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Ramblings of a lost Soul

The library of obscure little quirks of life

Do you remember the quaint little shop you passed by, tucked in a corner somewhere, with its dusty shelves sagging under the bizarre assortment of knick-knacks?

Some of you may have hurried past, spying the chaos of apparent junk within; others might have dived in to find treasure buried within.

The Silent Lament is that quirky little place brimming with a fusion of words and art. This is a portal to the little things of our existence that we often ignore or take for granted, from books, journals, movies, letters, poetry to paintings, music, photography, gardening, food, ruminations on stars, long talks with the moon, and so much more.

This is the essence of a wandering soul inside all of us, out in search of itself; finding a tiny bit of happiness in the memories of building the fountain of your garden, the obscure shelf of your library, a crumpled picture in a journal, an old painting, a dried flower preserved between the pages of a hardcover, a baby’s laughter, a loved one’s embrace; shedding tears over a personal loss, or a shared grief of the recent pandemic.

We are all separated by countless differences, divided by the boundaries of nations, segregated through languages, cultures, beliefs and what not. My exposure to people from diverse walks of life has led me to believe that despite the diversity we are not so different at our core. We are all searching for a way to live and enjoy our lives, to be happy and successful, to mean something, to leave our mark on the universe.

Taking the first step towards this journey of a meaningful existence into the unknown is a daunting task. It is the little things that remind us of who we are. It is those tiny moments that keep us grounded while reaching for the stars. This is the creative haven for an artist striving to preserve those moments in words, ink, paint and pixels.

This is the tiny nook carved out to contain the mismatched pieces of my spirit fitting in like a puzzle- a little chaotic, a bit serene, ecstatic and mournful, modern yet traditional, a child at heart, an old soul, serious, sarcastic, whimsical, a little romantic, a lot pessimistic, an artist, a bookworm, a writer, a pluviophile, and the list could go on forever. I discover a new facet to my personality whenever I can find it in me to introspect. Accepting and appreciating particularly drastic changes within oneself is terrifying. Revealing it to anyone else an even more daunting prospect for the fear of being found lacking in such an accomplished world.

We are all a tiny bit broken inside. we are all hurting inside to some degree. It is easier to share the moments of our joy, a lot more challenging to bare our hurts. Every heart cries out at one time or another, unable to express its anguish burning inside like lava.

Here is The Silent Lament of my heart I alone could hear that I could never vocalize, always afraid of not being understood, finally spilling out in torrents of ink and emotion.

To all those who have ever felt intimidated by the vastness of the whole wide world, cheers to feeling insignificant under the canvas of stars. We may never be able to reach those heights, but we can certainly dream under the starlight.

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