Tag Archives: move on

Feeling Low is Natural

Feeling low is one among the repertoire of emotional expressions that we possess. And we must not shun it. We should learn to revel in it, and at times, even exploit it productively. We do know of beautiful sad songs, right? Those wonderfully touching plots and poems? I bet people might not have composed them in happier states of mind.

Feeling Low is Natural

So well, you do get a little low at times, and that’s , and that’s natural. But then after permitting yourself the indulgence, you pick up the shreds, project a castle in the air and start making your way towards it; step by step.

Step by step. Holding yourself. Yeah, that’s more like it!

Wisp of Air

(regurgitating an old post)

As I look out of the window
And see my home pass by
I realize that years have passed
Time has flown
There must be my marks in that house somewhere
A wisp of my breath lingering
Some evidence that I had once lived here
And that house was but my belonging
The street outside must have my footmarks
Certainly the marks of the cycle I rode
My school must still have my mischief in its corridors, I’m sure
And the where I played;
Oh, the trees must recognize me surely

But I realize
There are new dwellers now
The home, the street, the school, the garden
Which I once called mine, are someone else’s now
For my marks were only temporal
I had no claim
The stay was short
But the desire strong
In the scheme of things
I have moved on
I will move on
Guess, I’ll hardly be anywhere
But for a minutiae, a blip
And a lingering wisp of air…

Row the boat

To a golden land
I could have moored
Climbed up the ladders
And then even more

But did I?
No.
Sounds inane
May be I was blind or dense
Or plain insane

Oft I regret
And oft I fret
At times I wonder
If some place else’s where
‘I’ really wanted to tread

Far away
From what all say is ‘all’
To somewhere abstract
Some place yet unknown

And guess, I’ll just keep on rowin’ the boat
The will always be on
I’ll stop while I can
And enjoy the scenes as they come

Wisp of Air

As I look out of the window
And see my home pass by
I realize that years have passed
Time has flown
There must be my marks in that house somewhere
There must be a wisp of my breath lingering
There must be some proof that I had once lived there
And that house was but my belonging
The street outside must have my footmarks
Certainly the marks of the cycle I rode
My school must still have my mischief in its corridors
And the where I played
Oh, the trees must recognize me surely

But I realize
There are new dwellers now
The home, the street, the school, the garden
Which I once called mine, are someone else’s now
For my marks were only temporal
I had no claim
The stay was short
Only the desire strong
In the scheme of things
I have moved on
I will move on
Guess, I’ll hardly be anywhere
But for a minutiae, a blip
And a lingering wisp of air…