The Monarch

“ I have been thinking about what hurts more the jar or the pins. And I think I can tell you that it is not the pins. Because the monarch in the jar is already dead when it comes to the pins. At some point things stop hurting; and from inside the jar, with eyes that see in all directions, maybe it is possible to look into the future, well beyond the pins, to where the compass in your head tells you that you need to go”

These lines from the movie PU 239, have been stuck in the crinkles of my cranium for a while now. They are for me, a story of the phoenix rising from the dead. A story that can be, only if the Monarch is ready to rise.

At some point things do stop hurting. But does all the hurt make the Monarch stronger or leaves him numbed, with a broken soul?

By the time one sees that glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel, is it possibly too late? Is it possible that the bonds of the jar and miseries of life have pinned one enough to not care whether the light at the end of the tunnel is a train heading in their direction?

We struggle through our share of cuffs and chains, and our eyes, through the glaze, see the beautiful future ahead. A beautiful future , so surreal, of another world, and the mind refuses to believe. And yet, with a future as an excuse we continue to tread - Eyes shut tight, fingers crossed “Please let it be true, Please let there be that heaven I was promised”

Leave all the fun for the "One fine day in some remote future ahead", now is about the challenges. Now is about following rules blindly and suffering, for some day else will be a day to rejoice.

When did we pin ourselves into these jars? How did we forget, it is within us to break ourselves free?

It is time for the Monarch to ride the zephyr once again. Time to break the Jar. The power to break free is in the Now, not some distant future ahead.

Will the Monarch rise from the dead though, will he take back his throne in the winds!?

********* 28th September 2010 *********

Came across the Big Fuzz Skeptical Caterpillar in my inbox, reminded me of my Monarch . It's quite an interesting tale.... The Big Fuzzy Caterpillar

Sleep In Peace

The line at the edge of my world is blurring. The fortress separating my real from surreal has been compromised. I live a dream, I am numbed, as I bob amid crass and perfection.

The struggle has come to an end. No more kicking. No crying for Justice. The soft sobs resonating in my head, a reminder of tears that long went dry, a reminder of the world that was, a world I knew, fast falling apart.

I can slice a piece of denseness around me. An illusion of peace, a barricade to all that resonates, the agitation and excitement alike.

What do I do with a slice of dense something? Sell peace in a Box?

If I was selling peace in a Box, if the concept was remotely possible, would you buy it!?

Are you ready for peace? Isn’t Peace stagnating? Isn’t Peace Boring? Would it be jumping the gun, to buy peace in a Box and never really know what colourful experiences the Agitation and Excitement would bring to you? Choose the blue pill from the Matrix fame, let the story end, live in your nut shell of a world, and believe in Peace or whatever you want to believe.

It is exciting to see glimpses of peace through the clouds of chaos in my head. I know though, I am not ready for the Permanence yet, not ready for that kind of calm.

Choosing such peace is choosing death, for nothing else can bring that peace. The day I have learnt it all, seen how deep the rabbit hole goes and my purpose met, is the day I will sleep in peace.