it
self-limiting walls of conformity catered to individual lives
Before you grew up and became a jaded version of your former self
Before life was in a constant state of jeopardy in the fight of what we see as good versus evil
Before thoughts and feelings dictated to you the person in you
Before you chose to speak about all of the above
Back to a time when you saw the world as a child's playground
Before you grew up and become a jaded version of your former self
Half-hoping to go back to the beginning
Where we came from
How do we go back to that state?
Untainted and immaculate
For a life has to be lived, for a life to be overcome
This is what the rain brings to me today

Life is a dream

Life is a dream and we are merely puppets
Co-existing with each other and creating our individual spaces for growth and reflection
Being dragged upwards by the current that also seem to drown us at times
Thrown offshore, wrecked on the jagged rocks or lounging in the sweet sunshine on the beach
Yet we claim to hold the reign, while reality slip through our fingers like sand
Creating spaces which we try so hard to fill with our own doing
We build ourselves, our homes and lives - with work, play, leisure and abandon. What next?
Softly repeated phrases of wisdom and encouragement hold little meaning for those who believe
Life is a dream and we are merely puppets

Idyllic daydreams go lost like wisps of cotton floating too far to reach little fingers who chase it with glee
While people's lives scream melodrama like characters in stories of Shakespearean proportions
Others thrive in the comfortable familiarity of circumstances daring not to challenge themselves for the sake of loss
Life's presents come by like shiny, wrapped packages for us beneath the Christmas tree
As people bump, meet, interact and part ways, so the heart is pleased, warmed, melted, broken and healed
We choose our Gods, we call Him different names- we choose the single most emotional bond or the lack of it
We use our brains to analyse, understand, defer and interpret -our endless calculations create logic and reason
We like to be in control of our lives, we like to steer our lives in path befitting but repeatedly losing sight
That we are only colours being woven into the universal quilt crafted by the master weaver
An idea which holds little meaning for those who believe
Life is a dream and we are merely puppets