Scribbling:
Tragedy of Wanderer -
“For most of moments he ended up talking to himself, his own mind and heart, working in tandem, creating images and voices, that probably succeeded in fooling him to believe it to be of someone else, one who appears as a light source at the end of dark tunnel, tunnel that he has kept himself confined for long and even longer will it be for that source of light must fade-out, as soon as he appear to be approaching it close, for it never was there, it can never be, like a mirage in the middle of desert, yet to play with self knowingly is fun (for creation and interpretation of images and voices unknowingly can never be fun), fun that is as sacred for one, as a piece of broken toy for a child, and yet to do it again and again, and finding it’s temptation hard to let go, despite knowing there’s no way out, knowing such ways do not exist at all, or he might end up falling, hurting, overlapping himself. Playing with self, only who knows it.”
~ Praveen Parasar
Tragedy of Wanderer -
“For most of moments he ended up talking to himself, his own mind and heart, working in tandem, creating images and voices, that probably succeeded in fooling him to believe it to be of someone else, one who appears as a light source at the end of dark tunnel, tunnel that he has kept himself confined for long and even longer will it be for that source of light must fade-out, as soon as he appear to be approaching it close, for it never was there, it can never be, like a mirage in the middle of desert, yet to play with self knowingly is fun (for creation and interpretation of images and voices unknowingly can never be fun), fun that is as sacred for one, as a piece of broken toy for a child, and yet to do it again and again, and finding it’s temptation hard to let go, despite knowing there’s no way out, knowing such ways do not exist at all, or he might end up falling, hurting, overlapping himself. Playing with self, only who knows it.”
~ Praveen Parasar
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