While I was sleeping

The world does not stop spinning. Where one life exits consciousness another replaces it awandering in the worldly realm. While I was locked out one night, I returned to the city center after midnight to find it more awake than it ever is during the day. As I ate dinner at 1 o’clock in the morning with the very people I have wanted to but not gotten around to meeting otherwise during my usual awake hours, I could not help but feel amused on the turns of events. I suspect despite my intentions, I would have been too absorbed in work to have met them during this short stay. Such is the good in the bad and one needs no digging to find it.

As a morning person, night life has always fascinated me. There must be something amazing about the circadian cycle of these other mass of the population that turns differently. Thus on the few times that I find myself awandering on the street past midnight, everything appears to me in a different tone. Warm yellow. Perhaps it is merely the lamp post, but to lay down that warm, cosy feeling to merely visual cues of the hour would be a pity. The warm yellow light that brightens as I pass another lamp post makes me feel like a conductor guiding my orchestra. If I was doing  a run, it is all more fun as I switch my pace to this music. Not to forget, in this magical land of men and women in black flowing robes, I cannot help but wave my wand hand every now and then and say “Agora!”. It is hard to imagine, that all these happens, while I was sleeping.

Locked out

I have been locked out. Again. One does not remember how many times, and perhaps it is best not to remember. First there were anger and frustration, then one wonders if being under the charity of another one has any such rights and they become watered down into upset. One imagines it is unnecessary to be angry over such petty issues and thus upset grows into a mind game of trying to rationalise the physiological manifestation of such feelings and extending the possibilities of relating them to the challenges of work and upon a moment one catches oneself wondering, “Opps, what was the problem again?”. Perhaps it is just the right time settle down for a round of meditation. And perhaps soon enough, that door will unlock itself.

No two minds experience the same reality

Sometimes, you see someone hurting. You may empathize if you share similar experiences, you may feel sorry, you may feel concern, you may even symphatise, but I suspect it is inappropriate to say “I understand how you feel”. Perspective is everything. And thus no two minds experience the same reality. So try as one may, you can never truly be in someone else’s shoe, and until that is possible, please refrain from saying “I understand how you feel”.

Hope is that blue sky after the clouds come down to play

We breath the same air, see the same blue sky turns grey, but after the clouds have come down to play, will her blue sky return, as mine would?

“We must endure”, so she says as those few restrained tears force their way into the crevises and folds of a face. A face lined with worries, of stories untold even sometimes unspeakable and perhaps, one hopes, some lines etched also by the laughter and smiles of another time gone by. Sometimes, she and many others come awandering when one’s mind quiets down. Then, one looks to that grey sky, and one thinks, hope must be that blue sky after the clouds come down to play, is it not?

“The circumstances of our lives actually matter less to our happiness than the sense of control we feel over our lives.” Rory Sutherland

One should fear living more than one fears death, for everyone dies, but not everyone lived.

Why we run

We run to stay alive,

We run from troubles,

We run from danger,

And sometimes,

We run because it reminds us we are alive.