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When you are waiting,
And nothing happening.
Not even a fickle of wind,
Not even a leaf is falling,
Not even a cricket is chirping.
The sky blue, orange and radiant
And just stuck like a painting.
The bird in the nest,
silently staring at you.
The music from far away,
playing without a change in rhythm.
The whole nothingness is fulfilling.
✓ You are the expert in the field!
✓ You have lot of relevant and recent experience in the same field.
❖ Yet - when communicating to someone about it, hold your horses.
✓ Stop thinking intuitively about how much you can and will talk about this.
✓ Stop default mode of dumping all your years of acquired knowledge to other person.
❖ Take a pace back and think - what other person is expecting.
❖ In other words - what other ear is hoping to hear. (Thus Alter-ear or Alter-lobe in the title)
✓ (Put yourself in their shoe - and think what are they expecting from you. )
✓ Start pre-preparation.
❖ Think introspectively - if given a chance, what are they asking you?
❖ What's their single most important - one and only question?
✓ Answer only that question.
✓ And then give them an actual chance to probe you more.
✓ Follow-up and expand your communication to follow their line of thought.
✓ You are still an expert.
❖ But now you have become a recognized expert.
✓ Remember "communication" is better a "conversation" - not a one way radio.
Withered by the surprising storm,
Forced to take shelter here,
In this cave atop the hill.
--
Once upon an era back -
This used to be my favorite,
Too many memories floating here.
--
Then, it happened -
Gods fought a war here,
Ferociously and fiercely.
--
The whole valley and hill charred,
All that is lively is dead.
All that is green and brown is charred.
--
Gods rode away -
After a brokered truce,
Leaving all that is dead.
--
After storm passed -
Stretched and strolled -
Scanning all over.
--
Everything I glanced -
Made my heart heavy -
Destressing and depressing.
--
But at the center of it all,
Deep in the valley,
A lonely plant cheered me.
All I strive is to get into a rhythm,
And keep dancing until the music fades.
--
All this grilling, tiling and meditation -
All this spacing, dashing and tripping -
Is to find that nice rhythm I can keep dancing.
--
For so long,
I kept my eyes,
Pealed open -
Deciphering truth,
As I see fit.
I am going blind,
Little by little
Day after day.
With all this -
Bright light
Directly shed on me.
I need much more luminescence,
To make true sense -
Of what's in front of me -
All these years.
I built a glass lighthouse tower
And filled with fog
Only entagled can peak in.
But,
The machines taken over in a night
With,
Fancy vision they probed deep
Feeling me naked -
In my own foggy lighthouse glass tower.
Middle of the journey,
My eyes are burdened, burning and bright red.
I can not stop now,
Time for my three shot poison.
Across the lake,
where Salmon sheds salt,
there lies my flag.
I keep rolling
day after day.
Met an old man
on deathbed.
He smiled with grace,
and said with conviction.
"Time is the only currency -
Love is the only worthy pursuit."
I never forgot,
I never understood,
until this day.
Now,
the golden
silver clouds
are all gone.
Sun,
is shining bright.
Alas! too late for me!!
Maybe not of you.
In the beginning -
I was a white paper,
majestic, white and pleasing.
I was filled with ink of multitudes of colors,
crushed between two hot sheets.
My whole body was burning,
like in a hot coal fire -
but without any smog or soot.
Then, I was looked upon
examined by disappointed eyes,
Crumbled, fumbled and tumbled.
Then, I flew into lazy river,
wet, cold, damp, squishy.
Finally,
I am at Nirvana.
now I lost myself.
no longer exists as me,
rather just part of the flow.
I don't like polling,
I don't like waiting,
Give me an event!
Polling is boring,
Waiting is wasting,
event - act now!
Swarm, Swim,
break the dam -
The Salmon must flow!