Thursday 14 March 2013

Books..Books.. Books.. BFFs!



Words are such a beautifully dangerous thing... i love reading..and i also try to pen down my thots in notes or poetry whenever i feel like...i strongly believe that my books choose me... whn i am really seeking answers to my lost thoughts, a book would just come to me..in the form of a gift, or an impulsive buy, or from a long lost treasure chest, a friend, at the right time.. there are times whn i'd pick up a book just because someone recommended it and never read it or read it after months, just whn i needed wat it has to offer..and there are times whn i c a book which i've never heard abt or is tooo expensive bt i'd still buy it impulsively because i am so drawn  to it that i must read it then and there...They are my best friends..my books.. they never give up on me..

R u out There?!

It doesnt interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesnt interest me how old u are. I want to know if you would risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesnt interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or yours, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance iwht wildness, and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesnt interest me if the story u r telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint other to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it is not pretty, everyday, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "YES!"
It doesnt interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesnt interest me to know who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesnt interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
Most importantly.. I want to know if you can be ALONE WITH YOURSELF AND IF YOU TRULY LIKE THE COMPANY YOU KEEP IN EMPTY MOMENTS......

Love .. & Love Stories !

Many Love stories begin in an ordinay way and end with a surprise. So surprising in fact that you may find yourself wondering if these stories really are true. I believe them..(atleast that's what i think). Everything anybody has ever said about love is true, just not all at once for all of us. Still, it's all true for somebody, somewhere, sometime. Love is the grand prize and the garbage heap. Love is a spiritual root canal and the only thing that makes life worth living. Love is a little taste of always and a big taste of nothing. And love is everything in between these extremes. It may be why there's that part in the wedding vows about, "for better or for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health;". It's the language of realistic warranty for love.

"The love we really live is all the love we really have...and the love we really have, is the love that's true..." ...Robert Fulghum..