The last time I wrote something was in 2009 now its two years and all this time the time has passed as if nothing had touched me nothing had passed through me , as if I was just waiting for something to happen, it’s amazing that the answers we seek and the questions we ask are the ones we think about , but we don’t ever speak about it , its rainy season again and I have a home where the raindrops cannot be felt, the roof is very high , the room is compact with windows so strong that they do not open with the hardest knock, the raindrops do not disturb me in my sleep, I sleep with rooms closed and windows shut. The wind does flow buts it’s just the fan and the air conditioner. What have I lost in between, no more dreams of the monks walking in the jungle with sweet melodies and smooth prayers of theirs.
Lost the ability of my virgin mind its occupied with many things I was alone in a crowded place and have always been one, I was scared of myself and am still, I wanted to be free and still want to. There are moments which do make me happy but still the happiness does not touch me , its wants to pass through me , it wants to stay away from me as if when I touched it would lose its rainbow colors . that’s when the interruption comes in I am eighter very unhappy or very dissatisfied with things around me , I will forever be thinking about this , but this is something which I eating me up, something that’s spoiling me.
I may be dead as a person but the soul it still lives and till the time it does not die I still have some hope for revival , till then the dead man speaks.