"Jahan na pahunche Ravi, Wahan Pahunche Kavi"
The Poet reaches where the sun does not, said a Hindi Poet
Yet, when the land of relationships is barren, old burnt, existing stale, and incapable of new, the Poet gets Stuck. In a black-hole. In gravity.
How we wish there were a God, an Angel, who would dispel the darkness, with the swish of a wand.
Alas, they are only a necessary fantasy.
But then, even a Black-hole doesn't last forever. So there's Hope, that light will emerge from the Black-hole
Until then we let the Poet lie fallow.
2 comments:
Irony of ironies, the best works of art, poetry, literature, music, anything and everything creative were composed in the saddest moments of the artist/author's life. I think sorrow has the ability to fill the glass in a beautiful way that happiness can never. When happy, one gets so lost revelling in it that words and thoughts all escape, one is floating above, that emotional plane is so different.In some sense, expression finds its way in the person, joys in the heart, peace in the mind and the void gets filled and one is soaring high up in the sky.
But all I say above is from my observation and experience and need not be true for everyone. Pain has its own beauty, it crushes one from within in such a way that one has to resort to without to find solace, that is through creative expression.
And then the cycle starts all over
again. :)
This post was for a dear friend who writes good, but has lost
interest.
Post a Comment