Scribbling:

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“I feel happy, being alone at this moment. It’s a different feeling being alone sometimes, when you are alone and not sad, not missing something, not being asked for or to suit a particular adjective. Like a night when it is alone without moon and stars, left on its own. Night with moon gets weighed down by label of romanticism, and when that moon is missing, people look at the stars, miss the moon and sob all night for their solitude asks too much of them. I like the night when there is no moon, no star but just it, a dark, left-alone, night, naked in itself, just like us, with no rush to choose adjectives to suit the mood to feel better or worse. I feel happy this moment for I do not feel to feel in any particular way, it’s just a feeling of having no feel, ridiculous it sounds, isn’t it? And yet it’s true, it is like when people are high, fallen in alleyways, by riverside, in their rooms, upon their beds, in someone’s arms or left behind like trash, and yet not caring at all, instead stay like that simply for staying in that sense of trance, not thinking of anything, something as if alive but relishing the death in itself, death for what else could carry such tranquil happiness in itself, simply for the sake of it. As if being active we lose a sense of our human mind and body as those philosophers would say in the west, while in the east they would rather call it soul. funny isn’t it? How even that gets tangled up in choice of words, while it could be either of them or none at all, who knows?

I am feeling happy in this moment, I would not mind whether I get to laugh or cry, for it doesn’t matter, I could do both and still feel the same. But I would rather choose to smile right now and keep the tears for later, for tears to me are more intimate, they remind me of nights when I am vulnerable, I find solace in its salty kisses and warm trails upon my cheeks. So long…”

Praveen Parasar, 8/1/2017