Someone come and talk to me about poems and poets, about art and artists, philosophers and their philosophies, universe out there and universe inside.. here... I know you are out there, I know there are more people, weird, defiant, daydreamers, nerdy souls, word lovers.. Come and talk to me, even if a while and even if in lengths of time.. I am hungry for knowledge, I am thirsty for answers and may be together we can cross the realm of what is and what is not and perhaps someday find a place where everything 'be'...
I admit I have to learn a lot, and I might be able to contribute little on the talking part, but I can listen. I am a good listener, I can open up my heart and let you pour your thoughts into it. I thirst for such companions, my strange and weird friends who have all now grown up and become 'levelheaded and matured' I miss your crappy talks where we tried to make heads and tails of this world and ourselves. Then there were no walls between people, then we had this naivety which made us have faith even on a new found friend, we never questioned each others profession, age and motives. Then, when we could look into the eyes of each other and pass on a little bit of our souls, like breads around a dining table. We could feast on the pile of our souls, without having to fear that it might not be enough, that we would not have our fill..
Out here, it gets pretty darn tough to meet people without any walls. Everyone has a wall built around them, even I do, I learnt it with time. A lot of mistrust, judgemental thinking and generalisation runs here. I think human souls need osmosis in regular basis to survive.. exchange of stories, feelings, thoughts.. learning from each other... But with these walls around, nothing gets exchanged. And soon you become a soul zombie, your view of the world gets narrower, you start to put people under catagories, friends become mere networking equipments... and I might go crazy.
I was talking to someone this last week and he admited that he felt the same when I said that people have glass walls around them here.. you see each other but the walls seal out any real form of communication. There are so many isolated single stories here. I have had my single stories about people as well, but I have learnt to shed them gracefully. He was one of them too. I had a thought that people from the other spectrum of living were different than us who lived under the shadows. But talking to him made me realise again what is a simple truth that we keep forgetting, no matter where we live, we share the same sky! We have our differences but we share similarities too. We love, we have our fears, we have our insecurities, we have our hopes... Among so many stereotyping about who is who, questions about morality of certain group of people, questions about their lifestyle.. I have learnt that it is essential to keep open mind when it comes to people, in order to avoid the danger of falling into the traps of a narrow mind.
Here I remember Chimamanda Adiche, an African writer-ess, and her talk about how we form single stories about people and community. I can relate so much to what she says here. I have been having the mental shift she talks about as well.
These days have been strange, I watched an animaed movie Rango and what a feast it was to my senses. The weird imagery, walking cactus plants under the amorphous moonlight stirred something inside me. I know how they feel, forever walking towards water but finding none. But there was something else that stuck up a chord.
"A man can never escape his own story." says the imaginary friend the green lizard has. I have been feeling it too. " You are like a gypsy witch soul trapped inside those expensive business suits, you should shed some of those walls and open up to the universe in order to be more receptive of your true self." A friend had said. I have always known that, though it was temporarily forgotten. The seeds were always there, just that a thick layer of hot tar had been laid and the road was just a lifeless, cold, coarse asphalt, slithering like a black snake. Time has worked it's magic though. The seeds, the minutest form of life have decided to fight back and broken through the lifeless layer of black. It has cracked and new leaves have sprouted. Soon the whole path will be covered with green leaves and flowers of every hue and design that you can possibly imagine.
