As I See It

Month: April, 2014

The dangers of humanistic psychology

As the guilt curls your lips
I look deeper.
I see why
Cause I run back the way you came
I look under every stone,
into every cold eye
in every cottage
all the way.
I see why
Does that absolve you
Or make me an abettor?
I pull you close,
I kiss your eyes
Will you forget the route
And your story?
Or will you let your story
rule the way your lips curl
for always?


You had someone;
You believed you had the world.
At some point, you found yourself past its expiration;
you created self-instilled resilience,
and arose from the wreck.
You saw a world wider than you had imagined,
deeper than you could fathom.
You realized your life had been but a morsel
of an addictive pickle,
in an elaborate meal of unending choices.
You reckoned it had been a merely a detour
from your preordained course.
Infinity began to take a new significance;
freedom kissed you with its minty breath.
You saw a world waiting to take you in,
to add you to its infinity,
to inhale your laughter,
to take you on an expedition
and to show you all its love.
You found someone.
You looked into his eyes;
you saw genuineness, not the green.
You dove in.
In him, you unearthed a deep
deeper than any in the vast limitless expanse around.
You found meaning comparable to none
among the countless perspectives you had stumbled across,
in your travel to exotic towns in search.
Infinity began to take a new significance,
and in a sense you never thought could happen.
You realized the life you had thought was boundless,
had fences you lived within, throughout.
It had been an act, a staged act.
You had lived by the rules,
to please, to be accepted.
You had been looking elsewhere all the time;
All you needed was all the while,
in those green eyes- waiting to show you
a life beyond the ordinary,
magic that doesn't die,
and love that only intensifies.
That’s when the realization dawned on you.
There is no absolute;
Just multiple truths and numerous realities.
Each, containing within itself and beyond,
its own infinitude.
We all have got to find one of these or more;
to love, get lost in and die for;
For it’s this intricacy that justifies all the madness,
and makes this life worth living.

multiple truths

midnight musings

I ‘m not the one to go on an evening promenade along the park. I prefer to sit and stare instead. But now, at a quarter to midnight, I am walking the streets.

I see a glow the moon doesn’t always have. I see a far-reaching three-dimensional halo that pervades the skies and reaches just up till where I stand. She is blushing silver. And she can’t stop. Is it just me that can see it, can you too? Maybe we share a connection, the moon and I. Can she see me and a halo around me that I can’t see?

If I were on the moon, I’d glow silver too; I’d be a fairy – I think. I’d perhaps see the curve of the earth, not just the flat labyrinthine designs that I see from a plane. No curve can be sexier than of the Earth, I think. If I were on the moon, If only.

But I am not. I’m far away. I’m in Hyderabad a geographical expanse fenced out from the surrounding by someone, doing a job created by someone who’s doing a job for someone else, all this to earn brown paper rectangles that every someone I know tells me, are valuable, walking the pathways laid out by someone, but looking up at something that’s a mystery to them all, something’s so oddly real, it’s incredible. I am looking up at the one thing that I see purely as what it is, not what I’ve been told it is. I see the starless sky and a silver orb blushing to me, letting me know I’m as pretty. And it feels so real.

I am just a speck in a faraway sapphire orb or even less. I am a small dot that’s tough to spot on a ball overflowing with them. Are we dots someone’s play toy? Maybe someone outside’s watching me and he cares. Or maybe we’re characters in his board game and we’re being played. I would never know. It makes me want to sing in a whisper, in a hollow voice that’d echo in space

Hello hello hello,

is there anybody in there

Just nod if you can hear me,

Is there anyone home

All my life I’ve sought perspectives. Tonight, I want none. I want to lacerate all man-made perspectives, and that feeling of complacence. I want to devastate the opinionated borders erected and crash past the horizons humanity has created. When I slash it all, what remains but the blackness? Don’t give me your binoculars, don’t point out to a direction. Tonight I want to see the pristine, wherever my eyes can take me. I want to see into the beyond, into the silence, where there’s no bias, where it is infinite. All I want is to feel the infinity and a belongingness to it.

I feel so small, so insignificant. I feel like it’s all perhaps a dream. But it’s a dream that’s perfect despite my insignificance cause it’s not as bad as you think. The moon blushes to me when you are asleep. It’s a silver so divine, one you’d never see.

Source: Google

“Whoever you are, go out into the evening, leaving your room, of which you know every bit; your house is the last before the infinite, whoever you are.”


When you get into a dark room, you can’t see much. Hours later, you can; you begin to get comfortable in the darkness, you find light in there. You forget what there is on the outside and you stay cause you’re alright in there while you fear the beyond. One day light seeps in and you peep out. The light is so powerful, it almost blinds you. You peep out again curiously; you see a world that you had forgotten existed. You see how dark the darkness was and how much light you could have used all along.

The world has numerous such cavities–in the hollow of the trees, in the gloomy evening’s air, in the eyes of the girl you met, inside you in the crevices of your reflections, anywhere you’d never look. Some of these are wide open, gaping at you, wondering if you’d care to notice and some are cleverly placed, complacently waiting for you to fall in.

And you fall.

The most fascinating thing is that you don’t know you have fallen and the most dangerous is when you acclimatize to it all.

You wonder at times if you’re doing okay. You tell yourself you are and you try to believe it for it’s the only way to protect your feelings. You dream your dreams in the corners of your mind, away from the world where people can pry through keyholes and you draw a line of it in the air – a horizontal line way above where you are. You look at yourself and around; you draw a second line below, inclined toward the first. The lines will someday concur and you’ll live your dream. You begin to see your life with tinted eyes – a pleasant peach. You imagine good days, you live on memories and beliefs. You absorb joy that doesn’t exist. You get over the bitter with sugar and icing from your dreams. You believe you’re moving up the incline. You keep living.

All along, you’ve been falling. You are falling more. Unaware.

You begin to notice that the bitter gets more frequent and it gets bitterer with each bite. You notice the sharpness in the ups and downs. The steepness and the plunges hurt your back a little, your soul a little more. The instability gets to you at first, but you begin to see the stability in the instability as the ups and downs happen ceaselessly. You begin to seek solace in the stability (of the maniacal instability). You begin to wonder if there’s a world outside, but you fear leaving your haven. You fear letting go of all you own. You hold on to the pain cause if you let go, there’s nothing left. You dive into the recesses of your mind to live your dreams more frequently. You take vicarious happiness from it. You tint your sight a stronger dose of peach.

Until one day.

One day, the plunge doesn’t end. You can feel your intestines moving up as you fall but you’re helpless. You fall with a thunderous thud that leaves the sound echoing in your head for days. For the first time ever, you feel disillusioned. You realize how deep you’ve fallen. You see that the lines you drew were parallel if not divergent, with no possibility of convergence. You take off the tint and see faded brown and wearing out grey. You realize now that you have been falling longer than you can believe.

You can think of nothing but getting yourself wholly out. You give all you got to gather your mess and pull yourself up. You look up and see those that have always been there, with outstretched arms and warm smiles. You’re overwhelmed. You drown yourself in hugs and tears and right away, you start afresh. You inhale the outside. That’s when you peep back in and realize how deep inside you had fallen.

Life isn’t as short as they paint it to be. It’s never too late to give up and never too late to learn to fly.

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