Stifled and buried voices for decades stirs and haunts the mind, resembling ruins of dilapidated buildings. Souls and bodies resurrecting from time to time. Loud and clamoring shouts in the big cities, anger, and concerns of a parent no more, a friend’s smile or playful words, whispers of an ex-lover, in fragmented pieces form a whole to haunt.
Ghosts are humans. Past voices flowing into intermittent bursts and cacophony of sort, soft lyricism and moaning reappears like the dreams abhorred and longed at the same time. Not nightmarish but perhaps a reminder as the mind trapped as it is in the present, harking back to the past lost and splaying its feathers towards the future. Dreams may not be reality. Myths can be unshattered and untouched by incidents afflicting us, moments when voices were choked or cackled as we strive to make sense between the imaginary, unreal, illusions and truth. Don’t we say truth and untruths are simply the manifestations of a mind forever in turmoil and influx?
Voices are the manifestation of the divine and often unexplored forces, invisible to remind us about the unexplored, extraordinary power we wield and a warrior residing inside us. After all, life or existence is nothing but a forever battle waged against circumstantial foes. Feeling of stoned, high on liquor or making intimate love are pretty much the whispers inside us and the unquenched thirst, drive and fragrance of being here, done that or revisiting places, existence or people encountered for the first time. A sense of Deja Vu!
The stillness percolates through the senses as wade in the rain, enjoying a smoke or drink often goes unexplored, bringing variegated emotions, a smile, joy or tears. Never battle them but drench in its essence and beauty for the various moments make us us. Let the flow and taste every syllable spoken or felt in the mind, traveling through the head, throat and inside our flesh and nerves.
Read Ramya’s post here.