Embrace

When a poet turns to face the realisation, that, words are always inadequate in carrying the weight of articulation, there is a surprising feel of both emptiness and liberty in his heart. 

The liberty comes to untie nerves, or to relieve heat off the formats and patterns. The freedom comes to let in everything that we are here for. The content comes of having gone the full circle from finding love in poetry to see it as an art to touch the divine and finally to understand its insignificance. 

The emptiness comes of not knowing the revelation all the way. The emptiness comes of not knowing that nothing was actually articulated in spite having written hundreds of poems. The reader was reading but the yearning his own nerves, aches of his own heart and whispers of his own unsaid. The reader was never reading the poet's poem. 

Writing, composing or the very effort of articulation in any form may be comparable to drinking or any other form of tranquilization, because these articulations ultimately reduce the effect of pain or happiness on our nerves, on our bodies and minds. Therefore, making us less fertile to bear the strength needed to face the coming. Every pain, every happiness and every feeling should neither be drunk off or written about, they should just be in us in order to cook our selves for the coming. We step on the first step of a feeling, get overwhelmed in either happiness or sadness and start tranquilizing our feelings. While we step on forty nine more steps of the same feeling, we skip the training program available for our bodies and minds due to tranquilization. One day, we are suddenly overwhelmed because we are made to step on the fiftieth step, while have learnt nothing. All we remember is the pain we had while on step one, when we gave up to tranquilization instead to training further. That's when we fall crushing down like the card houses.

Ironically, I am writing it down here, now. Absorption of learning takes time. I have been the unread poet all the while. 

It's evident that the strongest people you'll meet in life are neither poets, writers, musicians, body builders, party dwellers or introvert whiskey-graphers. The strongest people we come across are simple people who inspite of equal pain and happiness, do not ever leave their day to day schedules, do not get lost in solo travels, do not borrow pleasure from tranquilization, do not make much sense of arts or do not ever quit. 

Strong people are those who lend true strength in times of despair. They derive strength from being, from letting experiences be, from not fighting tears and from embracing pain. 

Don't fight tears, let them be, they are the sign of your body and mind being cooked to the next level of warfare, preparing the you that is required for the next battle. Don't bunk classes. 

Don't hire disconnected people as short term friends. Let loneliness seep in, let your mind learn it. Your true friends are not lost. They are in their respective journeys, which they must endure. You have friends, just not around for the while. Loneliness has organically come your way to be a new friend, it will give you as much as your best friend had given. Don't fear the start, it will make you so comfortable eventually that you'll learn to choose people sensibly, instead of just letting in anyone and everyone against the fear of loneliness. Don't bunk classes. 

Don't fear telling the truth no matter how hard it is. It is partly your job to tell it, the other part of the onus stays on the listener to accept it. It is not your responsibility to make others embrace the truth. It is your job to stand by it without forging. Once you see how free it feels to be in truth, as a speaker, as a listener and as truth itself, you'll embrace it. You shall see how weak people are in embracing truth, even the ones who appeared to be strong till now. Don't fear truth. Don't bunk classes. 

Be present in whatever life brings to you. It has come your way to build you. Don't be absent. Don't bunk classes. 

The universe provides for emancipation, growth, skilling and finally winning. Don't bunk classes. 

No matter how beautiful the poet appears to be, he is not more beautiful than the 'The Man in The Arena'. The greatest articulation is the future self that has outgrown the present.

Arp