UNPREDICTABLE! BIZARRE!

Life is unpredictable. Life behaves in bizarre ways.

Routine experiences in life – yet disturbingly new in their shock value – that make our thought processes so sick that we feel like resigning to our fates.

You never know what is going to happen the next moment yet you plan for it. That is human nature. Building you future on your perceived permutations and combinations is human nature. We all do that.

We pass. We fail. We feel stuck.

Sometimes, life walks along with us. Sometimes, it chokes our vision. Sometimes, it simply goes blank.

Routine experiences in life – that make us question our existence – or simply co-opt us to get along with the flow.

But come what may – a life we all have got – to live.

It is unpredictable. It is bizarre. Yet it is the only life that we have got – that we will get.

At times, it shocks you and it is true that no one else can do anything for you. It is only you who can find a way. It doesn’t matter how sick you are feeling, you have to find a way out of it.

You have to live them as routine experiences – being always conscious that they are not going to dictate your thought process – that they are not going to be the person for you.

Yes, that is always unpredictable – a shock’s shock-value – yet you have to find the threshold of it.

It’s bizarre – yet imperative to live your life here.

©SantoshChaubey

IT WAS A SCEPTICAL SMILE..

It was a sceptical smile
Not sure of
Whether to go for it
Or let it pass just like that
Life so far
Had been a tale
Inked and sung
But with long pauses as well
When sentiments betrayed
And trust was treaded
The colour was so dark
That it took years
To get to that hinge
To see through the layers
Of life and of living
Yes, smile is liberated again
But scars remain
Reminding of that darkness
And of duplicities
Life inks its tales again
And look for stories
But layers desist pauses now
And when you came here
Promising to stay
It questioned more
Than healing those scars
It’s probably not your fault
But it’s not even mine

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

SURROGATE BANALITIES

REFLECTIONS

“Keeping yourself hooked to the surrogate banalities –
– that is the worst you do to your soul!”

Surrogate Banalities

SURROGATE BANALITIES

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

LIFE, SOMETIMES..

Life, sometimes
Is bizarre
Like curls of your hair
Inviting, comforting
Yet mysteriously silent
Like your words
They speak much
But say nothing
Life, sometimes
Speaks so alienated
Like a story
With no end
Hours went on
Days passed
There is a flow
We both sense
Yet you failed
The two lifes
And many lives
They lived
Life, sometimes
Sounds strange
Like your gaze
Intense
But unsure of intent
They speak much
But say nothing
Like curls of hair
They lock me in
Yet leave us out..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES – THAT PEN

This is my place to reminisce on memories of my life gone so far – picking up some thread, some element, some event, some experience from the days in my past – randomly – as they come – because we all are men of memories.

Here this is about this thing – a pen from my past – that came to my mind while discussing the proposition of ‘letting things go’ in life.

Like many, I, too, had this thing in my school days – collecting pens – and trying to get as soon as possible that new trendy introduction in the stationary shop that would be showcased – like a jewel of the category.

Obviously, there were cost constraints and I had to keep my pocket money into consideration while going for such ‘I must have’ decisions.

This pen – Add Diamond Roller – was recently launched in the market – when I saw it in the shop – in 1990s – when I was in 8th standard. I liked it at the first sight so much that I decided I would have it. But then there was this big problem. The pen was priced at Rs. 99, a considerably big sum for a schoolboy in those days, especially when it was the last week of the month. In fact, I had no money to purchase the pen if I had to manage the remaining days of the month with my pocket money.

But then the impulsive desire to have the pen was so intense that I found myself unable to wait for even a day more.

So, what could be done? So, what did I do?

Simple, and in fact, as I had a reputation of a good son, after a bit of convincing, I got some advance on my next month’s pocket money along with the money required to buy the pen.

The next day, the first thing I did was I rushed to the shop before going to the school to have the pen so that I could show it to others, could brag about it, as well as could feel good about it that I had such an expensive and latest addition to premium pens category in the market.

And for the whole day, I bathed in its glory.

And then it happened – the development that made it a memory worth reminiscing – because of its shock value.

I used to commute from auto-rickshaw in those days. I was very cautious about the pen and had it firmly slipped in my trouser’s pocket while boarding the one to my house. As usual, I was with my ‘feel good’ feelings, instilled with the pen’s possession now.

As soon I reached home, I rushed to show it to everyone there. I slipped my hand in my trouser’s pocket to have it and then I felt it – the shock of lifetime in those days. I had lost the pen somewhere – the pen that I had so cravingly purchased in the morning. It had slipped out of my pocket somewhere, probably in the auto-rickshaw.

At that instant I felt the whole world had come upside down. I felt both dumb and numb. While there were words of empathy, sympathy and even mockery on my loss, I suddenly felt detached from the world around me, and rushed to get some isolation.

Well, I didn’t know anything about ‘letting go’ or so in those days and how could we in that age, when we spend the whole life in convincing ourselves about the idea but it took me many days to get past the shock that I had so suddenly felt from the high pedestal of having the most expensive and elegant pen in the whole classroom. What would my friends and classmates say in the class next day? Certainly, you don’t like words of consolation in those moments.

The memory of this incident comes to revisit me again and again – in different hues – after different developments – but with similar core – even after so many years – because some of us build our life on memories – and I am certainly one of those fools. Yes, it makes me feel better that I have learnt to enjoy them or reconcile with them. That pen could not become part of my collection but its memory stayed – with different slants – in different circumstances.

When I thought to share this today, I was not sure if the pen was still available in the market but a Google search took me to its website that told me it was very much there.

Add Gel

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THERE..

Sometimes, I look there
To see if it is still there
Well, there is this canvas
I cannot say
But then I never needed it
Still, there is this feeling
That I could be there
That I had to be there
Filling it with colours
I felt comfortable with
Existing in that space
Where there lies a void now
Trying to speak to me
Through the disconnect
That time could not bring
Sometimes, I look there
To see if I can still go there
Bathing me in colours
My soul always longs for
Sometimes, I look there..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

..EYES WERE SPEAKING A THOUSAND NIGHTS

Dazzled, as in a clear summer night
The eyes were speaking a thousand nights
And every word was as meaningful,
As the moon on the brightest of nights
A quiet was there,
As if with years of longing behind
A connect that had got lost somewhere
The eyes were speaking a thousand nights
Reaching, as love in a clear rainy night
Trying to speak for the days lost
The night had a song with a blue note
Lyrically flowing, away from the lost suns,
And away from the ignored moons,
It was clearly not a night of confessions..

Forever

..EYES WERE SPEAKING A THOUSAND NIGHTS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

WHEN YOU STOP EXPECTING..

COLORES INFINITUM

Once upon a time, there was a man. He lived his life with a mixed bag of experiences. He could finally find the elements that would work for his conscience. Others, simultaneously, could see the elements, interpreting his life in their own terms. Life had its own parameters to judge his life in its own, routine way.

The mixed bag that he had was driven by a sense of contentment that he could finally reconcile with or absorb what was coming his way – but not at the cost of his self-respect. He had seen more of them making him feel low, but with passing time, he had stopped expecting, and it prepared him to take on every challenge in life.

When you stop expecting, even from you own ‘self’ – from your self-declared goals – you start learning and mastering the art of handing life, along with all its negative shades – you start learning the craft of keeping you away from ‘you’ of the moment – to make you one with your ‘you’ that you have thought of – when the time comes.

When you stop expecting from people around you, in your personal circles, and in your social circles, you start on a process where the only thing that remains accountable to you – is – how do you feel at the end of the day – that you came back to ‘you’ at the end of it. There are good people around you but there are no detractors, if they do/go otherwise.

When you stop expecting from life, your ‘yesterday’ and ‘tomorrow’ become self-aware and conscious of your ‘today’ – willingly or unwillingly concentrating your life in the moment that you are living on the day – because, you have taken elements that were in your past, assimilating them – and you are not going to ‘let yourself down’ if your tomorrow has something else, also, to offer.

When you stop expecting – you start accommodating – your ‘self’ of the day when it is the time to say ‘good bye’ – and – life and the events in life that were otherwise not acceptable. You start seeing people and their ways from their circumstances and perspectives too. You stop categorizing people in different mental blocks. They are there or there are not there.

Once upon a time, there was a man. At some point during his life, after having a run of negatives, after feeling long days of swollen thoughts, he was back to the ways that he had curated for himself – sans elements of expectations from anything, from anyone, including his own ‘self’. The spirit of ‘liberation’ that he felt every time he did so became leitmotif for him finally.

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

RAINBOW CLICKED AT 32000 FEET – IN A RANDOM CLICK

I usually don’t take snapshots while in a flight but the view today compelled me to react with my cellphone camera spontaneously. Yes, it was not the first time that I had witnesses a rainbow while in a flight. But somehow, I had not done it before today.

The flight was at 32,000 feet, en route to Delhi from Varanasi. It was hot and humid in Varanasi but raining in Delhi since this morning – so as usual – the Monsoon vagaries continue.

Mid-way to the journey, Monsoon’s playfulness suddenly pulled my attention when the aircraft’s pilot was announcing specifications on how the flight was doing. My eyes, staring out of the window, saw this amazing arch, overarching the whole panorama in its range.

And I don’t know how, but my right hand, on its own, slipped to my trouser’s pocket to pick cellphone to click the view. Yes, I could not do it when it was fully young in the range of my eyesight as unlocking the handset and capturing the frame took some time. But, even if I could not capture the full rainbow arch, the shots that I captured were enough to give me thoughts to write on an image created by it.

Flight Rainbow Arch 1 - W

Flight Rainbow Arch 2 - W

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

IS A LIFE I SEEK..

Sometimes, I feel suffocated
And want to run away
But I don’t know the end
Even if I ask
Horizon is a mirage
That calls me in such moments
I want to be there
Even if I know it is not there
Time plays with me, sometime
Aggravating with questions
I had left seeking answers for
Sometimes, I feel so numb
To response to the excesses
That I let them pass
Going deeper inside
Not seeking many ‘whys’
Sometimes, I feel lost
By the maze life comes with
And I desperately look for
The way out
To a path, to any path
Hoping it will take me
To the horizon
Yes, it’s been a mirage so far
But the journey to it
Has been the way ahead
Because I know
Going beyond the end
Is a life I seek..
Beyond this numbness
Beyond the questions behind it

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/