Life-The cemetery of Hope

The changing time, the overcasting sky, the lashing waves ...What does  it speaks to you ? Is it about a lost game or is it about the new plots getting set???The innumerable interpretations that ones makes falls short of reality and the magnitude of reality getting sprayed on the canvas of your imagination is nothing but a mirage of hope. The characters that longed for a life in the world of your expectations takes an early death even without the last goodbye message to the creator. The poison pill of the present that they are made to swallow is a privilege to the trapped imaginations within the cages of your crave. Even to those life bleeding chimera, survival is a distant dream as you strive in the reality forgetting the dream for future that you had knit. When the days sets the plot for the plays, the nights remain mere rehearsal grounds and  your dreams the watchdogs from the pulse of reality. Its said the bright days remain the gratifying phenomenon's of hope when all that you had hoped for remain wrapped in the abyss of darkness. Its strange to know what we learn in this life is not from what we have lived but form the life we have forgotten to live. The hopes that flew away ,the smiles that forgot the way to our faces the emotions that stared not knowing what's intended from them all remain buried in the vast cemetery called life. And we remain the scavengers pecking at what's thrown to us by life.

The Part Of A Part

Completeness is a lucrative phenomenon that haunts everyone alike. In the part completeness one finds the comfort of absoluteness. The part of the complete is always a partial in its sense but for many that part is nothing but redemption. A warm sunny day breaks apart with the reverberation of a thunder paving its way for the sky to go to labor. The deep romance of the sun and the earth is nothing but a part from the complete. In this partial existence is what one finds life. It’s said, the words have meanings and interpretations but do reality have one?

What I have lived is just a part, the part of a part, or  the part of the past well time has to decide. On the magical rug of time I rub with nothing but bewilderment of thought and understanding. I am no looser neither gainer too what I am is just survivor of a lost trade. well this partial existence in this partial planet of the universe is what that brings completeness to the partial bit of thought we pocess. The incomplete words, the left out emotions, the forgotten smile, a reluctant glance the unsaid apology the forgotten appreciation is all but the left out part of a complete truth that stays behind in this complete partial life. Yes we are incomplete, in our thoughts in our life’s and in our reasons of existence. But still we survive and keep on competing to remain incomplete.