Words gallop through, wanting to be penned. A memory that I may have noted down, a phrase that I may have picked up and am eager to use, a story that I may have reflected upon and decided should take form, a poem I may have mindlessly scrawled as I was sitting on the beach, an epiphany I may have had hiking through the hills. Words, words and words. Free flowing, like the ocean water, like the mountain breeze. When I sit down to weave them together, though, the mind goes on an endless loop trying to find logic behind the seemingly haphazard thoughts. Whatever be the form the words take, in the end everything gets tangled and twisted, and the gibberish that then emerges the mind deems bizarre, not worth jotting down.
And hence silence triumphs overall.
It starts with days; days turn into months; and months tally up to years. What was once familiar and effortless with time becomes alien and arduous. Sometimes, the mind goes wild with all the words ambling through it that it wants some sort of direction, something that can pull it away from the circle that it keeps traveling trying to find the beginning or the end. That’s where the heart steps in. The heart, try as it may, fails, time and again, and helplessly watches the mind’s pursuit of sense. It squabbles with the mind about desires and wants; pushes the mind to just go for it without any qualms. It struggles and strives, and, once in a blue moon, emerges victorious.
And that’s when the words get to see the light of the day. At this moment of gratification, the mind hopes to be swayed more often than not, and the heart wishes to prevail over and over again.
And the clash continues…