Late night at the fortress, high, Higher than a kite in the sky, Surrounded by people smelling of piss and sweat Dirty walls holding tears of it's thousand inmates. Segregated and kept separated Beaten and tortured until broken Locked in these cells like animals, who don't cooperate, Spend forever here on charges of crimes against the state. Blades run for those who disobey, Killing all that comes on it's way, Chains bind them to their doom, Going mad together in this tomb. My mind's intoxicated, all my senses blurred Thoughts pummel my head, bordering on the absurd I need to get to Raven,I need to fortify her But the visions in front me form a constant blur. Inside the cages filled with golden canaries, These walls hide their most priced possession, A hundred year old bard, With long flowing hairs and beard Whiter than Gandalf, from the darkness appeared Growling in a voice, strong enough to persuade even the purest To melt even the strongest And to cure even the sickest. Blinded by the light, I bow down on one knee And listen to Orpheus go on a recitation spree.
Rising Sun in the rear mirror.
Brittle breeze sniffing on the red scarf
That she wraps around her neck
Hiding the tattoo she was given at birth.
The wretched river follows us right by the side
Of the road we’ve been ridin’ through all night
Through dark forests that smell of dead corpse
Filled with fireflies and nymphs playing harps.
She looks like she was brought down from heaven
Just for me,
She’s the one they call by the name ‘Raven’
She’s come to set me free.
She’s more beautiful than I can comprehend
Her eyes looking at me with reminiscence
Her face makes me wanna sing
In voices I can’t listen.
I don’t know where she’s leading me,
But I want to follow her
No matter how far
It’s not like I have a bigger purpose to serve.
She shines with a glistening glow
As the newborn sun kisses her face.
“Your life’s shorter than your shadow,
Ever wonder why you’re here, what’s your place?”
Born in the city of bones, I have never been bold
All my life I have done as I was told.
The thought of my place in this world never appeared
Or it did, and I taught myself to not think hard.
She turns her head and whispers, staring into my soul
“I know you have stories to tell, Sing them to me all”
I have always had a guitar
I want to play it to her
And even though I never learned to play it
I hit the strings, making up words to go with it.
“Sing to me, that’s all I ask of you
When the time comes, you will leave and forget all about me
But I want you to remember the songs you sing right now
Keep em’ and one day when you’re old, sing them in memory of me.”
“Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
The man who sits on his throne, as the whole world burns”
So, the quarantine boredom has finally caught on to me. I love watching movies and have been doing just that all day. But today, after evening, I really wasn’t in the mood anymore. So I got my stuff and made this painting. It ain’t anything special, but do let me know what you think of it in the comments.
It was the last week of November, I was sitting in my claustrophobic hostel room in Kota, Rajasthan with all the lights in my room turned off. I had skipped classes for almost a month and had caught a really bad fever by the end of it. We had our major tests coming up but I had no intentions of studying. I just sat there in the darkness – thinking. Thinking about what I can’t explain (or maybe i don’t wanna explain). That night I read a book, not just any book but “The Catcher in the Rye” bu J.D. Salinger. And it spoke to me, in words no human being in living form ever could. I was suddenly able to analyse the thoughts going on in my head, that were troubling me this whole time. It sat back pressing my head against the cold wall, thinking about the book over and over. It was in this moment I was understood what Paul Simon had meant in his 1964 hit single “The Sound of Silence”, when he said,
“People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share…”
Art has the power to move people – speak to them about things they never thought they could or they understand. It adds so much more meaning to the world we see, that it in turn helps us see ourselves. That night, “The catcher of the rye” sang to me songs that voices could never have shared. I suddenly had a newfound passion – the passion to write, the passion to sing songs voices could never share. I called my mom and booked tickets for home the next morning. I didn’t give any of the tests that year (which I heavily regretted at the end though) and when I came back to Kota, I knew this was just a phase of my life I have to pass. And I did. Without any problems? No, It was still pretty horrible but at least I was not seeing any false hopes now. I knew myself better and I knew what I wanted to do. The catcher in the eye was only a example, over the last few years I have consumed a lot of pieces of art that have have changed my life or shaped me to be who I am today. I love reading books. I love watching movies. I love making movies. I love listening to music. I love dancing to music. I love to pack my bags and set out on a trip to the hills with no plans whatsoever. And this blog is my way of sharing all that with you guys.
But just like any good relationship, it goes both ways. If you want to listen to the songs that voices never share, you need to listen carefully. You need to give the artist and the art the respect it deserves to understand what it’s trying to say. And that’s where I come in. I will be analyzing various pieces of art, movies, music, poetry, stories etc, here in this blog in detail. I want to dig deeper and find the meaning behind some of the works of my favorite artist, along with sharing some of my own work, and use them to help you in way to listen to the songs voice never share. Hopefully, my blog will make you understand yourself better.
And till the next post, remember to always listen to The Sound of Silence.