How Has It Come To This ?

Dear I,
              Today I did the hardest thing ever. Today I renounced credit. I refused, in absolute, the attachment of an activity, a thought, a word, an essay or any thing else with my name, or what we imply by saying our name, that is our self our identity call it what you will.
It is time to come out, come out in the open, to reveal. We can be open yet subtle but we should not hide behind these treacherous words. They cannot convey truly what we wish to say what we feel. I love you, I love this and I love that. Where is the difference ?
Are we supposed to see the subject ? The predicate ?
This shall not be.
It can not be.
                                                             In tears,
                                                                  R

The Theory of Many Selves

As he stood in the midst of the mild sunlight with the crowd streaming around him or him around them, he made the jump into the deeper recesses of his self. As he traversed into himself he caught hold of him, the five year old boy who tormented him in his mind. He entered his uncontrolled floating thoughts and devoured his satisfaction his sanity his … my rationality. I’m confused where he ends and I begin but of this much I am sure, that boy is not me estranged by whatsoever it maybe. He flies down to him... me.

The landscape is beautiful. It is the green of faded memory. There is moist blue and above all else the blazing sun in a clear sky-blue sky. The earth is brown but compact and has a gravelly texture.
I am in love.

 This much I know I … we all love ourselves beyond all else. As he stepped on the earth barefooted the muted thud travelled through my ear and by the synapses that connect body to mind entered my brain igniting a storm. The tears sprang down my … his cheeks. I made for him and gently clasped his hand in mine. Truly I hate this the pain that we cause to our self t'is most unbearable as it is enduring.

I am sorry said I to I.

I … he smiled. After all these years I have finally forgiven myself.

15 BI

Dear I,
              it has been 4 years since i met you. I knew i wanted to know you at the time i met you. 1 week later we were friends and ever since then we have trudged along the hierarchy called friendship. Now there you stand outside the pyramid smiling softly to all those within it. A world apart we reside in, you and I.
We sit on the swing staring at the world with unseeing eyes. We instead imagine the architecture of our minds.
Being with you is like being in a closed room with a single window with very thick curtains peeking through it to see the sunlight outside. The sunlight is clear slightly pinkish, clearly a rising sun. It is cool outside. You know you can open the window but you hold back because you know you have all the time in the world.
Yes, we shall never separate but neither are we one ; for where is the joy in That ? No we are distinct , symbiotic. Yes that's about right. We look at things and sometimes see light and sometimes dark but it is the many shades of grey which bonds us, connects us and therein lies our hope for a friendship that is as eternal.
There is more to write but it is still 15 BI
                                                                   Love R
PS : BI Before Isha

Here comes Tomorrow.

Dear I,
                Hope is mine favourite child. It empowers me to imagine, to concieve in my head what i see in the world and also that which i do not see in here. It also allows me to think of how it would perhaps to be out of the bottle than in it even if I am alone. We do not seek friendships we seek clarification. And some rare times we find that spark which we have sought. It nourishes us so that it is then we see that we were perfect anyway and what we really seek is the faculty to percieve it. Life is not about cycles but seeing the one true miracle of ' Infinite Posssibility '.
Yes that is it . The truth.
We can do anything. So let us be prepared, Here comes Tomorrow.
                                                                         R

Les enfants

Dear I,
         Why should I have to regain what once was mine anyway ? The wisdom that children are born with should not be eroded by social structure. The vivid stories that i imagined. The songs that i constructed , why , why must they go ? The toys i played with , they were beautiful and they were perfect because i gave reason , validity , to them to each tiny part of them. I was one god in the company of many. We had equality equanamity. All that we gave life to existed . There was no lasting animosity. No cyclic pattern of entropy. Rather there was a never ending newness and brilliance.
            I now lie , thinking about the how we were so perfectly aware of ourselves then . Not too much nor to little. Now this mess called self consciousness eats our very esence away leaving me behind. But a reflection of perfrection.
                                                                                        R

P.S. I wouldn't worry too much for i am regaining much of what i lost. Hope you do too.

Two birds, No stone

Dear I,
          One of the most mysterious phenomenon on Earth is what i like to call the 'Couple Syndrome'. When people get romantically involved they play in harmony both familiar and unlike to what one enjoys with someone you may call a friend.
As time passes you begin to absorb each other till there is no room left for any one else. You become complete and in that completeness there is no room for another being. Thus are the greatest of love stories turned into macabre tragedies when that tenacious link breaks. For now there is no refuge left to hide from the breaking of the dam. That which once nourished is now consuming every particle of your happiness.
But that is the end and all endings are sad. What troubles me is that where previously you had the beauty of many friendships ,now ,there is only one.
                                                                                Yours truly,
                                                                          R

Of Chlorophyll , among other pigments.

Once upon a time,
in the kingdom, that is a garden, the warmth that emanates is because of the diffused sun light. The light is diffused because the King of all pigments Chlorophyll is hard at work.
In his realm, by his undertaking, is the miracle of life propagated from the distant star Sol to the inhabitants of Earth. The work of this ruler among pigments is taxing, but the story of Chlorophyll begins with its brother Melanin. Since the time Earth was born life has permeated through it and gave shape to two distinct life forms; those that lived by themselves and those that fed on the former.
Now Melanin was the lesser of the two brothers and resided in that stream of life which fed on the subjects of his brother Chlorophyll. The two were amiable and that was how it would remain had it not been for Eve.
Most people assume Eve to be the biblical female but that is not so. You see the Eve I talk of is the one whose Mitochondria we still share today. Many of you will not readily appreciate the importance of this but remember from now on that the reason we breathe and we eat is so that all those can be transformed into energy by that tiny Mitochondria. It is only from the mother that we inherit this special organelle but that is an entirely different matter.
Now when Eve’s children crossed the cradle of life they grew pale and therein lay the trouble. For centuries now and forever our minds are irrevocably scarred by apartheid. Melanin grew fearful of these peoples who fought over nothing more than the hue of the skin, they who had sprung from the same Eve. In fear and wrath he asked his brother Chlorophyll to stop this madness.
Now Chlorophyll knew that these children of Eve were as important as He, though they did not think so of Him, but for all his wisdom he knew there was no escape from this. So in great anger and lesser sorrow he called for his brethren to leave Earth.
As the forests scorned man, Melanin scanned the sorrowful sight and sighed.
This is not what he had asked for.