It’s not everyday that one gets asked to be a guest author by somebody as awesome as Rohini Singh. So today when she did ask me, I said I’d be glad and I went to bed.
It’s 3:32 AM and I can’t sleep. I can’t wait. I have to write. J
I have this thing for words starting with “S”. Solitude Sublime are such beautiful two words. They amaze me. On the brutal journey of what to write and the herculean task of converting coucntless thoughts into words, I come upon one of the favourite words of mine, this one starting with “S” yet again. It’s not solitude, It’s not sublime.
And now that one dares to scribble in this epic
How about scribbling a little about something awesome on solitude sublime
The word is “Space” ,about which I’ve written Before
But isn’t it never enough to write on something so divine?
Verses form the DNA of this blog,
And thus the prose shall give in to verse’s fight
Today’s author, ladies and gentlemen
Is the quixotic knight
The existence of this concept space around us,
It’s dichotomy with object is mystical.
What you perceive as space can be a collection of a million objects
This verse is already so whimsical
What you perceive as empty space,
Is a crowd of molecules and atoms packing up leaving no space
What you perceive as a solid object
Can be an empty space for trillions of objects within
Gets hard to explain the concept,
So consider the room where you sit,
It’s a solid object for a person standing outside
Yet for you a space where you fit.
Life is nothing but but an empty space,
It’s all empty space, you and I.
Starts with an empty space in the womb,
Space remains when you die.
It’s surprising why its not yet a religion,
Space’s existence remains without a doubt!
There are so many questions about existence of God
Where’s he? I hear, So many broken soul’s shout.
Take away everything,
destroy all that exists,
Do the dance of Shiva,
And yet an empty pure space persists.
One which can cannot be created
One which cannot be destroyed.
Gods can fall , sedated
Space stands, like a numb soldier deployed.
We exist not in time, We exist not in this world.
In space, exists everything. Everything which ever was.
It can be an object, or maybe even a thought,
Nothing escapes the mighty space’s claws
There is physical space,
and then there’s the mental domain.
One might disappear from physical world
But in mental space they always remain.
You’re born , you live, you love.
You laugh you play and you die in your tomb.
Even though physically you’re now an empty space
Like your origin, the empty womb.
So while the physical space is constant
And creation leads always to destruction here.
Is there no boundary
To the mental space’s sphere?
An objects needs space to exist
Space exists if there is an object.
What was present when there was absolute purity of space?
Finding this answer, is the prophet’s project.
Space is deeper in solitude,
And in solitude its more sublime.
It’s best to perhaps hide space’s mystery
And in ignorance grace its shine!