Showing posts with label mind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mind. Show all posts

Thursday, July 13, 2017

The Mirage Of A Mirror


Mirrors have been such an intriguing creation by humankind.


  • It empowers you when you lift up your clothes to feed yourself the beauty of your own body. It discourages you when you closely look at the acne that has cropped up unexpectedly on your face.

  • It makes you smirk when you watch your taut nerves peeking out of your muscular built. It catches you as you notice the first few strands of gray hair in the sideburns.



Mirrors deceive us into thinking we are the most beautiful, the most handsome, the curviest, most muscular, most decent, charismatic, cherubic, capable of being different. . . . . and unique.


Mirrors even make us feel vulnerable

We look at ourselves searching for our own objectionable features, unpleasant flab of fat and cellulite, undesirable marks on our body, the off-putting complexion of our skin, thin and slender frames, signs of aging—graying hair and wrinkles and bags under the eyes.


At a moment that reflects back a version of who we are—good, bad, ugly—all of us is captured by such a preposterous piece of brittle object.


                                                    The Mirror


A powerful and highly underrated masterpiece subjected to mere glances and quick thoughts.


  • The mirror is where an orator hides his fears. 
  • It is where a dancer shuns her bad posture. 
  • A baby derives joy watching themselves smile.
  • A model engulfs fear and emanates confidence watching her own stunning image.



An animal apes itself in a mirror, discovers the secret and moves on, but we humans remain transfixed by watching our own self in various avatars. 


We come back, again and again, every morning, every visit to the bathroom, to the dressing table, to the salon—we come back to test ourselves for perfection and offer ourselves a piece of self admiration, at times, criticism.


We are as fragile as the object that creates a reflection of our selves


We aren’t really what we see in the mirror—we are much more at different times, doing different things. Beauty portrays in a good deed—giving, offering, taking, receiving, sacrificing—when we are unaware of our image.


By simply hanging on the wall, in a frame—mirrors take away the control from ourselves, giving us either frustration or satisfaction. Such is the power of this tool. 


Is it really true that an inanimate object cause so much more than a stir?



Wake up and look at yourself. Penetrate into your own eyes and shush your caustic mind. 


Don't blame the mirror.



Image Source:https://studiojoslizen.wordpress.com/tag/mirror/


Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Fig-meant of Imagination

When there is a fig and when you think about its meaning and being it is called fig-meant of imagination. You might wonder what is she talking about!
Moving out of the ever blinding cloud of words that don’t make sense at all, I directly come to the point- Imagination.

Waking dream or imagination is a mesmerising thing to think of! You can design your imagination the way you want to, put into it, your favourite colours and see the flowers in it bloom and scent according to your will and wish. All of it, without letting anyone know about it. You sit alone, silent in your room or you be in a crowded place, like waiting for a train at the railway station, you are bound to dream, straying to the far-far lands and staring unknowingly somewhere. Sometimes it happens that you are lost looking right in the face of a person until his/her reverted gaze catches you and you bounce out of the stillness.

People imagine things they think of, they wish for, they fear and dread, they envy, they get angry about, to sum up, I guess all the emotions do form a figment of the imagination. This is what drives them, to be, to work towards what they want. For example, a person sees a rich man; he dreams of himself getting down from a car, spending his fortune on things he always wanted for himself, so he starts looking for better job opportunities or find some way to earn more. Another example a girl who is plump looks at another who is slim and beautiful. She thinks of herself in that state, how good looking she would be, probably she might get a nice guy. She imagines herself like that and wishes to be slim too so she starts to do daily exercise. Imagination is a positive trigger to few but it can have a negative impact too.
In order to become rich, that person can try taking advantage of others or deceive others so that he gets on top. That girl might start dieting and ruin her health to become like someone else. So it is important that one thinks positive for realising their waking dream.
It is such a beautiful part of our brain with an ability to imagine what cannot exist. It provides grounds to prove that nothing is impossible. For example, who thought a human could fly like a bird until somebody imagined it and here we are flying up to space.
I read somewhere that – when a wish is exactly same as fear, then it is a nightmare. Applies to even imagination, doesn’t it? But then all you do it shake you out of that and move on, though somewhere it still stays in your head.
That was bad, what you thought, it was wrong. You are not supposed to think like that. Imagination gives you wings to break all the bounds constructed by the wrong and right book of humans and society. So many complications and one easy task, just Imagine!
Some follow the trails and match the dots laid by their imagination and do something immensely good and extremely worst, a matter of control over the mind. Everything you are and will be is a figment of your imagination and your urge to follow it. Your thoughts are just the bridges or paths to them.
Fig-meant, did I say fig? You know it looks like an onion and its inside looks like an inside of a jellyfish! I want to eat one, no not jellyfish, am talking about the onion.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

S - H - E

 

Everything was crumbling down. The downfall was expected, sooner or later.  Her mind spoke the bitter truth that she had accumulated over the years subconsciously inside her head, in the form of a fear from her previous experiences. It had been the best of her previous years, living the dream she had woven turn by turn, with careful consideration of each step that she had taken in building of this relationship over the period of time. And now what lay before her was a relationship that succumbed to the distances and misunderstandings that unexpectedly did more harm than it should have. She sat in her bathroom on the dry, white tiles with her head in between her elbows and her fingers clasped at the back of her head. She wailed, sometimes too loudly and then dropping her voice to silence in between breaths. Crying off the pain made her feel lighter but then it was equally exhausting in the end, that she gladly accepted to fall asleep and forget everything for some time for the least. 

 

She held on to the silence for a minute and went blank solely concentrating on the mind riff separating the two tiles and the dirt that stuck in between them. It was strange how you drift off and suddenly come to bring your mind to vague things with utter concentration for a jiffy and then roll back to your reality again. She got up, looked around and out of habit went in front of the mirror. She blankly stared herself for a second and then recalled what he had once said about her eyes being beautifully big and her lips being in their perfect curves and color, which suddenly dawned the reality upon her in bolts of emotional blows. She cried again and looked on at herself as she cried half unbelievably half animatedly. She walked out when she could no longer handle the mix of emotions that her own reflection teased her with. Falling on the bed she took less than five minutes to go in a deep sleep, her swollen sockets still trickled a tear on the pink bed sheet underneath her.

 

She woke with a sore throat and blocked nose, the cold bathroom floor was to blame. The light from the huge window had been blinding and irritating to her eyes that were still swollen with continuous crying her grief out. She looked around, sighed and quickly got up to draw them close. She comforted her eyes with the darkness against the heavenly morning light. Backing to her bed she thought of him, and the way he would cuddle against her into a spoon from behind, his heavy arms resting gently over her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. She wished she could talk to him looking into his glinting brown eyes, holding his hands to give him a sense of care through her touch, consoling and comforting him with not just her words but her presence and blow the cloud of misunderstandings away which had unnecessarily shadowed their four year relationship to an extent of giving up on it.

 

May be she could sleep some more and just let the pain subside some more yet again but thoughtfully and  involuntarily got up and walked towards the bathroom. A hot shower might be a healer she thought. So on, she opened her bathroom door with her lousy eyes and turned right to look into the mirror once again. She saw herself, emotionally exhausted, her eyes puffed up with overworking tear glands. The back wall had clothes hung onto steel hooks which she thought didn’t belong to her. She frowned and had a closer look at the mirror, with concentration, to what she just saw instead of turning back. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she got a wider view of her surroundings in the mirror. A halt in surprise would have been a delayed and expected reaction, taking in account her exhaustion from crying herself out, but she suddenly turned around to see two cots with two study tables beside each of them and two cupboards adjacent to the study tables. The toilet seat, the bath tub, the buckets, the taps, they were all gone! Actually her whole bathroom was replaced by a room that looked more like a hostel room set up for students. A bed was neatly made while the other looked like recently used with sheet left out in folds and wrinkles. There were books stacked at the far end of the table to her right while the one on the left had a couple of books scattered and a table lamp that seemed just too familiar. She couldn’t believe her eyes and was literally taken aback. She leaned against the door that closed all of a sudden with a thud.

 

 She looked behind her. Nope, this wasn’t even close to what her bathroom door looked from behind. It was wooden, painted white in oil paint. It freaked her out and she resisted the urge to go near the door to open it and find out what lay behind it or where she was. She wore a loose peach colored top and black short that were comfortable to get into for a good sleep during the warm May days but suddenly she felt cold and her thighs got covered under a layer of goose bumps. She was drawn to the green table lamp and slowly walked towards the table. Surprise turned into shock when she saw her name written on it, and she came to realize that it was the same lamp she had given him when he was leaving the town thinking it might help him during his late night study schedules. The reality fell upon her like a bucket full of cold water. 

She was at his place! 700 Kilometers away from her home, in his city, in his college, in his own room! Telepathy?, She asked herself wide-eyed in disbelief. Did any angels or fairies hear her making a wish? Willow wisps? Cinderella story? Time travel? She just went through any possible way that made it look sensible in the least bit. Is it even real or May I am just in my sleep and I am dreaming because you dream about the last thing you thought before sleeping. That’s how they say. She tried coming up with a satisfactory explanation. So I will wake up, it is just a dream, just a matter of time, I will wake up now. She closed her eyes and tried recalling the moment, the minute before she fell into sleep. Her pink bed sheet, the corner of the bed, her soft pillow and she tried getting her mind back, tried drifting into sleep if it was one or waking up if doing that seemed sensible. She focused not to concentrate on reality, on the window from where the morning light came in and that gave a lush view of the outside flora, instead of the blurred glass window of her bathroom. She almost thought she is losing her mind to nothing when she heard a voice from outside the door. She heard him. It sounded real, it sounded louder as he approached with only the wooden door separating him and her now. Was this really happening? Is this too a part of the dream? What will happen next? She couldn’t digest the sudden change that was unexpected and unexplained.

 

She fixed her eyes at the door without blinking and pinched herself to wake her up before the madness of her mind took over her very self. This can’t be real, I can’t be here, this doesn’t make sense.  The sound of the steps got closer. The voice grew louder and so did the thump of her heart out of both excitement and fear. Before she could think of what to do or say the door knob turned round with a click.

 

 

 

                                                                                                         To be continued . . .

 

 

 

Monday, January 19, 2015

Lucky Omen


                                                                     
                                         

Ever found luck, showering bliss unceasingly upon you? Ever feared the too good that is making your life next to perfect? Ever felt that nothing could be more satisfying and scaring at the same time as this?

Whilst the glee occurs and makes you more than happy, a fear lures in the shallow corners of the mind.

A friend of mine said the other day,” If I laugh for 10 long minutes, I will be heartily happy for the next 9 minutes but the last one minute I think, what wrong is going to happen next?” . I wondered if she read my thoughts out.

Insecurity dissolves in the amalgam of too much happiness, as if saying

                                                   ‘Too much of something is not good.’

For how long is this laughter going to stay as there needs to be balance so how much ever you laugh you need to cry proportionally

Thus keeping the warning words of the mind in mind, some fail to conceive the happiness wholeheartedly. What if this good is the harbinger of the bad! Beautiful yet ominous.

Look I know it is wrong to assume and good things do happen but the fear of something worse diminishes the vigor of the latter. The multiple feels and phases conquer the mind like swirls of winds, swooping off the cherry on the cake. No matter how hard tried, I still have to pinch myself sometimes thinking it can’t be reality.
               
                                         So far that good?!  Uh-uh!

I deny the reality and hinge around the beliefs of my mind but when even those beliefs break off, I blink twice and then thrice, in apprehension.
                
                                      This can’t be man! I can’t be so lucky! Life can’t be so good!

Then from somewhere there is a blow of reality again. I muster up myself to see another figment of luck, goodness, laughter and all the things that make me glad.




         I swallow hard and watch the moment in disbelief still not able to digest.