Lately, the sun seems to set a little early and the rain lingers long enough to cause tiny goose bump chills. It's a struggle to get out of bed when you can hear the sound of rain against your window. It could be a full-time occupation. Watching the rain. It brings back memories, sometimes hurt. Mainly hurt. Until sunlight streams through rainbow colors, dancing to a merry tune.
mujhe tum se pyaar hai
What do you do at concerts that go on for a little longer than usual? Say, 45 minutes of Beethoven's op. 132 in A Minor? I enjoyed it totally, but at some point (blame it on ADD), I had to pull out a pen and write my thoughts.
Seducing Art Forms:
In The Elephant Vanishes, Murakami writes about a mesmerizing dancing dwarf. That's what it's like - the talent at the concert was mesmerizing. Seductive. Manipulating emotions.
When was the last time you witnessed great talent? A true artist? A dancer, a painter, architect, musician, entertainer, writer? You get sucked in to their world.
Good writers do that with such ease. They orchestrate words that take you to a high crescendo or bring you crashing to a non-existent reality. Words that inspire and motivate, build and encourage. They give us words to love and cherish and embrace with warmth.
And yet, what do we do with words? Nag and pester, gossip, slander, tear down and manipulate. The seduction of words spoiled by human selfishness.
I prefer the gentle art of silence.
