I am walking, I am sky walking.
There are beautiful colours around me, pink mostly. Sometimes the softness in the atmosphere changes into wetness which after inhaling makes me happy and light.
I am also holding an umbrella, it is black in colour. I open it and I am dragged backwards by the musical wind. I am laughing and loving the moment. With my flying umbrella, I spin and float here and there like a leaf.
I always wanted to be a leaf, I am serene.
I read somewhere that ‘definition destroys’ and I think I believe in it. This is this and that is that has never worked for me, only feelings have.
Defining simplifies things, yes it does and makes things understandable, but it also makes things complex and difficult… all the definitions of the macro and the micro world does not help in resolving the problems, the inequality in the world.
Though necessary, it often becomes too confusing and an indigestible half-baked fact.
To define is to confine; actually, I don’t know but it rhymes perfectly and rings true.
I just hate it, this definition thing, the most when dreams are analysed so as to reach a definition. Please, let us keep our dreams as a mystery for the mystery on our smiling face in the sleeping state continues.
- Of Monsters and Men and This Journey
- She Wanted Storms
- Godard… Breathless and Alive
- Ninety-Nine Times out of a Hundred
- A Telltale Heart’s Secret