Tuesday, 17 February 2015

Reflections From Exile

Intimacy & indifference share a binary camaraderie –as you bifurcate the self drawn line between right and wrong, light and dark or truth and false. Any university wit may name it- paradox. I call it Existence, rather a coexistence of the very concept of existence. What I dwell amidst these days is nothing but a congregation of the hyperlinks: an intimate indifference. Deep leveled Intimacy is an exiled imprisonment for the self:  the "us"and others. You must feel deeply intimate/passionate and yet there has to be an open space of indifference to everything- be it work, human relations or life. The mind is only capable of a “heartless indifference” which is just a cold distance, or detachment. You are afraid, when you are expecting or you hope. It's better, when you learn to Exist without expectations.

Solitude subtracts human cacophony. It provides an introspection- a rear view image of the conceived image of reality of perception of the voyages we embark upon, of the discoveries we dare: the passing reflections on the dewy mirror as though time and tide mates to fetter the concepts of existence itself! The mind ever wanders, nomadic are we, bohemian rhapsodies that blood like flows through our veins ever; (at least mine) as caravans of thought impersonates through this restless brain to detach me from sleep and all that you call normal! The mind takes photographs: which in turn refracts in the subconscious to bring about transcendence and higher spirituality. Half of this self remains uncultivated and the better half: read ego or I carefully avoided by the cognitive dwellers: us! A new world, a brave new one opens its doors to embrace, but fear lurks in the heart in the cores of coral vine to obstruct the window to mystified aura. I have ventured, opened doors to unleash the potential cognitive trials and attempts to reach what you call higher class of living... You Coming? ....
  My world is solitary, I may not open the doors! You ready to wait? Shout... I don't hear you, I can't... can't you see? I am down with fever.. Fever of importunate  postpartum Reflection, fever of disbelief? What? you want to wait? Do, I may See you once again, when the moon sweeps through the rain drenched cloud on a lonely moonlight light as I stroll alone, against the tides: of existence, of companionship, of human touch. You Coming Right?

After all, you only grow when you are alone. Life is a solitary cell, whose walls are mirrors.. the mirrors reflect your "I", the past meandering into present and the solitude ever understanding, ever accepting. Your desire globe may blur away with time. You  feel stifled yet realize;  the space between fact puts a scope for subjective creativity with another fear of only to be bridged. I never loved bridges. Do we need them? Why don't you come? Bridges mar interpersonal communication. I am living! Alone, against the TIDE.

They tag it as: unnatural living as we become a kind of a recluse who avoids connection, who stops being sensitive to the world’s suffering, who stops being passionate about life. Being recluse is not a stage; it is a concept, it is a way; a way of living. Constant imbroglio of psychological suffering is what guides us to alienation. No, it's just the passing on. Intimate Indifference is the defense mechanism; a permanent tattoo that leaves its imprint on the sea of brain cells. Intimate indifference keeps me going, living.