Price Tag - Yourself

I wasn't born with a price-tag you see, I shan't die with one either.

If only I could sell everything on olx and everywhere else and be filthy rich,. I could settle down with the minimalist me, confronting the ill odds of logistics of living. 

There shall always be a catch in the games we do play, why we eat drink work sleep and pray. Pardoned for all the necessary evils and blessed for the devotion thee, Not everyone and everything is out open that too without a hitch, There will always be a ditched mockery of life as a bitch. Seldom taken for guaranteed, those unkempt promises are the ones from who ditch at the times lease expected. 

I grow poorer to the world so insane, its just that the hidden treasures that my soul pleases to my name. What good be thy artificial praises, or thy fame, if I don't stand a chance to witness holistic flame. Burning churning, makes me stronger and my worrying for the future comes to an end. I will soon be at peace with piece of my dignity and soulful realization. I shall worry no more once I am done doing that. Me, myself and mine is and shall suffice the rest of thee & when I am done, there shall be no chaos knocking my door, coming at me. Vigilantly standing alert to thy nuances ,perturbed, sometimes I wish, I could vanish away, still I praise the experiences thy made me taught making thee so brave. The womb that I came from & the time that shall take me to grave - all of it was never mine, grieving over it shall not be fine- No matter how struggle-some and pleasing moments that came and winded by, my whispered and loud breaths and breathlessness consoled my failures and praised my victories at the end. You better settle down, you timed witch, I have learned my lesson, unmaterialistic and selfless I have drawn closer to thy and thee, happy in my own little world, I am filthy rich.

No matter in which region or in which planet I live, to me it feels the same everywhere, the moon sun, stars, clouds, rain, winds, leafage, birds & the dogs, its very much the same elsewhere & alike. I only need air to breathe, food to eat, water to drink, sleep and everything else that suffices me. Like everyone else I too want to sleep under the starry moonlight peaceful sky & wake up to a glorified sunrise. We all are in closed walls, with shady windows with curtains. We still don't get time to open them up & clean the glasses, scrub the stains, stroll over the wet morning grass, feel the rain drops, get wet, gaze the sky. 

Sex, religions, caste, creed, colour-nothing binds me, nor does it separates. I am powerful enough to erase the demarcated lines, boundaries that separates thee, and overwhelms. Courageous enough in totality in love and fondness within & around, wherever you live, the world follows you, It's we those fail to follow it back. - Much tied up with the materialistic, that we tend to lose onto, forgetting the petite meaningfulness in the thing called life. 

My soulful spirits tend to be holy when I cherish the merrier zeal of living, right now every second..

The chillness of night and the warmth of the day is what confirms, I am still alive to cherish. What I see is beautiful to my utter conscious joy of realisation. All I need is a confirmation that I shall have a roof on my head to survive & be consciously alive to surroundings, finding myself all the more sufficed to the blessed & blissful act of Gods destined plans for me.

There is nothing, at all that would be worthy to barter a exchange deal, except life to thee death, those my arms would be willing to sell myself too. Quite a difficult realization - price tagging yourself.

All the more if I could barter those whom I loved, whom I was loved by, who existed no more, to return in lieu of my being gone. Time Machines are not meant to work in reality, if they did, could have sufficed at least to my small and dainty of desires to travel and mingle with everything and everyone, that ever existed in those fading memories, trying hard to keep them alive, yet buried.

Alive in this very moment. I will not be in the next. Young, growing old until I text. I breathe to breathlessness in days to come. Comforted means to a discomforted mess, and yet again' a vicious circle follows' There is evidently no end to this phenomenon of karma & destiny.


"In abundance if at all it exists...what should I do with it? who should I give it to? What I do of such wealth - life is just too short." If at all no work & all play makes Johnny a dull boy, he needs to fill his pockets with all the pennies he could save to secure his life or maybe an afterlife. - Anonymous