Clouds With Emotions

Sometimes I wonder, if clouds are the greatest reservoirs of pure emotion - The face of Mother Nature that we look up at every day, and fail to comprehend. How many times do we look up at the sky and read the emotion on its face instead of simply analyzing the weather? 

Love – When the mystery blue shades of the sky in the evening blush with deep red clouds converging near the horizon; The perfect reminder of your loved one.

Joy – When the fresh white clouds play amongst themselves while they race across the sky under the watchful eyes of the gentle motherly morning sun. It will lift your spirits and give you a reason to smile.

Mystery – When the ash clouds move swiftly across the night sky ferrying witches to distant lands and helping lost souls share their incomplete stories. They will drown you in the deepest abyss of thought and reflection.

Fear – When the deep dark clouds swell up in mutiny, and demonstrate their supreme power with thunderstorms and lightning strikes capable of razing entire cities to dust. Grateful for being under the protection of your house, you’ll pray that that the storms raging outside and inside your soul are driven away as soon as possible.

I’ve dreamt about clouds much longer than I can possibly mention in one post. Just how one cloud is always followed by another in quick succession, so will my dreams.

Do you dream about clouds too?

Image Courtesy: http://www.whatdigitalcamera.com/gallery/files/9/red_clouds_795220.jpg

Normal

No matter how many times

Our paths entwined

Reason could never explain

Memories still crumble

After all that went by

Life was never again normal.

P.S: This was my very first attempt at acrostic poetry. Do tell me where I can improve.
 

Image Link: http://nadiacyrill-footprintsinthesand.blogspot.com/2010/07/footprints-in-sand.html

The Tree

One Chilly winter morning.

An empty coffee mug left alone on the window-sill.

Corner of the room.

The two walls create a corner to discover my crouched self.

An uneasy comfort.

Eyes closed.

I dream.

I’m a really large tree in the centre of a park. I was nothing but a little seed. But the heavens bestowed me with air, water, sunshine, and life. So I grow.

And I spread my branches to accept all the love.

I always looked upwards, towards the vast expanse of the enormous sky, because it never ceased to amaze me. In the summer season, it humbled me with the tremendous power of the sun as it policed the entire earth, while traversing the hemisphere. Now and then, the occasional silver lining makes me wonder if the sky is the greatest art of God. During the rainy season, black clouds merge in unison to shower me with piercing hard drops of rain. The heavens only play peek-a-boo as they hide behind the enormous black clouds, as their radiance makes its presence felt through small punctures in the clouds. In the autumn season, as my leaves begin to wither and die, it tries to lessen the pain by entertaining me with the many stories that the clouds have to tell. Tales of wise old kings, lost princesses and evil dragons keep me enchanted all throughout the day and bring happy dreams after dark. In the deep of savage cold winter nights, soft white flakes of snow suddenly emerge from within the profound black abyss of the sky and adorn our branches. There are very few things that can give you more inner happiness than the smiles of the little children who come out of their warm homes in the morning, and shake our branches to play with the snow accumulated on top of them. In the spring season, the clouds dance with the sun as Nature awakens from its winter sleep in the world below.

And I spread my branches to accept all the love.

Black smoke bellows from the factory chimney nearby. The smoke creates a small black cloud that looms over the factory premises. I ask the winds to blow it towards me. They agree, because they know why. I believe in destiny, and consider it my responsibility to purge the black air of all that is impure. I do the best that I can. But no sooner than I finish, more black clouds grow over the factory. The chimney never ceases to do its job, and neither do I.

And I spread my branches to accept all the love.

Image: http://www.wallpaperfans.com/Treesan-old-tree-in-snow-world-1061.html

Welcome To My Portal Of Dreams

You have now arrived to my portal of dreams. Welcome!

This portal is will take you on a journey through the dark annals of your vivid subconscious mind, as you realize the true beauty and meaning of all that is around us.
This portal will conjoin the the virtual thin line separating reality from dreams.
This portal will create a symphony in which the vibrations of the human mind will merge with that of the universe as your heart dances to the rhythm of life.
This portal will absolve your soul of all feelings of despondency, and loneliness.
This portal will move your inner spirit to thoughts deserving retrospection.
This portal will fill up those empty voids which have remained, forever, like dark empty underground cells without its manacled prisoners.
This portal will strengthen the bonds which are meant to remain forever.
This portal will liberate your senses and imbue your soul with freedom and it's meaning.
This is a portal which will take you to distant galaxies unknown, and lush green meadows hidden in valleys between snow-capped mountain peaks.
The portal will transcend all boundaries of Time, Imagination, and of course, Perception.

Take my hand.
Join me.
Let us fly towards the stars - and keep flying outward - away from this world - away from this galaxy - away from the universe - beyond all possible restraints of the human mind - and release our mortal bodies - as we float between the soft, tangible layers of Emotion and Imagination.
Close your eyes.
And drown in the sea of thoughts where the world is your own to build.

I am The Xeno.
This is The Dreamer In Me.

To The Teacher Who Opened My Eyes

Dear Sir Alapath,

Today, almost four years after the day I had joined your class, I can clearly recall how you had said, “I am not here to teach you English. And if any of you feel that you want to learn English only, then you may walk out of this place, right now! Because I am not going to teach you English. I am going to train you for Life.” We never realized the true importance of those words.

But today, Sir, four years later, it has gradually dawned upon me, that you were right. You have opened my eyes to the real world and to the world beyond that. You have taught me things which no teacher in the entire world could have ever taught me. You have given me a psyche of my own. You taught me to understand and reflect. You taught be to be bold, and face criticism and punishment with dignity. You built many bridges to my world of imagination. You taught me to socialize, and to understand people and their opinions. You have taught me to be the individual that I am – with strong ideals, principals, honor, and discipline. And you have taught me English.

I was only 15. And you were like a wizard – strict, yet magical. I remember that day when you had created in our minds a vivid phantasmagoria of images and showed us the world beyond them. You were a man of great honor and authority. There was an aura of knowledge and power that constantly emanated from your body. At the same time, you were humble enough to ridicule yourself while you shared jokes about your life.

Providence never allowed me to be your disciple for more than a year. On our last day of class, I remember those words of advice that you had given me. They changed my life. Somewhere inside me, I wanted to cry. But on the outside, I did try to replicate that modest smile which you always had on your face.

Sir, today, I am going to start a new blog. The main reason why I am doing this is to learn, and to grow. I want to strengthen my abilities in written English. I want to learn as I write. But Sir, I have a favor to ask. I need you to bless me so that I can write better and better each day. I need you to help me with what I write. I need you to help me grow and become strong, so that I can live up to your dreams – so that I can become the author that I’ve always wanted to be.

Yours truly,

Mohonish Chakraborty.

To,

Sir Anthony Alapath,

In his heavenly abode.