Skip to main content

The beauty of our thoughts

We've grown up this way
And that
Learning and unlearning
And winding and unnwinding
We've found our ways through every path
That buckled and cobbled,
Because even when we are babies,
We know exactly what we want.
Whether we want to cry
Or we want to laugh.
Of course there is more thought than science
In this world.

It's beautiful how we shape up
More than our anatomy, the fact that we've picked up
So much
Is elegant.
Have you realized
The difference between an item on your bucket list
And the same item on your 'Been there, done that.'
It's called the magnificent slope
Of learning
That has instilled in you
So many virtues, so much more awareness,
A newer perspective,
A fuel for your imagination
And that is what is taking you forward
Each day.
You never realize it, but your mind
It's a magical thing!
It's ingenious.
So know that
And believe it
And believe that when you want to give up
That's your thoughts taking the silly route
That's you wanting a mere break,
To learn something new,
To discover different things
By taking a mainstream slowly.

Know that
Nothing you ever do
Is completely wrong
But you can make it better.
Know that each mind
Is a magical thing,
And believe it. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What the New Year Means to Me

 What does the new year mean to me? I don't know.  I think it just means that I can give myself another chance to try, fail, succeed.   I think it means that I can spend time with family, differently this time. I think it means that I can connect with people and with myself, in new ways.  I also think that it gives me a chance to see things with a different lens. The kaleidoscope becomes a periscope. I don't know what else. Every year, I put on a new pair of goggles. Every year, I grow, whether I try, or not. Some things may work as I had expected them to, some may not. But who knows?  I will allow myself to be Novak Djokovic in my arena, who hears his name when the crowd cheers for Nadal or Federer. I will allow myself to be Rafael Nadal, who always has a plan, no matter how bleak or bright things may seem, and sticks to it. I will allow myself to be Roger Federer, who glides in, serves, plays and walks out, all in grace and style. I will allow myself to b...

Fact and Fantasy

How much is fact, and how much is fantasy? Winter mornings are dewdrops. They settle like the treble in a song, only to fade away like echoes.  I can hold them on my fingertips, but the next instant they are gone. Elusive. Just like peace. Just like people you don't really know. Come to think of it, I realize that everything in this world is transient. The barking of the dogs in the neighborhood. The incessant crying of a baby. The footsteps of the milkman. The steady, tremulous tone of someone making a point over the phone. The chatter of neighbors. Yet, only a few moments have passed before I can remind myself that transience is, after all, a tricky business. Everything appears temporary because it is warped by time and spaced into a fragment of its entirety. What appears to be a puzzle, is actually just one piece.  I am wearing the most concrete example of this irony of interconnectedness. Of permanence. Of durability. It wraps your hands and skin in the warmth of several i...

(How I Wish) People Were Like Poems

Today, I wish people were more like poems.  A sad truth is dawning on me.  I can't just be. Most things just are. No proof required. No justification. Here I feel like an instance Of a class. Some kind of template  With some methods Instantiated. Many of my methods are public. Others comment on them. If I encapsulate, They pry. If I am abstract, They talk. What's going on? I'm not going to plead any more. I'll just shut all the doors. Make all the methods and variables private. Too many people tampering with the balance of it all. Our lives are not portraits or leaflets to hand out. Media often makes us feel so, but existence is way older, Authentic and organic- than the glitzy hood of social media. Human beings, like plants, need space, nourishment and nurturing To thrive. Are plants dependent on these things? Can they not stand on their own roots? They can, and they do. But you cannot neglect  The environmental variables that make them happen. So don't comment on ...