The purpose of idle thinking

I sit here, gaze
long lazy leisurely hours
are spent in a wasted haze.
My eyes
scanning everything but nothing.
A wholesome void,
my mind,
engulfed in thoughts
thinking everything but nothing.
A chain reaction is set afire.
One thought leading into other,
other into another,
another into nowhere.
Difficult as often perceived
but easy work it would be,
to do when you know
what,
how,
and why should you do it.
to be at when you know
where,
when,
and why should you be.
Idlism is no work as easy.

Being to nowhere is
not an ignorant bliss.
Traversing and processing
my memory lane,
from infinity negative to infinity plus
in a multi-directional plane;
to find the absolute value -
the purpose of idle thinking

The Alchemy of Love

Hunger is insatiable
touching, breathing in smell
is not enough,
neither is complete surrender.
I want to feel something more
more than the skin heating,
more than the hearts beating,
more than the souls meeting.
Wanting more is but nothing
more than the alchemy of desire.
A force; magical, mystical and mythical
turning,
absence into bitter presence
and presence into realism.
But isn't love surreal?
a thought illusioned by desire?

Desire could be
sleeping in nature's lap,
or indulging in worldly wraps
different to different body and mind
but could love be
different to different hearts it binds?
If it was
only respect,
they wouldn't fight like cats and dogs
only sharing,
they would fear the inevitable loss
only trust,
forgiveness wouldn't be required
only happiness,
sacrifice would be a waste
only sacrifice,
gratification of expectations wouldn't be so chaste.

All the geniuses ever born
Shakespeare, Eliot or Whitman
Mozart or Rehman
Da Vinci, Picasso or Vaughn
Buddha, Jesus or Ram
stroked down the sum and substance
of universe, nature, life and human
in golden
words, music, art or their Karma.

If alchemy of love was to be,
respect, sharing, trust, happiness or sacrifice

in perfect ratios combined,
All the creations of geniuses
and the genesis of al the creations to come
would be more than enough
to have it perfectly described.

And yet it is not so!

For could be there
a deal more unfair
than to barter being in love
with just its perfect alchemy?

A question I want to pose
to the geniuses and all those
who found it easier
to unravel the mysteries of universe and nature
than to uncover
the alchemy of love.

Or is it like they say,
human is oblivious to the most obvious of all?

"I'm happy" says it all

I’ve always believed that every feeling has layers to it except one. In all my writings, I’ve tried to explore these vivid shades of sadness, levels of motivation, depth of inspiration but never quite do so for happiness. I could fathom from being gloomy to heart-wrenching melancholy to slow aching agony to long settled hopelessness. Like the shades of blue that changes when you go deeper in the ocean depths.
 But never happiness. I have always felt that happy is such an absolute emotion. How can anyone be less or more happy? Doesn’t being less happy means you are sad about something, some unfulfilling feelings perhaps? I wonder which is worse, “I’m happy but…” or “I’m sad but…” I find a world of difference in them.
 I’ve recently withdrawn from writing; writing blog or poems or stories or even that matter my diary as well. I can’t seem to find enough words or rather suitable words to describe my level of happiness. One could argue how about down-in-the-gut-happy or floating-on-the-cloud 9-happy or deeply-contented-happy or just-day-to-day-happy? I don’t know one hell of a difference in any of them.
 I’ve often heard people saying, “I’m on cloud 9, I got my dream job” “I’m in bliss he proposed me for marriage” And then I wonder, how do they feel when they are doing their dream job everyday? Less than being on cloud 9? Less than bliss after being married?
 I don’t think I can ever have ifs and buts or more than and less than in my world of happiness. I think, “I’m happy” says it all for me!