barefoot

youtu.be/ch8pwy-V1E8

The powerful play goes on, and we can but contribute a verse.

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  • barefoot 1d

    The walls inside us
    are invisible but
    strong
    They whisper to us
    in our most
    vulnerable moments
    about boundaries
    we must never cross,
    formidable they stand
    promising to keep us
    safe from everything
    that can break us,
    Hardened by
    the scars
    that everyday life
    forces on
    us,
    we build and safeguard
    and finally fall in love
    with these walls that
    we slowly
    but surely build

    And then comes that day
    when the walls
    makes us our own
    prisoners and
    on that day
    we feel like we betrayed the
    one thing that had kept us alive:
    Hope.
    And on that day,
    We could either break free
    or stay imprisoned.
    The choice is
    solely ours.
    Staying imprisoned would
    Keep us safe
    but lost and
    Breaking free
    would leave us
    vulnerable
    but alive .
    And instead of being architects
    Of invisible walls,
    We could try
    to be advocates of hope.
    ©barefoot

    #break #wod
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    Break free

  • barefoot 46w

    I don't know
    if the walls that surround
    you today has been kind
    to you, and I don't know
    if the cup of chai that went
    cold while you had been busy,
    went into the accounts of everything
    you couldn't savour because
    you had been just too busy or simply too human.
    I don't know if anyone looked into
    your eyes today
    For longer than a moment
    because it mattered to them. The light
    you hold in your eyes. And I don't know
    if you decided to take up less space today
    because the world just
    felt too heavy to hold you,
    And I don't know if the blanket you
    folded mindlessly today morning as you went over your to-do list had more creases because
    you just couldn't understand where to squeeze in
    life amidst your long list, and
    I don't know if someone touched your life
    like it was the only meaningful moment of
    their day , and I don't know if you have grown
    too old to wonder at the absurdity of it all, life I mean, and I don't know
    if you are sighing right now because these
    words mean absolutely nothing or if you
    are smiling instead because despite it meaning nothing
    You know now that someone out there is just as
    clueless about the pulse of life beating within them as much as you . And I don't know if
    these words will be forgotten just as we all are bound to be but I know that in this moment
    You held it , these words, in your softly beating anonymous heart and for that reason alone , it is phenomenally fulfilling, the process of stringing together thoughts that
    Will touch the mind of another life
    That you can probably never know ,
    but just simply embrace .

    @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 52w

    // A fairytale that brews within us smelling like the aftermath of a long war //


    If capitalism wasn't a thing,
    and if you didn't have to pretend
    To know why you are doing
    What you are doing , and
    you didn't have to spend half
    your present moment thinking
    about everything the future possibly
    holds in store for you and the other
    half thinking about everything you didn't
    do right to be able to attain everything
    you are hoping to attain , and then you
    scroll through the smart device in
    your hand that offers you distractions
    and solutions to get out of this ever
    numbing race between the past and the
    future and you come across a man dressed
    in beige white telling you to just live here now,
    in the present moment , trusting the universe
    and all that other magical paraphernalia,
    and you follow the advice for a blissful
    few minutes before your body and mind
    which has been trained again and again and
    again ruthlessly but efficiently by the world to believe in productivity and race and competition and economy alone, gets back into reality
    And you fall back again into the world of
    climbing up your personal ladder to glory with effortless ease even without being aware of it
    because it is what tragically feels most familiar
    to you and then when your spirit is drained
    And you walk back to that nook in your heart
    That narrates to you a fairytale you can
    temporarily find solace in , instead of the reality
    That drills the fairy tale magic out of your
    blood and dreams, you sit quietly by the window, and
    listen to your heart brag about the magic that
    awaits you and you listen with childlike
    curiosity because somehow even with everything that has been robbed off you , you still believe
    in a miracle, in a miracle awaiting you around the corner and
    You somehow believe that if you just find
    The courage to find meaning in the beat of your
    heart instead of finding it in the identities that the
    Society carves out for you to occupy , you will be
    Able to wage your own silent revolution within your
    Ancient mind that has been trained to slave away for a cause that means absolutely nothing to the life
    in you and you somehow believe that if you just keep waging this revolution instead of falling prey to the promises of a bound society, for the sake of your own self, then one day you will be able to live in the present knowing
    without doubt that it is a present you are glad to
    be alive to because it is genuinely more beautiful than any fairytale you escape to in your spare hours.
    And you know it came to light because
    you chose to pick up the pen to write your own
    fairy tale, instead of easing into the story the world
    has written time and again in the blood of lost dreams and freedom.

    @writersnetwork
    @mirakee Thank you for offering a space for so many fairytales to take birth. You are exceptional ❤️

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 53w

    It was half past
    three when we
    decided to vent our
    feelings over a video call,
    Half the day had passed already
    between the same walls
    and mind and chaos,
    and time had spilt through my
    veins like sand that I willingly
    let go of
    because the purpose of
    building a castle with it seemed
    pointless without you beside me
    to watch it get washed away by
    the ocean called life,

    You were wearing the
    shirt we had purchased on the day
    we had roamed around the city
    with just a book of poetry, two cups
    of cold coffee and loads of anecdotes and
    silences and moments of
    unexpected togetherness.

    I wished without saying
    that I could
    smooth
    gently that unruly crease on your shirt collar, while
    you spoke about the millionth online
    meeting you had just gotten out of,
    And you told me that you wished you could
    hold my hand while I told you about
    the way the sky reminded me of our love.

    I could see that you hadn't made your bed,
    and when I asked you about lunch, you said you didn't remember much about it.
    It
    hurt me then most of all
    that I couldn't make you a cup of tea and
    make your bed and read you a line from gitanjali before asking you to come take a walk with me while we let the day fall away from our hearts.

    It hurt me that distance now stood staring at
    our desire for oneness with so much alacrity and
    we had nothing to fill it with but our hope.

    But at the end of the call,
    before asking me to stay safe and
    ending our brief rendezvous with a formal
    see you later, you told
    me that the next time you hold me against you,
    you would remember to hold me
    a minute longer , and you would never again
    take the moments we
    share together for
    granted for now you see that without it
    everything, everything
    seems bleak,
    and I sighed and simply asked
    you to
    smoothen that crease on your collar
    before
    you attend that meeting with your colleague
    you had told me about and
    you smiled widely
    And with that smile
    You held my heart
    instead of
    my hand and unknowingly,
    even with the distance and uncertainty lurking over us still , it all suddenly seemed alright for that single moment and I found myself letting
    hope
    dissolve the distance.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 54w

    Let us take the
    Long road home today.
    Let us lower down the
    window a little lower than usual
    And let the wind dishevel everything

    but our hearts.
    And maybe we could then play that
    song that reminded you of
    the time you held music in your
    blood like oxygen . And
    When the time comes for us to
    disrupt the
    awkward silence with our small talk,
    Let us bravely
    let the awkwardness rip the mask
    Out of our minds. And let us then
    wait for our love alone to replace the silence.
    And when you ask me if I remember when
    the world had stood still for
    A long time holding its breath,
    And when you tell me that it felt a lot like
    The world was hesitant to
    come back alive, let us remember to hold
    our hands like it
    Is all that matters
    and let us be grateful that
    It did come back alive, the world, in fact
    more alive than before, as
    though it had dusted off layers of ignorance for the transient beauty of life, and now it stood
    blazing with so much passion
    and vigour and hope, that we
    now didnt need to be reminded any more
    That
    To just breathe
    is sometimes all it takes to

    Belong.

    And when we reach home late,
    let us take a moment to
    tell the world
    That she is beautiful.
    Maybe we didn't see it before,
    When we had rushed towards our destinations,
    Always taking the short route but now
    That we had stood still long enough
    and waited, for hope to make its way back home.
    We know now
    that she, the world is
    Worth saving
    And taking the time to get to know
    her must be
    our only
    real purpose.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 58w

    the sun hadn't
    set yet when you
    looked towards me
    with that everyday glance
    Of yours
    holding a dried twig in your
    left hand
    To tell me that the world
    didn't seem to excite you anymore.
    I didn't look at you because
    You had more to say and looking at
    You would make us both pause at the
    absurdity of our untold grief tumbling out
    Like uncalled guests in the moment.
    But there is this urge
    within me to live, you see. You went on.
    I don't know where its roots lay
    but during those rare moments
    When I declare that numbness is what I am
    destined for , I see my old father pick
    up the weeds in our garden like
    It his children he is tending to or I see
    my mother run her hands gently through the
    Fur of the cat that follows her around
    Or I see how life fits into
    Each other like it makes no sense alone
    because it never was meant to be a lone creation
    Because togetherness was its only purpose
    And,
    And I see how it is all chaotically entangled
    like it is an endless story
    With a verse we each contribute ,
    A verse that really holds no meaning as such
    Unless it becomes a part of the whole story.

    I looked at you as the ray of the setting sun
    Illumined your face that was lit with love,
    And

    I couldn't comprehend how you always
    started with the absurdity of the world and ended it
    with the meaning of community. Like your
    Heart held a cosmic ache to be held . By everything.
    I looked at you with awe
    because in this moment my life had just one
    Meaning and that was to simply sit next to you and listen to you talk about life with its black and white shade
    merged into a seamless gray love.

    And while the sun set and we
    managed to speak our way into peace,
    I knew that the sun
    sets every day like it
    Needs to surrender to darkness to
    Find its way again but the light in our hearts,
    That,

    That will stay alight
    Until we see how
    Life is
    Here. Amidst and in and because
    Of us. And in oneness lies its
    Profound
    Beauty.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 59w

    //" It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society"- Jiddu Krishnamurthy //

    So when the day
    is done and you
    have survived
    through the hours :
    Half mindful ,
    Half unwilling,
    And you are
    Lying down in your not so
    freshly made cot
    In your dimly lit room
    Staring at the ceiling occasionally
    And occasionally filling
    Up the leftover of the day scrolling
    Mindlessly through the entertainment
    Your smart phone offers you,
    Trying to desperately
    gobble it up like it
    is what sustains your heart,
    What really does it mean when
    you reply with a fine followed by
    A smiley when your friend
    Unwittingly asks you,
    How are you faring?
    Does it mean you have settled
    for the plainness
    Since
    you have
    accepted it as a fact that
    Life, yes life has to be this.
    This script that repeats itself to death.
    Maybe you have taken
    survival for life. Maybe that is
    Where the world has pushed us
    To now. But in
    The rare moments when
    you are desperately trying to
    Make up for time spent
    fighting a war in the light of day
    With the peaceful numbness of the digital screen,
    And you happen to come across
    Your heart telling you that ,
    I am tired, and this is just so wrong,
    Please
    Don't numb it with self-love or positivety,
    Listen to it, for it may be telling you
    The truth, that this cannot be it, and
    whether reluctantly or not,
    ask yourself
    If being alive is just this,
    Or if it is a lane you have forgotten to
    take because the whole world
    was walking on a different lane and
    asked you
    To follow
    simply because it seemed rational.
    And you followed because it seemed
    Less lonely
    And sane .

    And finally ask your crowded mind, if rebellion is the cost you
    Have to pay for
    Being alive,
    Why be afraid, when life is

    Price less ?

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 59w

    A recipe for preserving happiness

    1.a vast field of love that is free
    2.a brook of acceptance that life changes.
    3.a hill of realisation that we can be broken.
    4.a sky of empathy that has no trade value
    5.a blanket of curiousity for our own pulsing desire
    6.a heart of gratitude that does not carry remorse.
    Mix the field of love with the brook of acceptance while trying to sift through the noise in the mind. Gently place the hill of realisation in the field despite the constant nagging of the world that asks you to believe only in perfection. While letting the hill settle into the field, stir the sky of empathy into the mixture with gentle understanding that we are all beneath the same blue unknown reality. While covering the delicious mixture with the blanket of curiousity remember to tell your self that there is still a lot of life left inside your heart, to be alive for despite every circumstance that makes you believe that it might be the end. And in the end , never forget to sprinkle the heart of gratitude for without it everything seems without a purpose really. Now place the field in the light of your awareness and let it sink in. When it sinks deep inside the cracks of your hurting wounds, let out of a sigh of relief and thank yourself for having the kindness to feed your own aching soul. And When your soul is fed, remember to serve your love and kindness to the hungry world too. You will realise that doing this heals your heart faster. Because in the end, we are all just aching to be fulfilled.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee
    img src: pinterest

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 59w

    My grandfather was
    sixty years old when he
    told me that he had never
    once told
    grandma
    that she
    is the apple of his eye.
    Why declare
    love when it
    Can be felt
    he said.
    I wonder
    What would grandpa
    say now when
    so much is declared
    but
    very,
    very little felt?
    He would probably ask
    me to look more deeply.
    But how would I
    tell him that the world prefers
    blindness when it comes to truth
    And love (both being
    Synonymous)?
    So if grandpa tells me to look
    deeper I would

    Tell him that I don't know grandpa.
    I don't know
    how to look anymore.

    Grandpa I know will then ask me to
    have faith in the universe, the same
    Universe
    that lost its sanity in the big bang
    just to
    Know what a
    pulsing heart eager for love would feel
    Like. And then
    I would reluctantly say,
    Grandpa but what if having
    Faith seems
    naive to me in a world that is
    moving towards
    A reality where love too could be
    automated?
    Grandpa would
    then sigh at my foolishness.
    And my near sightedness .
    And tell me
    that even today

    even after he
    has left the earth
    grandma is the apple of his eye,
    because even
    Death failed to
    Take his love away from
    her even when his heart stopped beating.
    And I would
    Know he is saying the truth,
    For even today
    within grandma's tear
    I feel his smile.
    And his undeclared alive naive child
    like love,
    And so
    just for the sake of that timeless
    love
    I will feel, look and even have
    faith even if
    It would be really
    foolish
    to do so .
    For
    why not
    have faith in that
    which remains unmarred
    By death even?
    Love
    I mean.

    #musing #temp

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    ©barefoot

  • barefoot 60w

    Dear stranger,

    I am not going to assume who you are and what you are feeling within yourself in this moment.
    I don't really know if it is joy that life has offered you today or if it is grief that is making you question the purpose of life today. I don't know what your relationship with life today is and I don't find it right really to intrude. I don't know anything about you and that is why writing this to you feels like a beautiful undertaking because our relationship is not yet marred by a heavy dose of expectation or nostalgia.

    I am guessing that maybe you want me to tell you that it is all going to be fine? This our lives I mean.

    I don't want to.
    I really don't because you would have heard this too many times and now I just want to tell you the
    not so poetic reality of life just as I experience it every day in between the rare moments of glory.
    Maybe then you can know that we, you and me are not so dissimilar in our extremely Ordinary lives which connects each of us in the most extraordinary way possible.

    You see I walked my grandfather to the clinic the other day. While walking to the clinic to get his old heart checked I saw a girl holding onto the strong shoulder of her grandfather while alighting her school bus and I held onto my grandpa's hand a little tighter wanting his heart to live on for ever you see . For my sake. For the sake of my relationship with him. For love. I need his heart to keep beating. And grandpa just smiled in his ordinary way and I had to make do with this small mundane gesture.

    Today I received a call from my best friend that she will be shifting to the other side of the world for her higher education. Now how am I to handle this?
    The one with whom I had been my most goofy vulnerable self had decided to freeze that version of me within long distance calls. And in the most ordinary way she said that we will learn to make the distance shorter through the digital world . And I had to make do with this assurance.

    All I am trying to say is that life is not that poetic.It really isn't. It is bare, it is vulnerable , it is open to errors, it is just what it is. And yet when you come to think of it, it is life too that gave me a grandpa with such a vastly kind heart even if it has grown old now, it is life which gave me a friend I am willing to time travel for.
    So I guess in the end , life is
    ordinary but that is exactly what makes it
    so beautiful.
    That something that is so beyond our human understanding
    Can be so ordinary in its essence?
    I just don't want to tell you that life is going to be fine you know? I want you to know that
    Life is going to be everything.
    Fine, not so fine, ordinary, extraordinary.
    And that's why you are so lucky to be
    Living it. Because you get to experience
    Life in her entirety.

    And It is my only wish that you come to have such a deep relationship with life that you embrace her in all her shades
    and even love her more for it.
    Through it all.
    The ordinary
    And the extraordinary.

    with love,
    barefoot.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #stranger

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    ©barefoot