Vocal lanes

Rings into my ears every now & then

I feel it on my skin

Listening to something mundane

Her voice turns it into arcane

It appears once unannounced and thence expected

Thrives on atmosphere passionate

Leaves a lasting impression on my mind & body

The music in her voice is such a melody !

Like a bird who sings with no aim

Like a poet who writes for no fame

Like a mother who loves not for a goal

She talks everyday with a pure soul

Hidden beneath the sound are her trials

Concealed from the world are those tears

The silence does what sound cannot

Shining light of a moon when sun doesnot

The meaning of the rhythm, rhyme & punctuations

Is all but perceptions

The love, agony , joy & pain

Expressed summarily by the sound of her vocal lanes

The biology be damned

And the physics be condemned

I listen to her like a starved listener

Her voice that is ethereal, surreal & stellar

I will tread those lanes someday

Listen to the silence & words at hay

Nothing truly matches the sound of her sound

Stealthily I shall be happiness abound.

Absurd

You are an absolute disgrace of a human being! What do you do when you are subjected to such a verbal assault? When mirrors are shown with uneasy regularity, your only defense is to shatter those mirrors. Indrajeet was trying to come to terms with what had just hit him.
                                                   There were certain questions about life that had always irked him, simple matters like love, distance, growing up, conforming etc. Hope or optimism always held things together, hope to effect some change and to feel change, being a beneficiary sometimes and an agent at some. Indrajeet pondered on these ideas as he smoked his first cigarette in many days. Quitting was difficult, more so the tribulations of an adult life. The fundamental need of a civilized human being is Self- Respect. Once you compromise on that then what remains is the shattered mirror. Does it really make sense?
                                 Indrajeet didn't want to sound logical, he was tired of being the quintessential no nonsense method guy, now he wanted to let the shattered pieces of glass from the mirror pick themselves up and form another image, without any external influence, without being subjected to the absurdities of a human life and without a hint of compromise. The glasses as much as he wanted were never going to pick themselves up but he had to. He wished he could either turn back the clock or fast forward it as he wanted to escape the present.
The perpetrators of verbal assault deserved their turn, thought Indrajeet, after all they were the reason why he existed. That made things even more complicated and difficult. So Indrajeet being Indrajeet, tried to either evade the barrage of piercing words or offered pithy replies. None of these gave the desired results and did not make any side any happier. The moot question is this: What's the point of so many words when silence was communicating better, what's the point of defense when premature obituaries had already been written & what's the point of this blog post when nothing was asked of it. You stare into the sky pointlessly, you drink tea pointlessly and so you talk pointlessly and endlessly.
                           Problem is with finding reason, absurdity is the foundation of our existence, thought Indrajeet. That we exist because there exists a higher purpose? Life cannot be oversimplified by these narratives of essentialism. We strive too hard to give our lives a perfect shape, like a flawless spotless linen & in the bargain upset what’s core to our existence. Whatever that was going inside Indrajeet’s brain stopped short of Nihilism as he believed in a higher power but not in any established social or moral order. I need to understand it – he said. He resolved to read Camus, Sartre, Kierkegaard and Nietzsche or may be just Camus because absurdity times four would still be absurdity