In Praise of Idleness

Time again I look out the yellow window of light,
With a certain longing to melt in the shimmering flecks.
But I drag my fancy, lounging in the midst of stars;
Back to the shadowy confines of my mustard walls.

Caught in a time warp, this mind wanders in bygone lanes;
A tramp, subject to the vagaries of his vagabond psyche.
But I chain it down and ask its irritated self to muse.
In Praise of Idleness - here's the part trosh it churns out.

Why not roam around in rustic lanes searching for poetry?
"Poets etch dreams!" But don't you feel them all the same?
Exploring unknown vistas from these shadowy confines;
Living a dream that never was, but living it all the same.

Search for beauty in mundane things while abhorring reality,
Floating in gondolas cruising through Venetian causeways.
Isn't that the meaning of “heavenly bliss” for you?
Its irritated self now asks me; but I prefer to play mute.

Idleness is never bane for it gives us reasons to realize.
Feeding the fire of imagination, it nurtures the rationale.
Decipher the cryptic messages conveyed by your reason,
And you'll find the same fancy grinning at your stupid self.

And so my fancy reasoned with me; I had to but let it go.
It floated with grace out my yellow window of light,
Back to where it belonged, lounging amidst starry company.
I close my eyes and find me there - all In Praise of Idleness.

Decoding Melancholy

I have been thinking about this and many a time I have expressed my thoughts on the subject. It was only tonight that a chance remark triggered a train of thoughts. I tried flagging a red signal to stop the juggernaut mid-way. But to no avail. I kept on doing my work while at the back of head an altogether different thought-process was bugging me. So in the end I decided to put away my books and do what I always try to do in such a situation – pen down my feelings.

This write-up pertains to people like me who somehow got confused about what they wanted and ended up wasting any talent that they had. I was a hard working guy before I came to college. Though the desserts of my labor were not exceptional, they were decent enough to be proud of. But sometime in the first semester, a higher power managed to mess up my brains and everything that I had sought to do, became fuzzier and trivial. I started bunking classes, missing labs and ultimately stopped studying at all – not realizing that at the same time, an uneasiness was creeping into my being. Clambering over the walls of my defenses, this queasy feeling made itself comfortable in my sub-conscious.

I went on with my life, thinking that my restlessness was rooted in something else. So much so that I almost became paranoid and people saw less and less of me. I was often left alone with my musings which often found vent in the form of write-ups like these or poems. But like they say, every dark cloud has a silver lining. I won’t say I have been able to find the solution to all my problems, but at least there is a semblance of one which has made itself apparent to my troubled psyche. Let’s see if the things work out. For the time being I would only like to discuss its pros and cones.

I think it is the guilt of not working hard enough that germinates the seed of restlessness within us. We go about like studs – people who don’t study and still manage to get decent grades. But the crux of the matter is that we can not make do with just decent grades. Maybe (just maybe) we’ll end up with similar grades even after throwing our legs around. But at least the satisfaction of having tried will be with us (Yeah, we may also end up feeling even more miserable after all that). Lost in our world, we discard any normal (read the ones who slug it out) mortals as nerds and muggus - not worthy of our attention. It maybe so, or it might not be. I am not the one who knows. This puzzle is all about ‘mays’ and ‘might bes’. Maybe if we start putting in that extra effort, we’ll end up with that stupid grin on our faces which is so characteristic of content souls. Maybe we’ll do even better the nerds we were so jealous of. Maybe we’ll be gloating just because of the pleasure of having so much to learn and explore. You have to decide for yourself.

ACID TEST: If music starts sounding better when you do something then rest assured that you really are happy.

Dreams of An Insomniac

The lamp had cast an eerie glow over the wall;
A yellowish hue. It seems like the color of my dreams.
Transient, ephemeral and yet so steadfast and unrelenting.
Dreams which often grace me with visits in lonely hours,
Dreams of An Insomniac – eccentric like my very being.

I was lying beneath bare walls, playing with my shadows on them;
The insomnia had settled in and I prepared for a long night ahead.
Twisting around in my open eyed slumber I sensed an approach,
An unexpected guest, silhouetted against the darkness, what’s this?
An insomniac is visited by some strange dreams, the rendezvous begins.

And then we talk about secret voyages to places unchartered;
Conversing in silent whispers lest the unknowing masses hear.
Red sand swirls around me; crimson, the color of passion.
Through this whirlpool I see sparks; white, it’s sweet wisdom.
But my dreams have a touch of evil, for I see green eyed jealousy.

And then comes the lady of my dreams, cloaked in umpteen hues;
The sweet harmonics fill my ears; they take reign over my senses.
The Sound of Music – it keeps giving meaning to my existence;
I am lost in it and it in me when we are together, a twosome.
But then she parts, like all good things in life, leaving me alone.

The queasy feeling sets in again, rattles my senses where it hurts;
It is like waking from a sleep never slept, then why does it hurt?
Expectations were never dashed but vistas unknown opened.
Clambering over walls of obstacles, I claw at what will never be mine.
“Keep dreaming!” I tell my mind. But now why won’t it listen to me?