With a song or a story
I sense a moment of
catharsis, all my worries
are either shelved or they
commingle with the notes;
I imagine my hands playing,
my feet dancing, my eyes
reading, relishing the words;
as though they are my own
experiences living, traveling
in the trajectory of themes.
The world of words has a
magical spell, it can combine
seen, unseen worlds with a
miraculous ease. The story
in the stories, in the songs,
tells the tales of my failures
and successes, my pitfalls
and glories; it breaks all
barriers, resistances,
inhibitions, in minutes.
We are perpetually in
love with the music in the
texts we watch, listen
or read; it's more real than
the world in flesh and blood.
Stories are never enough.
They are here to play their part
on the stage. We are but stories,
moving on and on. Carefully
crafted words, written or sung
on the pages at times reflect
the ghosts, the skeletons we felt,
yet, never left; at other times,
they mobilize our own dreams.
Getting tired of stories is
like getting tired of our
own breaths, our sad and
sweet songs. So, times!
'If music be the food of love,
play on' and let us live.
