Lady Gaia

An attempt at poetry after years of dry spell

Advertisements

Lady Gaia
In peace, she rests
With a Velveteen cover
Of bright green hues
Dark green lace
Rotund mounds and humps of dew
On a Bed of blue
Pillows of white
Chirping music in the background
Lovely fragrance
Of lush nature
Whiff of tea, lemon grass and pinecones
And whatever wild trees are made of
Light brown veins
Carry her lifelines
Who she let’s live on her
Caring, caressing
Sometimes they tickle
Sometimes they poke
Most of the times they scurry around
Unlike her other multilegged sows
They savour. They support
Her body like she does their life
The two-legged ones, though
Don’t treat her right
But a mother is as a mother does
On she loves
On she leaves
With peace, she let’s them be

Vision

Source: http://cs.brown.edu/courses/csci1430/
Source: http://cs.brown.edu/courses/csci1430/

In the film ‘Matrix’, we were told our idea of reality is skewed; it is just an illusion. In a way, it hit the right chords if we take into account the different perspectives of a human mind. Some of these we brush away as figments of imagination; some we celebrate as creativity; some we meditate upon as the ‘inner-eye’ or ‘subconscious’, and some, we tolerate as reality – something we are part of, but is out of our control.

To those who are aware of these, it will feel like there is a constant buzz in your head. Like a desktop window with multiple operations under process.

In reality, at the click of a button, you push one up; prioritize one—albeit temporarily—over the others.

But, what if we did not have this option? What if the default setting was that all these perspectives were constantly at work in non-hibernation mode?

Imagine a world, where you wade through every moment of life across three-four layers. Imagine if your vision was divided into four sectors (vertical or horizontal as you please) – one, where your imagination unfolds, is portraying night time; the one, which deals with creativity, is a mosaic of bright, interchanging colours; the subconscious or inner-eye, a dull throbbing gold, and the reality reflects the normal landscapes that mark your life – like a local train, your workstation, television, etc.

The idea seems, at once, enthralling and perverse. Enthralling, for who would want to not live not one, but four vibrant lives at one, especially in a state of higher awareness and consciousness? But perverse all the same, because it will make you realise how hopeless and powerless reality is; also because, there will come a time when you would want to switch off, for it would simply feel overwhelming, like your brain is about to burst.

I am sure the creative sort of people would relate to this, those who have powerful urges to step out of reality and capture their imagination and thoughts by penning down (or painting). Those whose brains are bursting with too many thoughts and feelings.

Perhaps, this is what we already do unconsciously, though, on a smaller scale. This is why we box sections of our lives into categories, and make sure they are processed in hibernation mode.

Who knows!

Looking through the rear-view mirror

Hindsight is a bitch. It has convinced me that the present has severe eye-sight issues. Logic helps act as a poor replacement for spectacles. But it rarely gets the timing and mind-speed right.

And that’s why, hindsight!

Imagine if we were to drive with a muddy front glass, and exceptionally clear rear-view mirrors.

I often feel my glass is muddier than average. I call it the anti-climax phenomenon.

My mind is forever in that mode, even during normal conversations. Remember, the dialogue in the movie ‘You’ve got mail’ where the female protagonist complains that she never thinks of appropriate responses at the spur of the moment, but much much later? Yep, that’s me. Except, this happens all the time, and not just when I’m angry.

It’s like my mind goes into mute mode the moment I have company. It doesn’t shut off, but its input process overtakes the output process. Like your mouse and keyboard are working, but you see the reaction of clicking or typing hours later on the screen.

I know it means my mind needs solitude to process thoughts. But, even day-to-day conversations? That’s taking it too far.

As a result, I not only have thoughts in my head during my me-time, but continuous relays of past conversations, their thousand possible responses and the repercussions!

Where’s my pensieve?! (Heck, that spelling looks incorrect. Hmpf!)

And to add to all this, there’s hindsight, churning out smart little observations, pointing out missed opportunities and mistakes.

What’s the point! It’s not that I can go back in time and change things, can I? Yes, I know I’ll learn from it, but how often do we have the exact same situation repeat in life? The next lesson is always different? There’s no point.

It’s like we are simply moving in circles!

P.S.: This post itself is an example of the delays in my mind and the effects of solitude. A lot of thoughts have burst forth in one day. Ergo, three posts! Who knows, maybe I will end up writing another before hitting the bed!