Sunday, March 28, 2010

I care..

This piece is an old thought, which was in my draft.. publishing it now..

"I care.." where does the boundarry line start for this statement.. where does it end? Is there a boundary somewhere? Some people make such an explicit statement of this, and some have subtle expressions. And the rest don't care. How much of showing will actually pass on the message? Does it always have to be expressed in words? What if one had caring thoughts, but never said it or expressed it, would any value be attached to it or would that be equivalent to 'don't care'? Expressions! The true soul of existence.. ?
What do you say to a person who tells you that you don't care? Would you reiterate "No I really do" or cite examples from everyday happenings to demonstrate how you cared for the person? Or would you rethink, do I really care? But if you do care then why was the question posed to you in the first place? And thats exactly where you start going in circles...
Go figure out, do you really care for the people who you ought to care for? Or the people who think that you care about them? Or are you really passing the message to the people whom you care for? The answer is simple, as long as you don't show your affection in the way the receiver percieves the word 'care', you simply don't care... whatever you do doesn't matter.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Looking for some calmness on a Sunday afternoon..

My small kitchen window, paints a picturesque image of a small sub-urban city somewhere in the north-eastern part of this mass of land. The winter has receeded to hibernate for another nine months. Spring is waiting to be born. The grass is back in its vibrant green hue. The sun is radiant again and I can feel the heat once again. It is so beautiful outside. My eyes capture the serenity through the window. The winds seems to be blowing ever so gently, the trees are dancing to its tune. The clouds are taking a stroll enjoying the leisure of a Sunday afternoon, trying to decide if they should pour down or hold on. Beyond this canvas are there people walking, children playing, grandma's and grandpa's sitting on the porch enjoying this canvas of nature, like me? I could tell, if only my wings would move a little, then I could fly and feel the air hit against my wings. I could breathe in the freshness and maybe then my mind would learn to let down all its chores, worries, thoughts and calm down a little....
My wings are finally beginning to move, but my fingers are turning on the ignition of my car. I can feel the wind of my air conditioner. I can see miles of grey roads. The tune of the winds has changed to a Bollywood song added with humming from two children in the rear seats. As I drive, I take in this image, trying to be aloof from everything happening inside. Alas, the list of chores keeps running like the numbers on a slot machine, stopping occasionally to tell me what to do next... I look outside my car window and yearn, yet once again.