Last night

Last night

I was walking through my faint dream
A mild breeze kissing my bare face
And whispering secrets of my love with my untidy mood and hair
I walk on listening to my self voice,….
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There is something diminishing in time
Nether I do not understand it clearly, nor I know fully
But it is a feeling, an illusion of my own thought
Thought always evolve in complications …
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A new thought born in these complications and the story never ends
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I walk on with time and my destiny
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There are rushing thoughts created by my emotions,….
Each of them stupidly creating neural noise
Ages after ages,..........
The thoughts are writing my memory and my genetic code
How many experiences were dead before an emotion born?
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Where are the people those were in my eyes and in my singularities of life?
Why people disappear everyday
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I tired with my untidy thoughts
Tortured by my own reason and unreason
Never at rest, no life to entertain
What is in deep,.....a DNA, or, ATP,.....all burning and breaking of bonds
Where is the life, is it in chemicals?
How matter got life and lost it?
………………
When Ameba learnt to sense the light
When our first emotion born???............................
Matter with a curiosity
Matter with an emotion
Matter with love and hate,........
Matter with consciousness/rational
Matter with unconsciousness/irrational
Is thought just a magical arrangement of matter, like solid, liquid, air, particle, waves,..........................
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Do I entangled with you

Probably I'm longing for a Dream
I feel Asleep and Dreamed of the "Dream"
Had I know it was a dream
I would not wake up!
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Neither Getting up nor sleeping
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A dream like memory
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Perhaps. I'm looking into myself
My imaginary thoughts of the world...
In that case,..
How I ever Know you!!!!

COLD PLAY-A rush of blood to head

I’m listening to “COLD PLAY-A rush of blood to head,” I enjoy listening to pure instruments. In the morning, I love to listen Piano and I feel, the strokes on the keyboard are like the rain drops on the earth. It is a wonder, the temporal dimension transforms into spatial dimension as visual experience, what a stunning logic of the mind. Perhaps, music allows us to share our feelings with universal feelings of human. Music is written in order to understand our being also part of the nature.

The present days are tricky in my life, old blood gone from my body and I’m recruiting completely new blood, this blood very much sensitive to beauty and inter play of political economy. I transforming into a filmmaker, I start finding my feet on the little earth, we assume a pose before we start anything and I have got a pose.

A long way to go, I feel to tell something, share something that I have seen in the world in different ways, I want to tell all the secrets of my heart that I have been carrying over the years, and the harsh face of the world I have faced. I want to show my parallax view of the world that I have seen. I have chosen film making to purely to express myself in more beautiful ways, but at the moment I’m for away from the real dreams, it is just like my lover, a distance reality . Beautiful dreams are like platonic forms, like love, always inspire to reach them but never exist. All I have to do is, I have to transform all my thinking activity into symbolic forms. Perhaps, Creativity is an ability to expressing our expriences of the world in symbolic form.

I lost many in order to gain so many. Loss of an object does two things, we lost object itself and we lose all the dreams that are associated with the object, an act of melancholy. As Zizek puts it, “melancholy is not simply the attachment to the lost object but the attachment to the very original gesture of its lose.” As Marx says absence of basic commodities create a desire and Deleuze says the desire does not have an object, so we get mad when we lost!. It is funny that an absence of lovely things in our hearts creates rich illusions than when they are present-.

The time has changed and kept me in new place and new thought, all these years I had carried so many experiences, I gain so many things by losing things. Now all experiences kept me in a different mood, now I'm a story teller! Now I can see very different life, all the basic structure of thought has changed in a profound ways, thanks for harsh side of human face and fate.

I have duality in my thinking, sometimes, I’m like a poet, playing with metaphors in the platonic world and some other time I cry a lot, like a poor former of India. May be opposites live and exist together, like light and dark and men and women-.

The past reflects eternally between two mirrors-the brighter mirror of words and deeds, and the dark one, full of things we didn’t do or say (Shantaram).

Charitra Heenulu

Ayasapadatu Ayassuposi
Jookotti Joolapaadi
Pastulundi Pustelammi
Meetuku kosam Batuku ammina
Natallalu...Charitra Heenulu
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Naaruposi neeruposi
Chemta mingi Rkatam chimmi
Bhumi sogasu velikiteesina
Naa rytubiddalu...chartraheenulu


P.S: After reading Sree Sree Mahaprastanam

Ilayaraja

I was listening to "ILAYARAJA's master piece
ASHA and HARI HARAN rendering my soul, effortlessly
What a wonder it creates tranquality with their coherence
A clarity and divine purpose of love
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Time transforms into space
Notes forgotten temporality
Evoking my consciousness
From ages and ages
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The rhythmic discrete temporal Piano stokes creating a geometrical scene

Night clube

In the "night bar"
Decoration of bodies
People, melt their looks and lips
Touch their bodies
Try to bring attention to "bodies and boodles"
A power play of deception-
What do you do?
What your hobbies?
.............??????
Cress-Cross of questions
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Absence of relations
In the mating bodies
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We lost our sense of self
By confined to desire
Desire has no object
Irrelevant to LOVE!
Love required for sex
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Still people are apart mentally even after they naked-
A pathetic human condition
Sexuality does not require all this stuff
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Act of invisible evil in our unconscious soul
Real life is elsewhere and forgotten
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