Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Maya

Love and lost, believed and broken. It’s a existence of was and now,
It’s difficult accepting life as a pendulum that swings between these
Two extreme entities. Perhaps this is the reason the call love Maya an illusion. Because that’s who she is. A make believe world that you weave around yourself keeping you snug in days of lonely barrenness and emotional poverty. A state of bliss and surreal satisfaction. Its just A matter of time till the sun comes up and eats the dreamy mist in a fraction of a second. Suddenly you are woken up to naked reality. The thin muslin that you had covered it with is torn into a million pieces and you are forced to stare at the scars that mar the face of perfection. Love is perfect human beings are not. In this world of infinite uncertainties and pain it is this illusion that we want to spend our lives in. Then starts the journey in search of a mystic illusion a lie that you will buy with a thousand truths. You search for the ever elusive Maya.

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