Conversation of two dead Romantics

Enter the Illusionist...

Exit the infamous Mortician!

Mortician: Heh ! blasphemy !

Illusionist: lol...dont worry

Mortician: but, am not worried baby

Illusionist: When the Illusionist dies it would have to take the favor of the mortician

Mortician : Duh! how can she even dare to do that! She shall be cursed and thrown out of her business in no time !

Illusionist: Well, that was our first deal!

Mortician :(laughs) Told ya even then, you can't afford me. Glad you remember at least one among the thousands of worthless DEALS

Illusionist: Hmm.. (sigh)

Mortician: ...pretty much dead air in between, let the silence speak 'cuz it speaks a million words unlike people like you and me.

Illusionist: True (smiles)

Mortician: turned a mortician into a worthless poet! tsk tsk ... Look what you have done to me now :|

Illusionist: aschorjo toh ! (strange) If a corpse can be a magician, then why cant a mortician be a poet?

Mortician: Correction love, its NOT a corpse anymore, its a dazzling Illusionist !! The one and ONLY one ... am just a mere mortician ...who chops the dead bodies and smell these dirty rotten flesh !!

Life oh life!

When does life really begin? Is it when the first fluttering beats of the primitive heart of a fetus start, or when the child is pushed from the womb into the world? Does it all actually start at the moment of conception when the egg and sperm meet and mix their genetic code together to create a new being? No one knows because no one is sure of when life truly begins.

There are many out there who say an unborn child isn't really a person, or even alive because it can not sustain its own life. If this were true, then no one is a real person until they are living on their own away from their parents. When you stop and really think about this, without listening to the arguments about when life starts or if something is considered alive until a certain time, you would be surprised at what you may find.

When the primitive heart of a tiny fetus starts to beat for the first time, it is then that it starts to actually survive on its own, apart from its mother. It’s that life growing inside them that started those mothering instincts. It’s those instincts that protect it from harm until it is able to survive outside the womb and until it can live apart from its mother later in life.

I'm not a scientist, a theologist, or even a doctor. I am just an average woman who can bear a child of her own. So, when does life really begin? I don't know, but when ever it does, its all well worth keeping it going, for the rewards are more than what anyone truly deserves. Love gives meaning to our lives – as do friendship, or art or faith in God. These are factors of true happiness, of inner peace, of feelings of harmony, allowing meaning to our existence.

But there is the other side. There is the cruelty of life, the pain, the evil, not to talk of death. They are the hidden tigers, ambushed and ready to attack the imprudent, to use an image present in the Buddhist Scriptures. Is between these pendulums - the positive, the one that gives happiness and meaning, and the negative - that our lives are lived. And when we meditate about all that, we arrive at a diverse and disagreeing set of thoughts about the meaning and purpose of life. As they say:

Nature separates beings, after having surrounded them by love. It divides them, and demands that they still love each other.

Because life is a SONATA

Do you dare..? to live on high?

Do you have the courage to walk straight, when the arrows on the road of time, cross often and point you to distraction? Do you have the strength to keep the pure choice? Do you know how to make boundaries even though you may... lose, be alone, have empty pockets and gain nothing that the world can see? Living life on a note is not for the small soul, or the faint of heart.

To choose your own path, you need to initiate, you will have to make all your own rules, tell your family to be quiet, give some friend the boot, and cry alone. You will have to exit many rooms, travel in pain and hear words that call you crazy.

Choices make you - the king and queen of your world. Choices of self-love make you stand strong in the breeze, alone in the sand, with your heart pink with unconditional love, and the world. In the choice of strength of spirit, it is enough to have your own feet. Your elevator has one direction, no stop signs, and no decisions about buttons to push. It is enough that you know that you move beyond the third dimension – with Einstein, and Gandhi and the Beatles… On the high yellow brick road, you may meet the scarecrow, the tin man and the lion, and the witch and the wizard, but you own your own shoes. You will never take them off for people, for money, for fame. The dark forest you will pass and the poison is the fake garden, and the empty rooms behind the doors. But, you will have committed to living somewhere over the rainbow, where dreams are born. And in our world, in our times, we need the compass that will seek the peaks. Commit, choose, stay and walk on the high road with the sinfonia. Keep solid and straight, because happiness is not a crooked tune.

A Story

Ever feel like nothing could go right for you and that you are never going to get out of a slump? The need for companionship is strong enough to overrule any other emotion or any thought. Life seems much blacker without someone to share it with. Life continues regardless, and I abide...

The Story

Countless faces all around, whispering while listening to the music. Happy hours of the city has just started. There she is, locked up within her solitude, begging for mercy for a crime that she never committed. Love came to her once, like a dark silhouette. She believed in Fairy Tales after all! The flash of thunder, a few hiccups and a lonely street.

Another cigarette, a little sip of rum - this is her last day to prove that she wasn't wrong. The society, caste her out, like a leper. She fought gallantly for her innocence and now the exhaustion made her numb. Her blank eyes, witnessing how these social moths are feasting on her soul euphorically. She met justice on that winding road, smiling like the rest, promising what her lover once assured, “I’ll never leave your side." But not every fairy tale ends with a 'happily ever after'.

Next day, a court full of audience. Judgment ready, her heart panting. The last show. She was standing there, with quiet eyes and silent tears. Listening to the 'story' of what each has to say. Once her well wishers, these people ridiculed, battered her emotions, wasted on that phantom. They are the witness of the murder that never took place.

Only once she screamed, her eyes looking for help, " I don't know, please believe me, I can't kill him, as he never existed! I'm innocent and slowly she whispered, I loved him." Nobody heard her plea, they all were busy, mocking at her, laughing. "She is so stupid..." they said.

Justice never came to her, neither came the knight. The judge with baritone voice announced, "To be hanged till death." She paused and smiled.

Case closed. Justice pending. Death awaited.

A Mindful of Lies

LIFE... is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctoral gift that no one ever asks for. Unreturnable because all you get back is another box of chocolates. So, you're stuck with mostly undefinable whipped mint crap, mindlessly wolfed down when there's nothing else to eat while you're watching the game. Sure, once is a while you get a peanut butter cup or an English toffee but it's gone too fast and the taste is fleeting. In the end, you are left with nothing but broken bits filled with hardened jelly and teeth-shattering nuts, which, if you are desperate enough to eat, leaves nothing but an empty box of useless brown paper.

Now, as you have already relished the concept of a box full of chocolates here comes another potion...LOVE !!

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up these defenses, you build this whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They do something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own any more. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. not just in the mind. It's a soul hurt, a body hurt, a real gets inside you and rips you apart pain. I hate love.

And Now, hence most of you have been affected someway or the other by this deadly poison...I wish you a speedy recovery :)