A massive crowd is isolation
Published on January 22, 2017

A massive crowd is isolation

A massive crowd is isolation

 Solitude is a massive crowd

A sigh distant colossal cloud.

Solitude is a massive crowd. Self introspection calls on table creatures irrespective of size and shape. Some pulsing memories, few cactus bushes of painful scripts written in the den of gloom. And some secrets caged behind innocent folds. Solitude demands a gathering which comes at fore without invitation. The guests of solitude are brought to table either by introspection or by imaginations. They serve accordingly. These guests of vapour either irritate or inspire us. It may appear to the observer that isolation wrecks a person, yet the same builds confidence. Every solitude is blissfull if channelised in right direction to yield a full sac of favourable fruit.

Sin in a den black abuses

Vanity vanishes in shroud.

In the crowd of solitude, one never feels lonely. The crowd is so massive that one may hardly find time to interact and converse with the guests of loneliness. Imagination serves the best when one is equipped with the wings of fancy which in reciprocity lifts a mind beyond the barriers of harsh concertina walls guarded by pre-occupied intellect governed by a system called ' Politics'. Apolitical solitude promises governance which best suits a free man, a free mind and free dream. Freedom soars a free mind up in the ether and a free mind only enjoys freedom in free sense.

Modesty, a cocoon of love

For knowledge nay ever be proud.

In a jocund company of solitude, a juvenile mind may draft a script of silence which in turn possibly be read by the crowd in the campus of his own hem where certain folds of mind shall obtain wings to express unaddressed woes, worries and wailful postscripts hitherto concealed in the semi circular rib cage, knocking hard against breast bone to toss the hills of heart, depriving it from the velvetty frill of honey coloured moments, a must thrill of human heart. What actually kills a man is not his isolation but the mortal crowd of mundane mind which exhausts a heart to the extent of pagandom.

 In temple from crowd be aloof

 In honour always do stand vowed.

Solitude topped with spiritual blessings, coated with devotion and determination leads to a land where nomenclatures, symbols and codes are dissolved to yield love. Solitude is the gateway leading to spaceless cosmos of spiritual openess meant for saints. Silence acquired out of solitude speak volumes, narrate endless verses and communicate non-verbally much better than verbs and gestures. This non-verbal communication fits the one who deserves to live outside his own woven cocoon of conventionalism.What surprises a man is not his accountability, but his freedom of expression, his flexibility of imaginations and immense potential to expand his carpet of self-actualisation. This spiritual inclusiveness is possible only when one falls in love with solitude and derives pleasure from 'emptiness' which to many is escapism unfortunately.

Among millions alone I feel

Whisper of this heart now so loud.

Inclusiveness is a source of perfect joy. Perfect joy promises isolation. Isolation from bondages, mental acrobatics, intellectual hazards and compromised thought process. The more one retires from the rackles of illusions, the more one comes in close proximity with Nature. One who finds himself in the company of serene landscape of resourcefulness, may in true sense be a citizen of solitude, wherein, metaphysical guests lay mattress in the campus of temple to irritate hollow conventionalist who preach and practise their hollow principles of religiousity within the ambits of their limitations, within their conserved and motivated motives.

Guests, angels of Lord visits nay

To the one who are broadly browed.


Isolation is wrongly mentioned as exclusiveness for leading 'reason' to suffer in the hands of imagination which to 'experience' is just a non- sensible yawn, but the same inclination softens the rough edges of 'innocence' that initiates an action against this lethal tendency which not only deprives a man from his potentials, but also tires out humility like a dazzling sun squeezes the stored water from the succulent tissues of desert vegetation. The crowd of isolation is indeed massive for its space and time doesn't need walk clocks and fashionable brands of wrist watches, but it certainly requires a massive podium to address ones own audience who better listens and comprehends your diction, pitch and penetration.

 In temple from crowd be aloof

 In honour always do stand vowed.

Gratitude if be on thy lips

Ye shall  heavenly be endowed.

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