Indian Thinker : Mr Endangered Thoughts

  One thing is to lose something, It is different when you know you will lose and you wait for it to happen. It is a feeling of certainty in uncertainty.  It feels horrible, it feels mad, It feels as if a pound of iron on your chest. No other way to get rid of it, you move, you wait and you calmly anticipate. You need to reach there at that time,  the time which feels distant every time. It will come, for sure it will come But till then I have to carry this numb.

We don’t decide who our parents are,  we don’t decide who our children are. All we decide is who we are. Be the parent we wished we had, Be the children we wished we had. Life is this simple, all we have to do it is to just just pause  and be who we wish others were.

What if the question looms above the head a halogen balloon What would have changed, If I had felt then not that strange. Who could have solved  when it was not easily resolved. Questions that cloud us about the past within us. Haven’t met a guy or a gal who is not demented by these pasts so tall. Do we live in the present, or a present which always peeps into the past. We live in the past, everywhere, everytime, all at once. We are the prisoners of time.

Sometimes you want to sleep, curl up and cry You wonder what good it will do But its worth a try May be its the secret sauce for all your worries to fry. You know you can’t do it Still the world is there looking for you Like as if it expects you to be you The you, that you don’t know anymore Put up that smile, comb up those hair You might not really need you now But out there, there are who really want you to be you Because they know all is you  and not the you, you have become.

  When will we back again together? When will we fund ourself back? Time flies so does space. May be we both find someone in haste. Put together all the memories we had, Will it not amount to something glad. Far away from all the light At top a big blue height We both will find our true height. Till then it’s good bye but its not any high.

Funny thing, this world is, Always sends me a googly or two. In search of love, I wander, Never have I ever felt this. I don’t know what to do— Should I laugh, should I cry, Should I shout, should I growl? All I know is that deep pain, Sitting in my chest, Trying to burst out, But I don’t know what it is.