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Showing posts from October, 2009

ME AND MY TAIL

The area where I have to grow most, and fast, is: my emotional maturity. I am extremely sensitive. I have a heart which is golden. Trusting others, helping them... going the extra mile, doing things without being told... yes, all these things come naturally to me. I can live with the bare minimum... starve, if required... walk for miles, if required... and, yet, when it comes to my emotions, I often feel the discomfort... whenever they take the better of me, whenever I express my sadness, pain, anguish, anger, my fears and even my ignorance. I express my emotions with the hope that the world is good, sensitive, and empathetic. Maybe, I am right - or, down right stupid - in thinking that the world is good, sensitive and empathetic. I, often, suffer because the world doesn't respond to my emotions the way I believe the world to. Often there is only a cold indifference, and often there is that remorseless bluntness. I feel let down, betrayed... and angry. Some years ago, in a workshop

OUT FROM MY HIDING

I just thought, today, that I should come out of my hiding. Almost six months... and not a single piece I have posted! Many ask me - 'Why? What happened?" I just tell them - 'Nothing. I 'consciously' chose not to write for some time... and allow myself to go through some new experiences. They say, "A writer has to write; a singer has to sing; and teacher has to teach... and so it goes." I ask myself this question: "Am I a writer?" I feel extremely happy, in fact, blissful and fulfilled, whenever I settle down to write. So, from that yardstick, I must say, that I am a writer... Whether I chose to write or not to write... inside my being there is this deep longing to write, express. Days, weeks, months - and even years - may go by... the soul of a writer would never dry out. I have so much to say, so much to share... it can only become profound, and vast. So, may the writer write... may the soul sing... may the happiness spread. I am out of my hid
THE WILD, WAYSIDE FLOWERS
There is, always, something extra-ordinary in the wild, wayside flowers...