Invocation: inspire

Showing posts with label inspire. Show all posts

What is it to be free,
To be independent?

Underneath the sky full of stars,
witness my land full of freedom,
where I walk carefree, with my head held high -
Free of fear, rape, and molestation,
Of the baseless justification,
And that hateful identification.
A land full of familiar faces,
Beyond caste, beyond races,
To take pride without prejudice -
In whoever, I Love, still, unafraid,
In whatever I eat, grass or dead meat,
Free to chose what I speak -
for what I seek,
to hear, deep within my heart;
is that blissful call of freedom!

But, do you know,
what is it to be free,
To be independent?

Where our fathers, won the battle, not long before,
The land of Nehru, Gandhi, Bhagat, Bose and many more -
Bestowed, to us, this land full of freedom.
War is over, yet, what is it,
That we, still, keep waging? This silent wailing?
Born of this rage, a droplet of hatred,
My brainwashed brothers!
While Kashmir burns,
another Dalit is set to fire,
another state stands divided,
yet, another angry Naxalite
flaming this invisible ire,
bracing, yet, another fight,
and embracing the hands of invisible independence.

But why?
Why did we trade our freedom?
And to whom?

This Illusion of choice -
The rigged election, yet another fiction.
A fable, anointing a handful of proud pigs,
This illusion of choice -
Disillusion of divide and rule! While,
My brothers of Khaki and the sisters who smile,
The sons of poverty and daughters die in distraught,
While these battles, that are still fought,
This illusion of choice -
Voting for this, The choice of hatred over peace,
The invisible boundaries that still divide us - awhile -
the freedom of fancy coveted lives we live upon.
Divide us, and they shall rule.

Wake up!

Here and now, Unite. Quit this inner fight.
Get up, Stand up,
Stand up, for your rights!
Look beyond, these invisible shackles, the bondage
Look beyond, Men behind those masks, coming of age,
to sell us out,
sinister schemes, bogus bills, hypocritical hypothesis -
that become The Blind Law,
and us? The proud law abiding citizens.
- A trap, a loop, a labyrinth of lies,
and then, this here is their version of our freedom!

But do they know,
What is it to be free,
To be independent?

The symbols, anthems, this fake preach of patriotism,
Taxation, reservation, my constitution, this holy inhibition,
Speech, politics, blasphemy, to set me free?

"Go to work, have kids, send them to school,
obey all rules, follow the fashion and pretend all's cool,
act normal, walk on the pavement, watch the Television,
trade your youth, save for the future, remember the vision,
keep your eyes close, cover your senses and obey the law,
it's alright! A brave new world, without any flaw.
Now, repeat after me:
We are free, We are free, We are free..."

And all this while we raise the flag
and sing the anthem,
decorate ourselves with the tricolor,
remember our heroes and forget this moment,
our chests out in adoration, in pride,
and minds shut off objective fiction.
Year after year, the same,
the nationalistic kills the idealistic,
And that's the end of this game,

The game of freedom. "We are free, we are free, we are free..."

But, did you understand,

what is it, to be free,
To be independent?

***

[About]

As per all recorded evidence, India gained independence on August 15, 1947.

70 years later, the question remains the same,

What is it, to be free,

To be independent?

***

What is the value of one’s life?

Are we human’s superior to other beings of nature in any way?

What makes us humans humane?

This article captures a small sequence of events on a single day that made me question and introspect our collective outlook towards the world we are meant to co-exist.

This is the story of a three-day-old kitten captured in a thirty feet. deep uncovered bore well in a small district of Bangalore.

***

The Fiasco

My colleague at Microsoft, Ashish Singh – a bright self-styled geek hailing from a small town of Madhya Pradesh – loves to be early to work. It was unusual not to be greeted with his bright grinning face behind the glass wielded eyes on a Thursday morning. We had our weekly skype call meeting scheduled at eleven in the morning and there was no sign of Ashish. It was rather strange I thought. When my call went unanswered I dropped a curious WhatsApp text in the hope of a reply.

He pinged me back after an hour with the following picture:

You might be confused like me seeing the image at first glance. Try zooming in.

My heart beat pulsated when I saw an innocent kitten’s neck smeared against a rusty iron pillar. With no space to make any movement, she was looking upward with hopeful eyes.

Moments later Ashish called.

“I think I am going to be late for work. This is not working. This is impossible. The people here are the same. Same Everywhere! There’s this kitten. A three-day-old kitten stuck in an unmanaged 30 ft. bore well in front of my apartment. Her mother is crying for help. Nothing is working man! I’ll be late to work. I am trying to get her out. Please drop a mail on my behalf. Will you?”

His voice cracked as he finished the last sentence.

Ashish is a sensitive, kind-hearted, honest, humble youth. He believes in conserving nature, aid children in shelters, helping people in distress, been an elder brother for me in a foreign land. He lives in a rented apartment in a small locality named Murgeshpalya – not far from our office in Domlur.

I drafted the mail on his behalf and frantically started searching for help on Google.

The Excuses

In India, as kids, we are instructed to memorize a three-digit number – on the lines of the ubiquitous 911 helplines in America - to dial in critical moments of accidental emergencies.

When you hit the digits 101 in sequence from any Indian SIM card, it connects you to the fire department.
The phone was answered after several long rings. Thirty seconds of the conversation, the firefighter and I decided English as the preferred mode of communication. I did not understand Kannada (local language in Karnataka), he had a problem interpreting my Hindi (India’s official language).

I explained him the entire situation taking calm, long pauses. I was perplexed as to why he would confuse the kitten with a puppy or a human infant, and react differently on each occasion. I disconnected the phone after he argued that I had dialled in the wrong department for cat rescue and suggested me to contact “someone” else.

Isn’t noon time a little too early to be tipsy? I thought.

Ashish finally reached office. Distraught and dismayed he recalled the sequence of events. I listened patiently, noticing the worry and fear on his face.

There was a small passage in between the outer and inner concentric circle outlining the bore well. A couple of inches- small enough to barely slide your wrist through- was big enough for the mischievous small kitten to get stuck in. Some observers gathered around Ashish while he applied his engineering skills and utilized as many household items around him as he could since morning.

Nothing helped.

He managed to call in a volunteer from a recognized non-profit organization who instead of helping, coaxed Ashish to quit trying and suggested him not to worry as the kitten would soon die and his body would easily rot away in the perfect makeshift graveyard!

“What can we do Arnab? Why are people so insensitive?”

He looked famished. I convinced him to join for lunch and promised him help. My nerves rattled in shame and helplessness. Nearly choked with flashbacks of the cute kitten’s face and his miserable plight I had trouble gulping my food.

Back at our seat, we decided to approach the issue with a plan. We spent nearly half an hour collecting helpline numbers of as many animal rescue organizations or non-profit agencies who swear to go to any extent to safeguard any animals’ life and boasted about several success stories on their websites. Contact details were neatly on display along with account details inviting donations. We were hopeful.

We started dialling and then the illusion was shattered!

While one renowned NGO (PFA- People’s for Animals) argued that the location was too far to travel on a bright sunny afternoon, another explained that their organization only rescues “wild” animals. I lost the debate supporting my claim that our innocent three-day-old kitten was wild enough to get your attention. He disconnected too.

While some (KRUPA) would suggest me to contact the fire department and explained their dependency on them for such rescue operation, other would blatantly pass on random contact numbers as both of us frantically continued our quest for help!

Bound by our work duties we couldn't leave the office for another few hours. We decided to keep on dialling – our only feasible way out, we thought.

People kept giving contacts and kept passing the buck. It was close to four in the afternoon. I tried the fire department again. The guy at the other end scolded me for trying them the fourth time, this time stating they didn't have climbers and added all fire engines were disbursed across the city. I tried explaining there would be no need for a climber as the cat was locked in a bore well deep inside the Earth. The guy from the fire department got even more rude and asked me to approach the media for more attention. I got the answer and hung up in disgust.

Other office colleagues chose to passively listen to our helpless phone communication and even mock us to be over sensitive for just an animal’s life.

We managed to leave work a bit early. Reaching the spot, we tried to gather the neighbour’s attention and sought as much help as we could.

The Mission Impossible

There was so little space around the borewell hole that moving the inner rod or inserting something to pull out the kitten would have hurt her. We kept thinking.
Some kind people gathered around.

Ultimately the circle of life fulfils with likeness and kindness coming in closer. That’s the base of our society and the world around. Someone brought a wire from a hardware shop. A lady brought her old sari (traditional Indian female garment). A kind neighbour provided us with torches, emergency light and heavy words of inspiration.

We made a loop of a long metal wire. Tearing the old sari to half, we looped it around the flexible aluminium wire’s length. We inserted this makeshift fishing rod inside.

In the commotion, the bore well rod moved a bit and the kitten fell further inside. Everyone gasped in agony!

On peeking inside, we realised the kitten was fine but was now thirty feet deep inside the borewell. It had hit rock bottom. For a moment, I cried. My hopes shattered as I silently heard the kitten wail.

After a round of heated discussions, we further stretched the wire inside until we imagined it to be within her reach. We had no choice but to wait for the kitten to climb onto the wire loop, so we could slowly pull her out. Everyone waited.

The mother cat purred impatiently around us, motivating her child and us to hasten the rescue. The kitten was devoid of food or water for more than twelve hours.

Was she alive and breathing down there?

People murmured; some gossiped; some kept making fun; some still questioned and wondered how did these two guys find time for all this without realizing how did they manage to find time to question these guys? Nervous moments ticked by. We answered some obnoxious questions and re-narrated the same stories.

Amongst all these thought bubbles came light!

We suddenly heard faint scratching sound. We flashed our torch and cheered hysterically as the kitten’s tiny paws clawed against the sari motioning it upward. The cat continued her shrill meows. The kitten responded and slowly continued moving towards our flashes of light. Her eyes sparkled in the reflection of the white light. Our eyes sparkled due to the tears of joy!

After vying for space and taking intermittent pauses, the kitten managed to crawl more than half the borewell’s length in half an hour. We stood in silence, witnessing a perfect climax! I bit my lips in silent prayers that she shouldn’t slip back the inner rod into the hell hole again.

With the help of the sari, her mother’s woeful cries and a major stroke of luck, the cute kitten proved that the cat has nine lives phrase is true!

She jumped into our arms and held on to our garments tightly. We purred and gently pat her delicate body. She was frightened! A near death experience, a long wait to be rescued, a hungry thirsty encounter with the delicacy of life.

The assembled crowd cheered for the heroes of the night. While a lady thanked Tirupati Balaji (major holy place celebrating the Indian Lord Vishnu), one swore to offer milk to the Shiva Lingam (a symbolic form of worship the famous Indian God – Shiva).

Someone suggested taking a selfie. We obliged.

I tread back to my mind loops, questioning the concept of humanity. What about our ability to imagine and decide to empathise with the sensitive ecosystem around?

What was the fault of the imbecile, young kitten who has been forced to adjust growing around a dangerous, insensitive, cruel human civilization- that chooses to favour and segregate nature as per its whims and fancy instead of embracing it as it is?

Shouldn’t the approach of the firefighters and the non-profit organizations have been more proactive, instead of simply passing around numbers and comments? Have we become lazy or simply insensitive or do we act only when the circumstances favour us?

In a country exploding in a population with every keystroke that I have typed so far, who do we approach when caught in such sensitive scenarios? Are enough organizations, volunteers, established in good numbers to offer help?

Why do we categorize ourselves superior to life forms around us? Why have we applied labels to everything? Why are we becoming self-centric and have chosen to shun our ability to empathise and embrace everyone around? Isn't a life just a life?

As the inner debate that if we at all believe in Karuna (grace/mercy) in this Kali Yuga (the last of the four stages of the world as per ancient Indian scriptures) still prevails, the kitten lives on – united with her nervous, caring mother sipping warm milk offered by another generous woman.

Do I rename this article as to something as

“Rescued Kitten: Faith in Humanity Restored!”

“Rescued a wild Kitten: Whose wilder - Us or Them?”

* * *

Also published at Youth Ki Awaaz.

“Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream..”

The shoreline echoed in his ears. Each deep breath filled his lungs with the freshness of pristine surrounding.

The rustic bridge overlooking the crimson skyline laid a perfect setting for their daily séance.

He assumed the lotus position and gently closed his eyes.

With each passing wave, his body resonated at a higher frequency.

The Guru smiled at his disciple’s allegiance. Now repeat after me.

“I am not the body, I am not even the mind”

Several moments later, He submerged into the vast ocean of consciousness.

#OFS #99words.

#Frame28.

Have you met a gypsy?

I have.

You'll know that moment when you meet one!

You're basking in her good vibes.

That familiar carefree movement - her arms swaying in a rhythmic motion, harmoniously sync with her lanky legs.

Vibrant colors dripping from her clothes paint the canvas of your imagination.

The carefree child-like voice leaves an eternal smile on your face while you watch her animated conversations.

You'll know.

A smile so enchanting!

You crave to fill your ears with her laughter.

Attracted to that beatific glow on her face, you are astonished how beautiful and easy it is to be a happy soul.

Before long, you start longing for her to stay.

And don't you start getting high on your own.

Wait for the gypsy to show you the way! Already!

For the gypsy opens her arms to let it all within and without.

Cusp your face and gently whispering to your ears:

But you are a free spirit, the one that must sway;

always looking for a chance to do your own;

to be your own person;

to have things done your own way;

Come dream the impossible dream!

She caresses your hair and embraces you with the sweetest goodbyes and fares you well.

You'll know - it would be your longest sigh!

This Haiku is dedicated to my favorite gypsy.

Happy Birthday :)

Shivani
{{{The Feminine Half of God
Wife of lord Shiva!
Bholenath}}}

***

Read an ode to The Gypsy.

Read more Haikus.

"One good thing about music,

when it hits you,

you feel no pain."

Bob Marley

A man born in forgotten Jamaican streets during the troubled war era rises to stir one of the biggest international uprisings along with almost single-handedly gifting the musical world with a beautiful new word called Reggae.

I dedicate this to you!

Haiku 03

Bob Marley ( February 6, 1945 - ∞ )

There are moments in your life when your inner calling guides you to connect your music player, set it to shuffle mode, turn on, tune in and drop out!

This haiku comes from two unrelated tracks that my phone decided to play in succession one fine morning.

A smile decorated the moment when I started humming the lyrics and stared outside at the racing tall green coconut trees.

Haiku 02

Three Little Birds.

Often in our life's eternal journey we come across bridges.
A dilemma is essential while making the choices that your heart and mind battle out.
We either walk to the other side in hope to find all that we imagine would quench our desires, or
light a fire to burn the bridge down.

Shimmering scintillating screen,

Clouds cover cast shadow.

Light! No illusion.

Some say I am lost,
losing away youth to nothingness.
Some say I am a dreamer,
dreaming away life into wilderness.
To them I sing, not all who wander are lost,
The mountains are calling and I must go!

I am happy basking in the unknown,
wrapping my soul in mysticism.

Watch me climb another hillock,

as you dare to dream within costly chains of complacency.

Daughter of Gaia I am, blissfulness be my soul's sole purpose,
The mountains are calling and I must rise!

The sun soars in the east, hides to the west,
when was last you gazed nature at its best?

My home's an illustrated book, many doodles diving through,

and many miles to walk, before dreamy dying eyes watching without clue.

Not the killing, but disorder - the inner disorder we must do,
The mountains are calling, and I must fly!

Nothings wrong, nothings right,

everything resides in your mind.

Do I get to sing one last time,

before you decry another crime.

Every step you take becomes a mistake,
The mountains are calling, and I must escape!

Do I know myself or the one you taught,
with dime and dollars all but nature be bought.

You have a beautiful open mind,

only inner beauty be blissful joy.

And I no more cry crawling for desires,
The mountains are calling, and I must try!

Shutting my eyes to listen low,

prying open thy third eye to let flow.

Sleep walking wearily when I can fly,

to seize all from maya; the cosmic lie.

Watered enough the lotus now must bloom,
The mountains are inviting, and I must boom!

Pray thy prayer to thy preyer,

before time slips off to now or never.

Imbecile spineless sinners slyly grin along,

won't you help sing the last love song?

For united we rise, divided we must fall,

When the mountains call, I must go!

Life delicately designed of momentary moments,

gratitude be my only attitude.

Why worry when He knows it all,

Floating freely, answer thy inner call.

The mountains are singing, and I must dance!

Future flies fast, past passes faster,

this present moment to ever last.

Breathe His beauty connecting with the One,

I bow low front thy moon and the sun.

Entering ecstatically into the magical void,

The mountains called, and I enjoyed!

What becomes when thee finally floating free,

no thing be nothing, all men must die!

Then why cry breathing delusional illusion,

when this life be His immortal impression.

Forever finding true blissfulness, sat-chit-ananda!

The mountains are calling, and I am gone!

*Kitta*

~ Bholenath.

*Shortlisted as this week's top "OneFrameStory"

#OFS65.

What might become could be now
But how she said not to worry.
Have seen it all, her eyes, the lens
Of perception, revealing stories untold.
Behold! The dream catcher un-winds!

Full of lust, like her breath to wander,
Wonder not, paint every moment to last,
So vast! The universe through her lens.
Stories shot, fame for not, disappear
Into clouds of oblivion. Call of nature,
Adventure she is drenched. Skip
not a beat, watch her unfurl like the star,
Farthest up high. Relax! make a wish,
With eyelids rolled heart full of dream,
Scream not of envy, the dream catcher un-winds!

You don't recognize the body, only the soul,
Like dew drops skimming on a leaf pure.
Sure, road not taken equals unexplored,
Path tread defines your destiny untold.
Behold! The dream catcher un-winds!

What's your will, what's the inner call?
Over flowing locks narrate the tall tale.
Fail? Only passing phase dictating lesson,
Of shutter sound and flash clicks.
Ticks the clock like waves of rising sea,
See, a year disappears. You still smile
All this while, amidst shimmering lens.
Hold thy breath for the story untold,
Behold! The dream catcher un-winds!

[[ Read the first Part]]
Let There Be Pink!

***

If you don’t eat your meat,
how can you have your pudding?

His ubiquity was getting unmistakably conspicuous,as nervous minutes ticked by!

I knew, paranoia, accompanied by indignant helplessness was lurking nearby to sweep underneath my sleeves, that slowly began to strangle me. A perfect setting for eeriness to establish its firm roots in the minds of those who overthink and tend to absorb the negativities around them.

The wrongly-timed blizzard outside had made it almost impossible for me to leave the bilking premises. I could risk sneaking underneath the cafeteria window, by frantically running down the emergency flight of stairs, surging towards the exit point.

However, the bleak possibility of landing to safety was severely outweighed by the numbness of my frigid limbs accompanied by the creamy physic induced anxiety and uneasiness.

The innocuous ubiquity of the crazy diamond couldn't be omitted from the equation, presently being outweighed by the possible presence of a diamond-eyed poltergeist.

I can ease your pain,

get you on your feet again!

Although everything around you seems mundanely familiar, it becomes increasingly operose to tame your complex-cognitive mind. I was at the epicentre of the near-perfect concoction of pure, paradisiac emotions along with a surge of tumultuous, chaotic thoughts.

I could sense moments slip by - each one of them liable for subtle psychological and physical transformations. Only if we allowed each juncture to shape as it was meant to be, our lives could be adorned with a deeper sense of awareness and understanding of one’s purpose of existence.

I was inexorably thirsty for the secret - the saucer full of undisclosed mysticism that vowed to be revealed only to the ears that turned up, tuned in and dropped out.

Persuaded to be the witness of the esoteric revelation, I frantically started frisking through my disorganized stuff for my earphones…

***

Floyd In!

A Saucerful of Secrets is the second studio album by English rock group Pink Floyd. It was recorded at EMI's Abbey Road Studios on various dates from August 1967 to April 1968.

It is both the last Pink Floyd album on which Syd Barrett would appear and the only studio album in which all five band members contributed.

A Saucerful of Secrets.

***

It is imperative to notice that at this point of the night; the magic potion had successfully injected its divine effect on my neurotic system.

Its ramification was swift and very subtle. I could feel my senses go awry - the tip of my hands started to quiver at the slightest of noise being made in the surrounding, including my own sub-conscious breath.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on relatively unimportant matters; instead, my brain chose to dive deeper into the realms of mysticism to unravel enigmas that chose to remain incognito.

I craved for MORE!

***

More is the first full-length soundtrack album, and third studio album, by the English rock band Pink Floyd, released on 13 June 1969 in the United Kingdom. More contains some acoustic folk ballads, a genre that appeared sparsely on later works.
This is Pink Floyd's first full album without founder member Syd Barrett, who was ousted from the group in early 1968 during the recording of their previous album. It is one of the two Pink Floyd albums to feature David Gilmour as the sole lead vocalist.

Main Theme

***

What is the first thought that comes to your head, synonymous with unfulfilled desires, your wildest fantasies, to be with the one you always wanted to be but never got a chance to be.

The ability to fantasize is a remarkable evolutionary adaptation. It allows us to create elaborate mental models of reality and play out our feelings and desires within them.

Through fantasy, our brains have provided us with a consequence-free space to gratify our desires, give our feelings expression, and to create and test alternate perspectives.

I absolutely adore working in the realms of fantasies.

Sex?

***

Ummagumma is a double album by the English progressive rock band Pink Floyd. It was released on 25 October 1969.

The album's title supposedly comes from Cambridge slang for sex. The studio album came as a result of Richard Wright wanting to make "real music”.

Careful With That Axe Eugene

***

Sometimes there are no words.

And sometimes that’s exactly how it should be!

Is there anyone else out there who was very skeptical of this new album that's supposed to be coming out in November?

I can't even explain how excited I got when I first heard the announcement. Actually, it was a link to an article and the link said something like "David Gilmour's wife confirms a new Pink Floyd album is coming". I nearly shit my pants, vomited and blew a load all at the same time. True Story!

While, many felt that without an official band or management statement, specifically announcing 'the end of Pink Floyd' we had to conclude the band still existed – even if not active; meanwhile, debates have raged and heated arguments dragged on inconclusively around sources like Wikipedia about exactly when Pink Floyd became 'inactive' and 'ceased to exist' as a band by virtue of some immeasurable, undetermined, organic process.

When we consider all of this, it seems fitting that Pink Floyd lays these questions to rest in such an ethereal and halcyon manner on

The Endless River.

Side one starts with voices discussing why people argue, before someone mutters, “The sum is greater than the parts”, and a deep boom gives way to the slow fade-up of scintillating synthesizers. David Gilmour uses an E-Bow on his guitar on this side, which makes it sound at times like it has been taped and played backwards and at others gives it a pleasing hum and buzz. It’s light-touch stuff, very pretty.

This is not to say that the music on The Endless River is mellow (some is) but to say that as a listener, from the beginning to the end of the album you sense you are on a mission, heading toward a final destination: one that is at peace with finality as the journey approaches denouement in the lyrics of Louder Than Words.

***

This album is definitely for the unquenchable thirst of all the Floyd fanatics, who have emotively been annexed with the group throughout their long and glorious walk to eternity.

With only three members of the original lineup alive, and only two musically contributing to this album, it is a must have for the compulsive ears that go comfortably numb on that one magical note from the maestro’s guitar!

Goosebumps, after each track unveils and fades out to the next, reminiscent of the good old Floyd era, that once again promises to etch an ever lasting impression on the Floyd-heads.

My brain pulsated, as I tuned in my earphones for the one last time. . .

The journey is beautiful when you are in a quandary about the limitless horizon – nebulous, yet tempting!

You muster courage and decide to plunge into the river, ride the final high tide, before taking the last bow to eternity. All the precognitive knowledge fails; so does the antecedent wisdom.

You lay still, submissive, yet alert to the flowing musical tides, as you allow the prism bearers to stride you to the other side.

A salty drop trickled down my pale cheeks, as I lay exhausted with my hands cupped against my puckered eyelids.

All my esoteric emotions gave away to a compulsive liquid state, as more tears gushed out from the corner of my eyes,

Submerging into the . . .

References

1. Pink Floyd Discography

2. More (soundtrack) Wikipedia

3. Ummagumma Wikipedia

4. Endless River review by Brain Damage Mag.

Oh by the way which one's Pink?

Working late in the night all by yourself, can be ecstatic sometimes. When the only noise echoing through the entire floor are made by your fingers coming down heavily on the subsidized keyboard, particularly the low pitched hollow sound released to append a white space in between two separate words.

Hitting the keys and gazing at my dim monitor screen to adore the magical letters dancing in front of me, adorning and giving shape to a nascent, unnamed thought that kept on lingering in my head for the past few weeks.

The diagonally-aligned ceiling lights overhead, along with the air conditioning speed had been turned down low to an unnoticeable level across the floor – reminiscent of a grim, impoverished store room, lined geometrically with revolving arm chairs that if pushed backwards reclined at an inaccurate but comfortable angle.

My eyes wore a murky shade of red – impoverished, sleep denied, an over-strained tool for visual assistance. The red color of my eyes could be attributed to the creamy herbs - hand-picked from the lush green hilltops.

The sempiternal battle between a cotton-mouthed throat and laggardly lazy limbs seldom ends in overpowering the latter. My legs lethargically carried me towards the cafeteria.

The cafeteria which during the daytime, bustled with boisterously decorated minions - wearing sleazy tags over their collar bones, discussing petty issues over long tea/coffee breaks - wore a deserted look then. Everything around seemed incommensurable that night -

The endless night!

I knew it was time to…

Floyd In

Pink Floyd was founded in 1965 by students Syd Barrett, Nick Mason, Roger Waters, and Richard Wright. They gained popularity performing in London's underground music scene during the late 1960s, and under Barrett's leadership released two charting singles and a successful debut album -

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967).

Astronomy Domine

Pow R. Toc H

Interstellar Overdrive

Floyd out

After one of the longest sigh's that night, I rested my earphones in front of my keyboard and took another sip from my coffee mug. It definitely smelled better than it tasted.
The weather widget on my desktop announced it was cold enough to decline a self-skimmed, steaming cup of coffee. I remember leaning back to my chair, intertwining my fingers, gazing pointlessly at the grim ceiling.

I could hear them mumble chaotically in my head, panting every now and then -

"I found [Barrett] in the dressing room and he was so ... gone. Roger Waters and I got him on his feet, [and] we got him out to the stage ... The band started to play and Syd just stood there. He had his guitar around his neck and his arms just hanging down."

I took a deep breath and gently closed my eyes. The dry outline of my lips forming a beatific smile, as I sank into the eternal void - caressing and embracing me.

* * *

The night was still unwinding. With every nervous moment passing by, I was getting drawn inside the prism to be spewed out into the magical realm of mysticism. It started to get eerie. An uncomfortable, but pleasing assurance embraced me - the pipers had arrived!

The beatific smile crawled back safely over my pale face.

My heart plunged as the pipers came knocking for more...

The Pipers At The Gate of Dawn
[#ComingSoon]

References

1. Pink Floyd Discography

2. Pink Floyd Wikipedia

[[Read the second part]]

A Saucerful of Floyd

Invocation

[Poem] An Ode to Freedom.

When no one helped, this is how we rescued a three day old kitten from a thirty feet deep bore well.

[FridayFrame] Invoke the Guru within.

#Haiku04 : Shivani

#Haiku03 : Bob Marley.

#Haiku02 : Three Little Birds.

#Haiku01: Burning Bridges.

#Haiku : Inspiron.

Mountains Calling!

The Dream Catcher.

A Saucerful of Floyd.

I can ease your pain,

get you on your feet again!

A Saucerful of Secrets.

Main Theme

Careful With That Axe Eugene

Let there be Pink!

About Author

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How High?

Amen!

Namastey!

I can ease your pain,

get you on your feet again!

A Saucerful of Secrets.

Main Theme

Careful With That Axe Eugene

About Author

Follow Me

Popular Posts

Labels

How High?

Amen!

Namastey!

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