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Blizzard

Nature is by far the best cure for passing time. Problem in passing time is a common boredom oriented disease. I have met extrovert complain about boredom. Even Issac Asimov said this. I do not have to believe it. It is belief that add weight to visions. It is this belief that converts the unreal to real. Be it the reality distortion field of Steve Jobs of Apple fame, or the incurable boredom mentioned by Asimov, without belief they are nothing. And I believe that nature has that magic to give those timeless moments. Oceanside, raindrops on the window or a nasty blizzard that sweeps snow powders onto the interstate roadway; every interruption to the normal (busy) life bring forth by nature can steal the boredom away from my mind. It supplants such the unbelievable busy-ness of being busy and plants a strong sense of time and in turn timelessness. An insatiable curiosity for the believer.

I was driving through one of those moments. I had to be careful and sober. A bad move and I could be blocking another 100 cars behind me, including myself. This could lead me into potential stagnation in the road thick with snow, gradually leading to a pause in life and imminent boredom of staying on the road, going nowhere. Definitely, I did not want it. Unconsciously, I needed to avoid it. I could be careful. What better way to be serious at the job at hand, to reach in one piece, without getting stuck; drive cautiously. At some turns it the car slid, losing traction, reminding me of the childhood memories of hitting my friends’ electrical car in the amusement park. The jolts that used to follow was missing, the excitement all the same. I am not a child anymore; or am I? Who cares? I could be on the road sliding and driving at 50% of the speed limit, reach home safe and think about this memory.  I was and I am.  I beat boredom and I beat fake confidence. There was no reality distortion; I was in reality and out by timeless thoughts. All the wild whiteness around me, white desert, naked trees, blowing winds at 40 miles per hour, could transform me for some time. Not forever, into the addictive summit of timelessness. I could recall that moment and feel the same, even at the heated comfort of my living room desk. Momentarily, to be immersed in that timelessness. To be mesmerised.

-Sense of Time series-

  • Sense of Time - I would wake up everyday. Just like any other day. This was yet another day. Exciting as usual. A running clock adds to the excitement of awaiting adventure. And I start upon a new one. This time it is about time. And it is time. Time changes and now it was forcibly changed. The circadian […]
  • Vanishing point - An average timeline of  a human can be drawn starting from birth to school, progressing to university and job and marriage and help repeat all the same for the kids. This canned solutions in life is a proven time tested sequence. The authority of which is questioned only by a few. So far, the biggest […]
  • Wake Up - Work life habits are like rock. I would wake up at 5.30 am. Listen to the soothing sound from my phone. The wake up call with a Native American touch to it, resembling the flute of Carlos Nakai. In the background the birds chirp and the wake up call for a hunter, ready to pick […]
  • Blizzard - Nature is by far the best cure for passing time. Problem in passing time is a common boredom oriented disease. I have met extrovert complain about boredom. Even Issac Asimov said this. I do not have to believe it. It is belief that add weight to visions. It is this belief that converts the unreal […]
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Posted by on January 2, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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Snow

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The boy once asked for a land full of sugar

The God asked “fine or coarse grain, dear ?”

The boy said “finest fine is fine for me”.

And it was granted in cold white fine dust.

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The boy was mesmerized by chilly bus rides

Through the clouds on road which winded up the ghats

He asked for days of travel through the clouds

On the land, and there was cloud on the roads.

Inner Clock Tower Commons UB

The girl would shout with childish clamour

Excited when the container of rice flour

Fell on the floor, for she could walk and slide,

As if on snow; the roads were spread with white.

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The baby elephant who once tasted salt,in infant fantasy,

Wanted a world covered in the white powder,so tasty,

All over the surface, where it could roll, happily

Have a little or all whenever, it was the snow.

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The child in the grown-up wanted to fall

And never break a bone whatever the fall

And the coincidence happened near the fall

Niagara and the lake effect made it fall.

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The teen who got a sniff was addicted to the drug

And wanted the dreams through the stuff come true

In a sense of a joyous life full still on the brew

And sleep and walk on the white dust of the crew.

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Taking upon the task to complete the task all at once

How much was needed was beyond the measurement in tons

So, it was made simple, to let the cloud pass over the road

Make it feel chilly, cold, dusty and out of the world.

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The snow was made, not without much thought.

Based on the wishes as dreamy colourless white,

Shapeless, flaky, powdery, featureless sight,

Restless, slippery, forgery, seamless light.

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PS: Walk on the snow, Courtesy – Lake effect Advisory at Buffalo.

 
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Posted by on January 12, 2016 in creativity, poem

 

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