The free spirited liberiterian

The free spirited libertarian

Are we in the midst of a great upheaval and awaiting the intervention of Janus (The Roman God of beginnings and transitions)?
No wonder January is dedicated to Him.
We all have that similar clairvoyant streak of "Janus", one looking into the past and the other at the future.

We are living in a society which is in a constant turmoil of being in a virtual sudoku pertaining to us engulfed in multiple bonds.
Even the late psychoanalyst, Carl Gustav, would have been tempted to reinvent and rediscover many more complexes other than the "Electra complex" that he certified, had he been present today.
Why do we somtimes feel his (Carl Gustav's) omnipresence?
Is it because we give birth to virgin complexes every minute?
The endless rhetorics playing in our over active mind.

Every soul is born libertarian.
Not aware of any complexes.
We all love to glory in our own free self.
We all want to be self governing, representative, liberal, progressive and radical.
But can we really be?
Do we really maintain the doctrine of free will?

The great Sigmund Freud used to analyse dreams.
Would he be able to analyse our current nightmares?
Are we deconstructing his fundamentals of instincts, reality and morality?

Are our heart and mind in constant conflict to win over our soul quite akin to the "Cain complex"?
Does our soul play hide and seek with our heart and mind?
Are we double walkers with a Doppleganger syndrome?
How do we manage to slide facades with so much elan?

Why don't we collectively take a pragmatic pause and await the intervention of "Alchemy"?
Are we not the only unique us that has ever walked on this planet?

Is "Libertarianism" effectively converting our psychological complexes?
Or
Are we camoflauging our complexes in the guise of "Libertarianism"

Purvi k.

Life of binary

Life of binary

The cacophony of the battery operated alarm clock wakes us up as against the soothing song of a cuckoo.
The boisterousness of a radio jockey barking in our ear drums while we sprint on a treadmill as against peaceful auricular chants of om making us experience serenity while we go through the stretches of yoga.
We are governed by the choices we make.
Refrigerated enzymns are for our oral consumption.
Hey, we actually check time 29 times in a day!!!!!
Even gestation period is threathened by our obsession of schedules.
Waking up with meticulous time planning in mind, do we heave a sigh at all?
Are we compromising on our versatility by attaining colourlessness and continuance to our mundane, monotonous life?
Are we being assertive articulately in our avocation?
We seldom are calm in the process.
We end up yammering yakkety yak.
Do we believe in guilty indulgences as a form of bargain for our time and call it appropriate parenting?
Do we wind up and return back to the virtual world of technology?
Obnoxiously following lives of doctors of "grey's anatomy".
Getting baffled at the power of heavy weight politicos of "scandal".
Or do we actually start to believe that our adjoining neighbours are rachael/ross and gang?

Are we addicted to technology or are we emotionally challenged?

Welcome to the life of binary............

Purvi K

The scarred scarlet

The scarred scarlet

Images of our scars slides before our vision.
The unfair world of gender bias.
Finding our way to avoid the eventual destination of anonymity.
The conscious effort to protect our different demeanour.
The tough battle to ace the pace in the journey to the top.
Logical mind feeling trapped trying to carve a niche in a creative field.
The debate of the linear thought against an abstract view.
Being invigorated isnt optional, need of the hour is to strenghten.
Trying to fathom and grapple with betrayal.
Tug of war between love and lust.
There we go, slipping in to oblivion.........
The slip turns out to be quick sand.

The fractured soul needs spiritual crutches.
Looking for a ladder leading to sanity.
Who do we forgive?
What do we forget?
The transcluscent life needs to be cleansed.
The urge to clear our journey which is intertwined with emotional investments in seemingly eternal and loyal bonds.
Pushing behind feelings of rejection and dissapointment.
Amidst we being served with life's multiple course meals, we are gallivanting in the roller coaster ride of parenting and time pressing demands of our profession.
Somewhere between mothering our child and expecting tender love, ageing happens at a lightening speed.

Phew! Quite a path!!!!!

Time to pause and breathe.
Awaiting the much needed dawn.
Lets peel off our fake layers.
Let the scars be naked and raw.
Let our excrescence get the beautiful embellishment.
Let the pock marks be adorned.
Let our being be in trance.
Let us be hypnotised by extreme happiness and be totally uninhibited.

Let the scarred scarlet in us dance in the much delayed and eagerly awaited entrante, "Our very own renaissance"

By Purvi K

The distorted ergonomy

The distorted ergonomy

As "Jean Jacques Rousseau says- we are born free but are always in chains.
The anomalous us are in constant conflict with our comfort zone.
Quite contradictory to normalcy, we often find melancholy heartening.
Maybe because dismal thoughts have rented a place in our mind for far too long.
In our aggressive and obvious attempt to be peerless, we reject functional comfort.
The rebellious streak overpowers all discipline and norms.
And we somehow get attracted to tangible stuff we are supposed to deprive ourselves of.
We unknowingly expropriate the blessings bestowed too.
For some obscure reason, we alter our former self and denude ourselves of our very own distinguishing characteristics.
We indulge in self deception by rationalizing our conduct, disguising our real self.

The circus of these thoughts start to plague us.
And we start stretching our bonds beyond expiry date.
Our relationships after a point start to resemble an empty can of a shampoo bottle which can only function after adding few droplets of water.
But alas! It has lost it's sheen.
We are afraid to discard coherence even after they start to resemble our old pair of comfortable but worn out jeans.

How about heeding the advice of philosopher, Zeno of Citium, who says that, "we are emotionally weak if we allow ourselves to be".
Let us embrace the theory of epicureanism which says, "avoid depression at any cost".
Let us be the unmoved mover.
As preached by, Rene Descautes, let dualism exist wherein mind has power over body.

Before life leaves us with life altering symptoms,
Let's redefine the distorted/deformed rules of ergonomy.

By Purvi K

Poetic justice

Poetic justice

Just like the philosopher "D J Kyos", I too want to camoflauge my real self with tint so that when people look at me, they see their reflection.
Why should we approve vibes of condenscension towards our life choices?
As such there is retribution for our actions.
Our virtues are rewarded.
Our vices are punished.
Does our life resemble the fiendish level of sudoku?
Scary.
Intimidating.
Cruel.
Cant we ever escape the prying eyes of someone above?
Why does karma become the game changer in our life?
We join the tribe of non judgemental people only when we cant look into our own eyes.
Which deeds are sinful?
Coming from one's heart cant be evil.
Does the binding of norms decide the categorization of our acts?
Guilty or not guilty?

How about playing the game of chess solitarily in our life?
Between heart and mind.
Let them plant moves against each other but in our own selves.
Let our soul watch ths tiff between the two from afar.
Wherein the winning depends on the well crafted solutions of the one who has antipicated problems prior.

Let the non judgemental, unprejudiced, indulgent, tolerant, lenient and liberal soul checkmate the manipulative moves of the mind.

Let poetic justice prevail.

By Purvi K

The disproportionate ombre

The disproportionate ombre

Do we always need to correspond to the mulishness of nature?
Does the gradiation of our vigorous action from dawn to dusk determine the eternal outcome of our life?
Is blending of colour from light to dark in a singular day equivalent to the process of our whole life?
Does the day start to achromatize like our life?
The hustle bustle, the commotion, the flurry, the whirl!
We pack quite a punch in one day.
Does the early bird get to literally lick the cream in the twilight.
Dawn is akin to infancy.
Day cognates to youth.
The contented evening.
The tiresome night.
Why do we need to adhere to the draconian sequence in the castigation of nature?
Why are we expected to be disciplined in the ascending order of our life?
Why cant roles of each zone of our life be inter changed?
Why do we tend to loose our innocence in our hay days?
Why cant we wake up to a lazy day and gather momentum in the evening?

Lets demolish this astringent way of colouring our life.
Lets glory in our personal condonation of irregular shades.
Lets relieve the innocence of our infant dawn at the caliginous time of our life.
Lets throw our austerity and indulge in a peppy, youthful salsa in our tenebrous era.
Lets for once be infidel to our mundane routine.
Lets nap it out intermittently.
Lets dance in the twilight rain.
Lets fight out the eternal laws of nature.
Lets not pay a heavy price for our "disproportionate ombre".

Purvi k