Search This Blog

Thursday, February 7

The art of listening.

If I have to choose one thing I have acquired from the time I was a child, it would be the art of listening. I remember distinctly the glow on my face every time I succeeded to convince my grandma to narrate a bedtime story.

It was a mutual agreement religiously put to use every summer until I turned ten. She would tell me one story every night that would put me to sleep, dreams filled my mind with visions conjured up with the help of her lively and vivid narratives. I would ardently listen to every word said, nodding my head to indicate my attention. This was the time when my dreams turned vivid.

I realize the importance of listening. How does a baby learn to talk? How do people learn languages? Why it is called an art? Why so much importance is given to it? Listening is not an act, it is also one of the five senses that we have. Listening leads to learning.

In today’s fast paced world where a person has to skim and dip through their lives just to be able to keep a pace with it. It is highly important to stand for a while and give yourself time to understand what exactly you want and how you want it to be communicated.

Listening is a very important part of the process of communication, interaction and action, all of it can cease to exist if the concept of listening is ignored. It is how the cycle of communication completes. Without exchange of ideas, thoughts and data it becomes redundant.

To grow as an individual it is very important to learn to listen as to effectively communicate to the people around you. An organization grows only if interaction between its employees is clear, when the communication is timely and effective and the feedback is prompt and efficient and thats where importance of listening comes into picture.

An ode to him.

Death, peculiar and pious,
One of the queer things of life.

I often wonder how is it that
Sometimes even foresight

and the triumphant moonlight
Cannot strengthen you

To bear the sight of a life less body
On a darkened daylight.

What is worse you might decide
A body with a soul and a thudding heart
already dying? or
Him, a relentless soul with a
Passion to live each moment?

Ever looked into the eyes'
of a man dying?

They are alive with a desperate hope
to live for a minute more
Ever looked deep into the eyes'
of a man for whom the future remains unknown?

You will see tinge of hidden sadness
His eyes will speak a thousand words

I can’t shed a tear
Cause there is seldom fear
A known fact that it’s all a part of living
Just about everything

What is it about death
I don't seem to understand

Contemplating and condemning
I hate this circle of life
Why should I be given something
only for it to be taken far away?

But oh!! I wish so wish..
I could hold on to you for a little longer..

My precious dear life
Oh! see there it goes away...

For Rufus.

Friday, February 1

Swooping Malls and Whopping Walls.

Sounds inviting … what is it about the activity - shopping? Some would say that shopping is an amazing stress buster! Some may say it is something that rejuvenates them, for some it might be the time to socialize while for quite a few of us its the time to let your hair loose, grab your wallet and zoom to the place where you find it all – the mall.

For me shopping at a mall entails a whole day outing! A family picnic or ‘freak-out’ time with my friends. Whatever the reason might be, I know that at the end of the day even though each and every nerve in my leg and head might be ready to burst… I am satisfied.

During the first days of college when I was a fresher, most of the time had money enough just to travel by bus and time enough (through strategic bunking) to visit a mall almost every second day! and I did.

Music, AC, Perfumes, glitter, clothing, accessories, shoes, and all the hullabaloo was inviting-. What more? All we had to do is whisper the word ‘sale’ the next moment you wouldn’t even catch a shadow of us.

The best times were near the changing room, after rummaging through all the stuff we would head towards them and there it would begin… the shrieks and laughter, the giggles and the muffled cries of ‘oops this doesn’t fit me’ or ‘whoa! You look stunning’ andd more laughter!

Now a days, I do go to the mall… but not to window shop and freak out any more… I go to buy the things I want to and head home but the memories linger, making me smile with each step I take – with alert eyes and my shoes in place I walk on with the throng of the crowd, hop on to the escalator …

I see there’s still more.

found dead in the living.

i am shattered and stuck..
here in isolation, i speak my voice
in real i cry not a tear
its life, i let it pass
not this once but time after time.

is it me? or the time?
a phase like in a rhyme?
i ask, head held high
ready for the drop high up
from the sky.

i wait, yet again
to find all the remains
giving that second chance
a change, i tell myself
wait, patience pays

day after day i see no tear,
no drop of rain
just a little fear
fear to try, fear to fly
beyond the mountains and the skys
why cant i be more clear?
is it a dream? or is it real?

i am beyond sorrow and pain
yes, thats what i see it to be
loved and felt all that could be
there must be more i know
i still breathe, with blood in my veins
what is this? it comes again and again

like the wind, the breeze
the ripples and sunshine
i see it has no beggining or an end,
a wheel turning again, yet again
far away, i see her go
an angel i know.
a silent prayer is all i say

oh please! take me with you
no sound, no cry
just something i passed by
is it vague? let me be
thats how it is; a cage

no voice, no light
some hope and a will to fight
stronger after each rain
each wash.
the lanes i pass,
dont breathe the last
theres life i see

i know. i am living time again.