nothingness

Posted on | December 8, 2009 | No Comments

Unspoken words we scatter on the wind become poetry.

Every poet wants to be heard. Most want to be heard by an audience of one. When they fail, they publish and get an

audience of many.

The objective of reading a book is not to finish it. Then it becomes a chore.

A book is a journey more important than the destination itself. Into the writer’s mind. And even a book that might

other wise be a waste of a perfectly good tree, also deserves to be read, so long as it is honest.

Writing a book or a poem is much like love. Love is a very vague concept in general. But you cannot get more

specific than “love for her” or “love for him”.

Much like writing a book, honesty is the most fundamental requirement of love is honesty.

Reading is a way of looking into one’s own mind, through glasses of another person. Understanding is when the

vision remains yours.

A man who cannot read or cannot listen has no poetry in him. He cannot love.

Even though we keep arguing that we write for our own consumption, we all want to be read. Even though it is only

by that one person. Sometimes we don’t know who that person is- then we are hoping that someday they will read and

we will know.

It might happen that they might have read and we will never know, that we have passed each other like the white

whispers of a misty ghost which in the morning might just seem to be a dream.

How can we be in two places at once, when we are nowhere at all?

Rings of Smoke