An Introspection

-AAKRITI THATAL. Floors of white, Cold stone. Colder than this heart I own. Breeze hitting me, from a direction unknown Beat me and my life, forlorn. Melancholia, like the pale yellow stain on my white shoe, Never ceasing, as the ticking digits on my wrist, grow. Panes of wood, dipped in green, Shades of cool, blue, serene. The images of the green, scarce woods between the green panes, Reflects the state of me, pale and mislaid. The walls of white look empty somehow Reasons unfounded, like your scattered brow. A dark figure, appearing as a spot on that plain wall, Reminding me of your distinct black mole. The white walls, empty and bare. Where are You? Are You here? Is this a deterring and a tough test? Where are you? Are You here, yet?

Dear Reader, I have nowhere-close-to-an-idea as to what I am going to fill you with, but I will fill you.  My Emotions are not planned and are not always under my control. In fact, I belong to a kind where a lot of my feelings are spontaneous and unaccounted too, at times. I feel pangs of hunger and of sadness, I feel vexed because of certain beings and happenstance. I feel love for others and I feel loved in turn. However, none of it seems to be under my influence. There is a string of events and elements in my mind, even now, as I type what I (hopefully) intend to.  Let me throw in or introduce a little something called THE UNIVERSE, to our conversation. What is the universe to you? What is its power and influence? How is it? Answer and keep it to yourself. Now, what are You? In this world. In the entirety of the entire existing sphere and the system of spheres. What are you to yourself?  Answer. Keep.  I like to believe that I was born with the power of the Universe. I

-AAKRITI THATAL __________________ Grey marks in vision, No favouritism, Fingernails archaic, Screeching out masochism. Green teeth and tongue, Protuberant illness. Falling hair, Motion to stillness. Bones, brittle. Sensitive skin. Heart, feeble. Soul, to where it sinks? A conjurer of masterpieces A connoisseur, liking sculptures Dreaded below the layers of the noxious, Seeking for redress from the notorious. Stormy seas. Oceans beating. Deteriorated periphery. I, deprived of the Eye. ___________________ Chimera, blue and grey. My Eye in the Storm. Pertinent. Sentient.  Succinct. Masterful. You:  A Nominal Chimera. 

An ode to a day in the past, when a sudden, soft wind slapped my bored and beaten-tired face. Also, pardon my irregular habit of using asterisks in between the stanzas. It is only additions to the mood. About naked sunsets- It is a metaphor I use for describing a careless mind which fails to function well on its deeds of THINKING, and thinking well. Now that the word 'naked' has come up in relation to sunsets, a simple explanation needs to be present. A sunset is never naked, just  like a mind is never empty. Sunsets are, in fact, (one of) the most vibrantly hued scenes an eye can possibly view and capture. Anyway, the point is, there are times when a person's mind seems like its functioning capacity has taken a pause. This was one of those times and yes, it was not true. The Thoughts were only directionless and baffled. With the nature giving me and my little mind some hit, the baffled mind took turns and directions that fit perfect to the visiting mood. The Wind.

-AAKRITI THATAL. I can see. I can see the different colours and also monotone. I can see through the crowd and I can even peek through a hole. I can see the birds fly and I can see the humans. I can see objects and also motives. I can hear. I can hear the television loud, I can hear the traffic, static. I can hear your words and I can hear Nature. I can hear through your actions. I can smell. Smell the sweet scent of incense sticks which I, by the way, can burn and light. I can smell the tempting aroma of Maa's cooking and I smell the reek of the rotten vegetables. I can smell as my olfactory senses are stable and sound. I can taste, the delicious and the tasteless; the bitter and the sweet. I can taste the feeling of defeat and also victory. I can taste Art and I can taste Music. I can taste and I believe in my tastes. I can touch. I can touch beings, both living and dead, moving and stationary. I can touch people's hearts and that makes for another, I can convince

A little while back, I was attempting to compose a poem on, well, many things. However, a multitude of thoughts circled in and around my little brain and there were not many words to define and describe the thought processes. Just then, with the very inability to produce something out of the chaos, I came up with the following poem. A THOUGHT ABOUT A THOUGHT. _______________________________ -AAKRITI THATAL I beheld that ingenuous sheet forth my eyes, Aspiring to split it in Art. However, ideas ceased to strike, As though, caught in some labyrinth in my mind. Like a chimera, I tried to capture the chain of images threaded in my mind. The desire of flaunting notions and ideas overpowered my core. But then, felicity seemed to remain faithful to the sheet's frank simplicity. I had a Thought about a Thought. An innate reality- harmless and latent. Hitting my from all the ten directions, It resides in every corner of my brain. However, the hands seem to be obliviou