… Suicide is the cruelest creativity of humans, for those who cannot hold themselves anymore to fight against the adverse wind with iron-mind. This weakness calling the death of an artist (and other human beings as well), but it appeared profitable for those who invented the trick but never think to take this bit a moment… Misfortune, Mahi committed suicide before reached the matured state of her life to point out the phrase in her canvas that, —everything in this world is falling down like the imperfect composition of a musician. Anyway, her unfinished artworks might beacon that we’ve lost something precious, have fallen in the inescapable wormhole, tried to escape but abortively falling down in the faulty-cleft to repeat the mistakes over again; and, to deliver the final resonance, —we are caught by the inescapable which we weaved by our own hands… Continue reading Lost in transition ⇒ Kirno Sohochari
… He used to think about himself infancy, a swinger in a cradle, suppose the infants are always swinging in the cradle with spellbound innocence. The man was an infant despite his adulthood, he liked belonged in childhood despite the eventual effect of adulthood. He felt somber to remember the adulthood experience he had, felt ashamed to think about the grief, pain, hatred where his soul is reeling around, which make-bound him to play the encounter role always. It was against the nature of love which he has cravingly quested until his death. He has made him for love, recited love in his song with Utopian illusion… He is no more on this earth but his song has still accompanied us to feel his memorable presence and remembered him with love and respect; and, with all of his animated controversies he had done by caring none… Continue reading Hi Moonwalker, let startin’ somethin’ ⇒ Kirno Sohochari
Yes, I am a silent river, tried to flux without making any troublesome noise, not excited to find the reasoning of everything. I think it is safe. None agitates you; because you are engrossed in silence and fluxing there with no hope or despair. I am happy to feel the state, in where a silent river fluxing unconscious to the life and careless about the festooned meaning and definition of creation…/
It is not an easy task for a man who thinks he has nothing to add or contributes in the world and get reverse to the world. I embrace Emil Cioran to think that, I am not alone in the world for walking along the territory sans any reasoning or significance… Continue reading Insignificant existence and the threshold of despair ⇒ Kirno Sohochari
It has strangers measuring each other.
With cold eyes.
Those eyes have seen eternities.
Decades of fumbling.
Maneuvering futile escapes.
Finding secret doors…. Continue reading There is very little in this room ⇒ Saurabh Rai’s post on “Poets Unlimited”