ThoughtsAndEchoes

. Home; what a word! There exist so many perceptions Of the same definition. Home, for some It's a building, a shelter to live. For some, whereas The world beneath their feet. Some say- It's a feeling of warmth A relaxed state. But, for a minority like me,  It is Y our Name.                                              ~Rugvedi Nakti

. Strong on the surface The mud pot may easily break. The clay was exposed to fire to build. It wont feel the warmth- flawed in the make. It may be kept for display, Its attractive, appealing smile. Or it may even be a storage Water, maybe fire, or even brine. It tried to fit in all of it, while showcasing the finest smile. The fire heated up too much The water filled in its pores Harder than ever to let air in, Fuelling fire, while it gets harder to breathe. But the brine caused it to crack open, The water held back by a smile, While it burned and the brine acted slow, The killer left no sign. The cracks grew wider, The brine overflowed, The fire burned, And the water corrode. Is it still the vessel To blame for what it holds Which cracks it open, Or is it the fault of things it doesnt let go?                                                        ...

  It is not just the absence of noise or the presence of absolute tranquillity and serenity in our surroundings. No. Silence is the warmth felt in those moments when we feel a feeling, a moment which does not make itself heard, but felt. Which is felt by all our senses while relaxing our ears. It does not mean that there is no sound heard; It is. But the same sound which, normally, is heard; Silence means feeling that sound through the different perspectives of our different senses; which together formulate our experiences as a human.  Silence is rest of the mind which never sleeps. It is that bare moment when no thoughts come and go, only does breaths. It is that semiternal feeling of mental relaxation when you truly feel your surroundings; you, without solely relying on a particular physical sense                                                   ...

 Past all the sadness  Rivers of melancholy and oceans of loneliness  I'd still find a glimpse of you.  Therefore, it is true to say-  Here on land, Past all the suffering there is  Vastness of love is only found  In the name that hides in my poetry.                                                                     ~ Rugvedi Nakti