A blind man’s dream

justice.jpg

Justice is what a blind man dreams

Not what is, but what seems

Paid for, in false approval

Held firm, to placate the moral

Writ out, to defend the ego

And passed on, before we go

Looking down, we are so tall,

That, others look a bit too small

We strive to prove that we are strong

That “I” am right, and all else wrong

I choose to quit, withdraw my screams

As justice is what a blind man dreams

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Scars

Scars.png

My scars, they mark their ugly faces

And chequer my stars, my luck, and my graces

On my face’s dark and mucky creases

They wreck me apart and break me to pieces

Each one, a rock weathered with time

But none, would talk or tell me who I am

Each one cut deep like a tether around me

And let weep, since that time they found me

And bound me, to wince, to a piquing sentence

Forbid me remorse or seeking repentance

But worse was when the grinding did stop

As finding myself is my only hope

I fight but I fear being lonely and friendless

With scars to remind me only what’s endless

Wounds of words, said, unsaid

Those wounds may heal but scars won’t fade

Hide and Seek

Hide-and-Seek-Game

There are noises in the courtyard of yore

As I count to ten, pausing at will

Listening to catch a flutter or more

Of Mam’s sari – moving or staying still

Of Baba, tiptoeing in from behind

Or Deedee shouting a sharp “Boo”!

Family – was all I needed to find

I realize now, in life too

They didn’t notice me sneaking a peek

Recollecting those scampering days

Even before I had begun to seek

Before we grew up and parted ways

But they did notice when I came back

And searched the closet, and under the bed

That I looked in the loft and behind the rack

For long lost games and tales unsaid

That I smelled the fresh linen in the hall

And wondered how my room still felt

Like every tile on every wall

Has a fraction of my life beheld

The incense sticks, the clankering pots

The stock of sweets hid from me

All come alive as I search my thoughts

And play hide and seek with history

When times grow up and leave me lonely

I pay a visit to my childhood again

And I wish I could seek my family, only

By closing my eyes and counting to ten

Choice

As my country celebrates freedom, I realized that freedom, to me, is not just being a citizen of a sovereign nation, but the right and ability to make My choices. It comes with the responsibility of making the Right choices. To understand Freedom and lead a free life, hence, I must, first, understand Choice.

Choice! You Godsent devil,

You come, as plaguing power

A bowman of moral questions

You strike, at my weakest hour

Choice! A tyrant that you are

You mock, the corpses of free will

Of empires that once were

Of establishments that are still

Choice! You gardener of doubt

You pave my way to the cure

Then blindfold me at the leap

And ask me, “Are you sure?”

Choice! The father of destiny

You preach and beg me to reason

And yet when you watch me falter

You cry out – You are free, Son!

The storm I embraced

110712084936--Bristol Shakespeare Festival review The TempestShe held my hand and pulled me through
I, the steadiest ship on the shore
She shook off my firmly anchored fear
And magically cut the waters clear
Pressed her ear to hear me sway
As bit by bit, I faded away
Then she spun in a graceful sudden dance
And carried me away in rising romance
And I, the steadiest ship on the shores
Looked right in her eye, in shaken remorse
Of the agonizing wait, of drunken denial
That her hands will touch mine, no more while
Howling my name and colouring the wind
She clung on to me, the love-struck fiend!
With restless passion she ebbed and rose
Holding my head to her heart up close
I held her back and grabbed her hair
But melted and sank in her lustful stare
I struggled to breathe, to resist her charms
And surrendered in her loving arms
That stormy night of endless autumn
When she kissed my lips to make us one
I, the steadiest ship on the shore
That stormy night, remained no more

Strike on …

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Human effort and endurance extend the peripheries of possibility to accomplish a single self seeking but honorable goal – to draw out one’s own truth in a world replete of pretense, well-trodden paths and material riches. The effort is overbearing and extreme, the end is unsure and the prize may be unjust and thwarting. But it is adorned with one glorious jewel – the victorious I. It is for the primal pine of that vain victory and expression of individuality that man chooses to strike on in an unfair world.

 

Strike on child of ego altima

Strike on with the force of your yearn

Claim your life and claim your soul

And strike on lest you watch them burn

 Strike on to free your caged soul

From the furnace for a moment breathed

A sniff of air with the head held high

Is worthier than grandeurs bequeathed

No actions pure, no actions real

In this infernal ring of lies

As one man’s hammer is another’s anvil

And a deceit wins when another dies

Stop not for the muscle tear

Deny the loss of blood and hope

Count it out and sing along

Unchain yourself, loosen the rope

Strike on till you find your own self

And carve your own fulfilling mould

Raise your hammer at the glory hour

When black outshines inglorious gold

 

Photo Credits – My friend Arpan, captured this intense moment in his camera (Follow more of his awesome work at Humangrafie, where he tries to understand the human kind through his lens).

Veni Vedi Vicit

I counted beats on the window pane
And it struck me when she tiptoed in
Did raindrops really match her cue?
And drum a beat in the deafening din

I wondered why the light was low
Notwithstanding, her face did glow
Moonlight, though, needs stars to live
Did Stardust set her grace aflow?

No more was the crowd of sullen folks
A harrowing banter of soulless blokes
As they vaporized and vanished by one
For each she chuckled at my jokes

The last did go at the stroke of eight
I held her hand to make her wait
But she left my heart to fonder grow
Destiny prolonged for a later date

The more I quered and pondered
The more my heart and mind concurred
“Veni, vedi, vicit”, this time
I came, I saw, She conquered