Can I?

One who teaches, is a teacher
One who drives, is a driver...
If I pray, will i become a prayer??

to rise...in prayer...

The unreason of trudging uphill for hours on end, trying to immerse into an expression of faith made universal and mass, just to support and encourage its otherwise unsure individual existence, threatened by reason. Shouting loud, encouraging cries to buck up the flailing steps and the failing power in the lungs and the legs. To pay homage to a force that one does not get to do for more than one hurried inhalation of struggling breath. Reason and unreason. Jai Mata Di, cries that tie believers and unbelievers, strangers and intimaters, go downers and up climbers, all encouraging each other to believe for that one more step, take that one more laboured breath. In a country where folklores abound and multiply to keep pace with rising need for some justification for unanswered prayers to keep away seemingly inevtiable sorrows, there shall always be a dancing around between the unreason of faith vs the reason of effect of directly proportional relationship between height, weight, age, social standing...us and them...to reach up, so as to bow down....and not give faith even time enough to find itself and redefine...

To love with abandon. That is to say, to abandon oneself to love the other. so that all that remains, is the other, with the YOU becoming an amorphous thought, flowing in and out of the lover. No equal relationship on love and faith. Reach up high...higher...higher still, if someone is to be achieved....cos u r not worth reaching up for...in ur case, it shall always be a reaching down. it is a tick mark in one of the many boxes that govern one's life - birth, education, marriage, children, faith.....subjugation...yes sir! done! over and out! when the tick mark has been placed in the last box, you are ready for redemption, for celebration in the Club of the Broken Spirits Anonymous. No 12 steps here. Till you don't dissolve into a chirping, saluting, salivating, crawling, unrecognisable mass of whimpering brokenness, the doors of this halloed elevator to hell are shut to you. Fall, so you shall rise. Faith....Love...God....Lover....your hand creeps slowly towards the last box in my life...