ASIGNATURA

When did the birds ever stop singing? When did the ruins of what we call past ever bury themselves inside time? Its only because we cared less that we did not take note. Its only and always a vague conjecture we follow until we crash. That again gives way to another self-proclaimed conviction and another and another. And each time, we are destined to crash, simply for the reason that there is an end to every illusion. A finger is always pointing the other way. And that is when you stop and ask yourself,"Is this the right direction?" .

Songs are like feelings. They have an end. Good ones are remembered. Bad ones ought to be forgotten. And life in all its magnitude is nothing devoid of feelings. A staunch glare at your own life will reveal its custom kaleidoscope of highs and lows and conscious planar feelings. When a person is aware that he or she is not feeling anything, that is a feeling in itself. This is analogous to the sweetest song of all - silence. And I believe we will keep crashing and resurrecting ourselves till we find our feeling of silence.

That is when we begin taking note of the world beyond our skin and then the world beneath our skin gets clearer for even the blind to see purity.The birds never stopped chirping. The old fan still makes that creaking sound. The world is still spinning west to east. The sun is never late to work. The universe is still busy in its unproven conspiracies. The silence is still worth hearing.

ASIGNATURA