Almost close to the din Shelley described in "Mont Blanc" about the River Arve: "A loud, lone sound no other sound can tame." I can't believe it's been so long since I heard his voice that I would not even recognize it now.
From Clinton's "My Life"
That brief sketch is about all I ever really knew about my father. All my life I have been hungry to fill in the blanks, clinging eagerly to every photo or story or scrap of paper that would tell me more of the man who gave me life.
Will J crave equally for shards of R(my Ex) that I have so thoughtfully locked out of her reach. Snuffed out his very existense lest she feel curious and learn only to be so terribly hurt...I can churn thoughts of R in my head until they froth but I would not whisper a word to J
Another perspective (closer home yet far away) from Antara Mali of Bollywood. I could be vindicated thus
As Antara Mali says, One loving person is the family norm today. Instead of warring parents or family members who demonstrate that life is a constant battle, just one person who can provide love, peace and support is far better for a growing child. My mother Pratibha brought me up single-handedly and I share a special bond with her.
Two very different people with thoughts on the same thing could strike a chord with me harmoniously.
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
Sound In My Head
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1 comment:
hmm..crossings..i thot ud be a woman in yr thirties or forties perhaps..maybe cause i found yr words.. calm..dignified..passionate..with no intent to play to the gallery..one cud suffer from verborrhoea...but sometimes a few choice words said in quiet sincerity cud say so much more..
i liked this piece very much "how he sounds in my head ".
i wud like to share this quote with u..i smile whenever i read it.. it touches me in a certain way..whenever i am led to doubts and the purpose of our existence ..it calms me..
its from tagore..
The same stream of life that runs
through my veins runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measure.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean cradle of birth and death, in ebb and flow.
My limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.And my pride is from the life throb of ages dancing in my blood at this moment.
i read all of what u wrote..do keep writing :)
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