Subtle Kaleidoscope

“Choices “ is a smaller word than destination, but “ choices” can ruin or make your destiny.  They took Robert frost to a la la land he kind of hoped for and feebly wanted to be on, but left a forgotten road not taken. It made that aubade, sung by a solitary reaper, well known but left a dying ardent desire in Wordsworth to ask whether the song was for her lover or her solidarity. Choices that made W.E. Henley stand Invictus; made him the master of his soul while everyone was busy conquering the world. .Choices that made the brook to go on forever. Choices that made Sylvia commit suicide even after she saw that clinquant, tinsel-like depth in a simple mirror. Choices that led to the heart wrecking ephemeral of Antony and Cleopatra or the Romeo Juliet. A choice to choose one thought over another that made Wordsworth think he was as lonely as a cloud in the belt of dancing daffodils.  I have also made certain choices; we all make them. The trick of life isn’t in making the right...

The waves were coming back; To the islands of ignorance. To people who count stars on their fingertips...   No, wait Now they retreat Away, To the creeks between the cliffs Through straight bends. Heading towards a wishful land With uncountable moons and countable sand.   The islands of ignorance wait Till the day turns black But for the waves, Well,  They were never coming back.

🍁 The maple story🍁     Someone asked me one day, “Does the maple fall, or does it blossom during the autumn season?” Hearing the word ‘maple’ always brings the image of autumn, the grey skies, fallen leaves, and sunsets. It reminds me of all the elements that are vanishing into stillness as if the very soul in them is slowly dissipating Also, I have been told by my parents and teachers that maple falls when it's autumn. So I answered boldly “Of course it falls” But that someone again asked me, “Well, that’s the standard answer everyone would give, isn’t it? That the maple falls. Try thinking unconventionally.” It’s really hard to change the palace of your conventions and let the pillars of your amassed knowledge, which hold the palace upright, fall to mere facts when an unprecedented, unconventional traveler enters our conventional world. Our conventions bound us to the known, to the grounds of our past experiences because we can feel it beneath us but when t...