Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Sometimes, we don't have to let things go, but let things be.

 Unknown time, Unknown Place

It was hard to find a moment of peace in a place where I went to be drowned in the noise of pubs, clubs and the sound of evenings waiting for the night life to begin. And those sound of waves were not making things any easier. Bringing back the memories, sometimes I wish I never had. Of a perfect morning of sitting silently on the rocks by the sea side and watching the sun rise from its own past. Watching the water turning gold and the boats riding far into the sea. Now, perhaps reminding me of my own mistakes. May be that is all life is. Where we end up despite all the mistakes we ever did. And True Grit is hoping to get a second chance at redemption. But, also accepting that it may never come. That some of those boats will not come back. 

All the bravest people I have ever known are the ones who lost in love. But, I knew the risk, when I went to that bright unknown. And, when we decide to walk towards the sun, we have no right to complain about the heat. And True Grit is accepting that too. Because, the risk was your pleasure. And her smile was your orgasm.

My friend urged me to talk to the lady sitting beside me. And I did. Perhaps, we both being a little drunk helped. Sometimes, life's greatest wisdom comes from strangers and sometimes most intelligent conversation happens when we are not in control of our senses. We talked all night about all the memories that we will never share. I don't remember what I said. But, life hears everything that we never say. I do remember her words though. 'Remember this. With a woman, especially with her heart, it is a good idea to be very very patient." And I told to myself what I had read somewhere. "Patience is not the ability to wait. But how we behave while waiting".

True Grit is accepting this and knowing that sometimes, you can talk to everyone in the world, but the one person you truly want to. True Grit is also the determination to not let things go, and also understanding that sometimes, you have to let things be and trust the life to sort itself out at its own pace. And True Grit is also knowing when to walk away. And sometimes True Grit is defiance and accepting that answers to all the question is the same. We will not give up today.

Till then, I will hold on to my chaos which is also my calmness. For now, I will bend down and tie my shoe laces and get on the dance floor. And dance we will. Even if the music is silent. Especially if the music is silent. Because the night is still young. And there is so much floor to cover. And we have just started. Because True Grit is trusting the unknown. And accepting that sometimes, our greatest of journeys begin when we have already reached the end of the road.

 - Hausle Buland

Sunday, October 4, 2015

The Things I do When I Think Of You

Sangetsar Lake, Tawang, Arunachal Pradesh

The mystery lies in the blue of the ocean.
The treasures are plenty, but the pleasures are few.
I dive so deep, and become one with my darkness.
And the things I do, when I think of you.

I seek an answer to a question I don't ask.
Something awaits me, said the winds that blew.
On the blades of the wet grass, I make my bed.
And the things I do, when I think of you.

The sky gets dark and the secret it hides.
I die a little, in a room with a view.
But, my fears, and my dreams keep me alive.
And the things I do, when I think of you.

There are so many voices, I hear in my silence.
The time I died, and the life I knew.
There are things I said to the clouds that flew.
And the things I do, when I think of you.

I hide my scars in the glare of the sun.
The wounds are old, but the pain is new.
But everything heals, when touched by morning dew.
And the things I do, when I think of you.

That evening sun and the shadows getting long.
The dreams that we share, memories that grew
You don't say much, and I say I love you too.
And the things I do, when I think of you.

Following a faithful voice, I embrace my struggles.
Living a life full of happiness, and moments of sadness few.
Today, I am a broken bouquet of flawed flowers.
But I am there for you. I will be there for you. 

                                                         - Hausle Buland

Friday, August 14, 2015

It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them

Early Morning,Petaling Jaya, Malaysia

The Dreams I made of Sands,
And I broke them with my hands.

Dreams have been buried and the graves forgotten. Only to be remembered by the wild grasses which accidentally grow upon neglect. Or by the dogs who need a place to pee. Or by the adventurous lovers who take refuge in the silence of the graves in the night and rest under a blanket drinking hot wines and eating each other.

Or by the Stars? Which waited and waited for the dreams to take wings. Does a future that could not happen remember a past that could have been?  There is no one to ask and no one to tell. Because Time has killed everything. That is what it does. We are fools to believe the other way around. We don't have the power to kill Time. We never did. But, the time kills us with our own weapon. By Doing nothing.

Time is shrinking below our feet
I run to you, but we don't meet.

I don't know what shapes my fears are. Or what size?. I guess, my fears, like everything else are limited by my imagination. And probably Life is all about trying to put a name to that fear and spend your whole life either running from it or trying to overcome it. There are only three ways I know. Either live through it. Or love through it. And there is an unnamed middle path which most of us take. I am afraid that that is where I will end up. Living in the bridges in-between. But I won't fight. I will endure. Endurance is a fight in itself.

The wall in which I am caged,
Are wet with the tears of the sky.
The debt of lost moments is as true.
As the light of the moon is a lie.

This state. This time. This moment. We try to freeze it in our words, but the moment moves on. ever so slightly and fleetingly, unperturbed by our idiosyncrasies. Moment doesn't care about us, however much we care about them.

I have spent my time chasing whispers.
The voice within, so faint to hear.
They hide behind the sound of ruffling pages.
Because you are so far, and they are near.

I have been a blind man admiring himself in the mirror. Too busy trying to define things that can not be defined. How do you define a Shadow? A sunset? A rainbow? Whispers of Wind? Tug in Hearts? Truth? Silence between Lovers? 
So dear, I promise not to define you, but to understand you.

The tender tendrils of my tenacious thoughts,
A truth so elusive, A truth I sought.

Truth doesn't run anywhere. But, we part with it. And in the end, we chase it too. 
P.S - Title taken from the Book 'East of Eden' By John Steinbeck
Photo Credit: Me.