Discovering Self

A writer sitting in a cafe trying to come up with a work is quite common. But let’s not talk about common things, ordinary things for some time.

Our minds are perhaps the best gift given to us for it allows us to think and do the most amazing stuffs.

Owing to our minds, each and every one of us has a flair. A speciality about ourselves. While I am awaiting for my fellow readers to share/talk about their flair with me, let me share about mine.

My Flair

I am an absolute buffoon.

Not knowing is my speciality.

I sometimes feel like December in June,

But I try to understand everything in its totality.

That is my Flair.

Knocked down several times,

Sometimes due to my lack of guard,

Sometimes due to some uncommitted crimes,

Yet none could get me disbarred,

I keep narrating my triumphs in rhymes.

That is my Flair.

I try to know things,

Unconventional or conventional are bounded by rings,

Fools who keep trying become Kings,

My Flair is my willingness to craft my own wings.

 

-That is my flair, what about you?

 

Every Venture is in some way or the other a first Venture, isn’t it?

I mean, let’s think about it. Situations are different, people are different, choices are different etc.

Beautiful/Ugly is not the question. Venture is a venture, simple as that.

So, shall we delve in?

A Venture

On the 14th Morning of December,

In between January and November,

I had an epiphany.

So I decided to get lost,

In the city’s smogy frost.

Keyboard which is my mind’s native tongue,

So wise at times and so brash like a young,

Searching for a song that hasn’t been sung,

It churns everyday inhaling opportunities in my lungs.

So, I ventured out.

I see citylights outshining the elderly sun,

I see kids some not and some having fun,

I see youngsters, all tired as the day gets done,

And I see the old enjoying in the peace they had earn.

Trying to fit in, I stepped up.

I met people I never wondered about,

Jumped off a cliff with the most frivolous shout,

Cleared up a few things and solved my doubts,

And without knowing took the less travelled routes.

To my luck…

I learn and learn and understand everyday,

Becoming more human instead of a lump of clay,

To learn one must not stop or stay,

Venture out, new experiences are not far away.

 

Youth, embodiment of energy and crazy. But

Truth, quintessential drudgery resulting in lazy.

Why, a question with an answer all hazy.

Reality, no one knows or even asks out of courtesy.

Anomaly, when someone tries to row upstream.

Perceived, a foul player who cannot be of a team.

Irony, when one does live their dream,

The World, “Why can’t we live in the same theme?”.

 

Walk your own life and let others be,

The more you twist or tangle, lesser you will be free.

Maniacs at Work need to stop and flea,

Your wish is what your life should see.

 

There is this bizarre concept called Extrovert and Introvert.

Extrovert is someone who is considered as a socially confident person. A person who knows how to leave an impression etc. etc.

Introvert is  someone who is shy and cannot gel up in the crowd with ease.

Pish Posh!.

Adjectives are only good when used in a sentence to describe things, not humans.

To be honest, every extrovert is somewhat of an introvert and vice versa.

It is all about the time and place.

Extro-Intro-verts

The crowd is engaged as the desired one speaks,
Everything that is being said is simply magnificent.
Who cares about the content, just see the techniques,
Extroverts, blinding all the critiques.

But wait, who is that standing in the corner?,
And why is he not saying a word?
Maybe he doesn’t understand, poor foreigner.
Introverts, know only the art of murmur.

No doubt extroverts are great,
No doubt introverts often wait,
But that is all, there is no other difference.
Extro-intro-verts have both shaped earth’s fate.

Look beyond the skills of presentation,
Extrovert is more than charms and smile.
Look beyond the silent hesitation,
Introvert is more than a closed file.

 

~Ideas and content matter the most

 

Ever wondered why most brilliant minds are the most curious ones?

If you did then you are brilliant as well.

Read to know…know to read

सवाल (Question)

Knowledge is pristine and ageless,

Which despite abundance is rare to find.

And while it is like time, endless,

Only by one way can it be confined.

Teachers teach their student,

Yet the knowledge level varies.

Some remain evasive while some become prudent

And life in the background simply carries.

Ask questions, ask all the way,

The only way to know the new.

Question is the answer they say,

A secret known to only a few.

 

-The more you ask, the more you will know.

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Words are the best secret keepers as they never spill out any secret.

Well, until you read them. After that they are like those drunk people who ramble on and on about everything they know and have stored inside their heart.

Seriously, Words!!! Learn to be a good friend for once.

Okay, however here I want you to do what you do best…misguide the world.

This is the story of a 6’1″ tall, narcissist who knows only one thing properly… his heart.

Stubborn, egoistic, determined, charming etc. many adjectives have been associated with him but what is he really?

I hope you help me to find out…

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Oh! dweller, who is looking for self,

Funny how you know everyone but you.

Like all the books that stand in your shelf,

You think you have read everyone you knew.

Oh! dweller, let me know then,

Who am I and what is true?

For all I have heard time and again,

My different versions from many different view.

Let me tell you what is known to a few,

We are what others want us to be.

Oh! dweller, without any further adieu,

Do convey what you actually see.

Coming back…

 

Ironic!

A live street in an iconic city,

Yet everything seems dull as a desert.

Pages are blank while the Pen is witty,

Ironically the writer is unable to assert.

 

Which brings into question the reason for this,

This void of thoughts in an ever thinking mind.

And as the writer seeks the miss,

He lost his eyes and turned blind.

 

Chair right in the front made a noise,

As if someone just came and sat.

And in a sound similar to mine, said

“It’s time for you to have a chat”

 

I listened as I narrated an old story,

Who, What, Why and When came back.

A poet who was in his prime and glory,

Is in need of a whole new track.

 

And no one else could tell me that,

For no one else knows me for I.

Yes, sometimes you need to put on the wise old hat,

And look for yourself with a blind eye.

 

The story he narrated is different for each of us,

And so is the struggle, so is the fuss.

Suddenly the voice muted and I could see,

A new path and an awaiting bus…