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Written: 22nd January, 2009.In the confinement of these walls,
Under the warmth of my mantle,
The being inside me calls
Mulling over... violent, yet gentle.
The notion of truth I mean-
What’s right and what’s not?
What’s true and what’s false?
What line parts the poles?
Good or Evil, whatever they be
Who is veritable, am I or thee?
Talks of morality, all seem vain,
The vast spectrum of values unlike,
Any fruit shall this discussion gain?
Mutual amity or a feud may strike
The lesson that ‘you ought to do’-
Heist the greed or earn by candour?
Carnal loyalty or rejoice in passion?
Speak that be or fake it up?
Virtue or Sin, whatever they be
Who is to judge, am I or thee?
Friend or foe, the world around
The matter of faith, so faint
Prudence or ardour, whichever is sound
To loathe as devil or hail as saint!
The question of trust and love-
Whom to believe and whom not?
Who one needs and he comes?
Who cares thee and who flaunts?
Kind or Mean, whatever they be
Who is to guess, am I or thee?
Tough to see, what life means:
Some substance or a mere illusion?
The red, the blue and the greens;
Or simply a black and white delusion?
The purpose of existence I mean-
Is it for fun or a greater goal?
Is it for progeny or shun this vale?
Live for me or a life of all?
Wisdom or Crap, whatever they be
Who is to decide, am I or thee?
Written: 27th March, 2004.One spring-morning, when I woke up,
I looked out of my bedroom window.
My yawning mouth instantly shut up,
As the smog-filled winds that blow,
Choked my throat; not able to sniff
That old pleasant spring-mischief.
I wondered, is this the same old spring,
When the flowers blossom and spray
Their scents; and the warm winds bring
The same old mood joy and gay?
The same old spring, when the birds
Chatter to their lives and flock in herds!
But this time, nothing is the same.
No flowers; but the scent of soot
Within the winds flowing with shame,
Without that old charisma that touches the spiritual root.
The birds are also quiet. And what more
Can they do, unable to find their door?
I beg you, oh humanity! Please give back
That pleasant mood of spring, which now, you lack.
Written: 11th January, 2004.Right from the time in gestation,
A man develops a great obsession;
A constant anticipation
Of earning money and having possession,
Which feeds him with elation.
But this maniacal passion
Of giving money an invitation,
Has taken over the love and compassion,
Which was once his identification.
His insane and unnatural profession
And greed to get the maximum allocation,
Will bring him back to his primitive regression.
He has cheated the whole nation
And has left truth in suppression.
But now, it’s the time to change the situation;
The time is right to change the fashion;
It’s the time for his reformation;
Time to end this money-hungry session;
The time for his ultimate salvation
From the golden wealth-headed oppression;
Because, a man himself, is God’s most precious creation.
Written: 6th January, 2004.
They say,
That we are the future of the nation.
But still,
These grown-ups want all the appreciation
For themselves.
Oh, Elves!
Please help us,
Ask Santa to take us to another dimension,
Where we can be the sole deciders
Of our fate and future;
Where, there would be no such thing,
As a grown-up creature.
They keep on telling us, what to do.
They treat us as slave.
They make us eat all the leafy goo!
And they teach us, how to behave.
They do not care about themselves:
How can they tell us, what to do,
When they aren’t aware of what they are doing?
The mess they are making in the world…I mean
Destroying the earth,
Which was once very green!
…And what about their eating habits?
All they eat is junk,
And feed us with the food
That is eaten by the rabbits!
They scold, “Behave yourself!”
But, do they know,
How to behave themselves?
Yeah, according to them,
The seven sins,
Are their only kins!
They say once again,
“You kids are the future of the nation!”
But, I wonder,
Once, they were also kids:
The future of the nation.
But, what have they achieved
By the scolds of their grown-ups?
Trickery, dishonesty and selfishness, is that all,
They have learnt?
Please forgive us,
We don’t want to be like them;
We don’t want the world to be a mess.
Please! Let go us.
We want to live together with love and peace.
‘Oh God! Please bless us!
Let us be free,
And live our lives without any malice.
After all,
We are the future of the nation:
Your most vulnerable creation!’
Written: 4th September, 2003.
This poem was a result of the unease and frustration due to the horrendous war in Iraq and a spillover of 9/11 and Afghanistan War. It is targeted at the widespread violence in the world in 2003.
What a harsh place
This world is!
Everyone is an antagonist here:
No one is brother, No one sis.
None is considered thy kin;
All o’ them get you in a gin,
Where, forever you’re trapped within.
Violence and bloodshed, everywhere,
Out o’ the body, the blood does piss.
Hatred, vengeance, war all around,
No love, no peace, not even a kiss!
The humanity has gone down in a bin;
Just because o’ the humans’ sin,
The world is like a hell to live in.
It’s like a vast desert o’ violence
Where, There isn’t an oasis,
Where a person can get a change,
And can have a peaceful recess.
In this war, no one shall win;
Everyone is getting cheated under the chin
As all o’ them want to be King or Queen.
People have divided God and land
And their hearts are filled with malice!
He’s a Christian; He’s a Muslim,
He’s an Indian; He’s a Swiss.
Oh please! Stop this din;
It seems like a pointed pin
Is digging into an empty tin.
Let’s forget and forgive,
Let’s spread the peace.
Open your heart; accept everyone,
And feel the heavenly bliss.
Spread your arms, with a widely grin;
Forget your religion or color o’ skin,
The world should be a peaceful place to live in.
