The Thinking Man

How many times do you think in love?

After the first few years of my being born — when I was thought capable enough — I was told to think. “What do you think? What do you think you should have done? Were you thinking at all? Why don’t you think before doing something?”

I don’t think I’m the only one to have been interrogated thus. If conversations and television is anything to go by, then this is representational of all of us, all through life — it’s cyclical. Heck, even I’ve thrown these lines and variants of them at others. I’m guilty, and I can’t shirk the blame. There’s no way I can, even if I would love to.

It took me ages to learn how to think. I’m still learning. But what of those who don’t think...

You don’t think about music... you just feel it.

You don’t think about being in the presence of the majestic Himalayas... you simply experience it.

You don’t think about the gushing sound of a flowing river... you just sway with it.

You don’t think about running to your safe zone/person when you need to hide from the world... you just run.

Thinking before jumping off a plane for a sky dive doesn’t result in jumping... NOT thinking about it, does.

You don’t think about removing your hand in case something’s hot (pls note... something, not someone!)... you just remove it.

You don’t think about clenching your fists when something makes you fiercely mad or happy or sad or excited... you just clench your fists.

Most importantly, you don’t think before you love someone... you just fall...

But you usually do think a zillion times before you say “I love you” to someone.

So, if for all the important things in your life you don’t need to think, or rather, you shouldn’t think... why do we learn to think at all? Doesn’t that just hold us back?

Rodin's Thinking Man in Paris. Photo courtesy: wayneconrady.wordpress.com

Lost, but at the same place…

Simply started writing this one, and for some reason the mind spoke in verse rather than the usual prose. Don't know how it's turned out, but here goes :-)

I’m stuck in time

Desperately searching for some rhythm and rhyme

Or is it randomness that I seek?

I can’t seem to make up my mind

Looking out the window, my dreams floating on faraway feathers

Into imagined worlds and even into the reality of others

I want, nay need, to be someplace else

But where?, ask my walking boots, sitting comfortably on the shelf

I don’t know the answer, don’t know if I’ll ever know

Do you know? Have you that knowledge that eludes me so?

I’m lost, but how can that be?

I’ve been at the same place for an eternity

Maybe I should just wait for those feathers to fall

They carry my hopes and dreams after all

My thoughts seem to make the same old rounds

Encapsulated by walls all around

I don’t even know how many walls there are, so bare

Solids cover my eyes…the utter greyness, brownness…

Bah! I really don’t care

I just need to know…is that window a mirage or is it for real?

It tortures me, teases me, mocks me

Shows me a world of possibilities, of things unknown

So delicious in their unfamiliarity

My senses can almost touch them, but alas, my hands cannot

My soul can almost feel them, but my body cannot

I am so lost, but I am here

I know my coordinates, even those of my unshed tears

The whispers in my mind grow louder each day

I’m not kidding, when I say these shouts are palpable

I’d climb over that teasing window, if only my restless limbs were stable

I need to get out, need to break free

Of these shackles with which my own mind binds me

Can someone hear my silent but deafening cry?

It comes out each time I sigh.