Change is like …

“Change is like the water slipping in through the tunnels to the fields, without change there ain’t going to be any harvest!”

Categories: change, life, politics,justice,society,corruption,women, the mind | 23 Comments

Wish For A shadow

Please don’t utter the word love,

It is not meant to be, love is too little, too vague, too monotonous a word for me,

I seek to understand what the heart wants, but fail abysmally as a cold noise fogs my mind,caging my senses

I want us to be free, but I know there is no us,as you are gone, you were never there,

But your shadow brightened the moor,

And I could almost paint an illusion on that drought of life, on the cracked earth,

I dreamt of a meadow, the air breathed life,as wafted your charm awakening my senses,

On the green green grass lay you and I, I and your shadow, And I made love to your soul,

I recited to you a fable of a little girl lost in the meadows,

She wandered, escaping from the ghosts that haunted her home amidst the dark forest,

She found sheep, but she found a soft comfort in the paws of the wolf,

Kindness in his eyes, a warmth penetrated her lost soul,

And then your rare sudden gay laughter, blowing with the breeze,a touch of solace to my soul,

Today I run on the barren land, towards or away, both or neither,

Do I search, do I follow, do I trust my foolish heart, Or do I buy my mind’s sadist rationale?

The harsh winds sting my eyes, tears escape finding their phony mates, to escape unseen is a trick,

I almost welcome the dulling pain succumbing to numbness, but the end, is it here?

I can’t see, but I sense a grim loss settling in on the night, the stars seem too far,

And none twinkling as if to smile, The moon has been hiding far too long,

And the clouds are beginning to invade the sky,

And I have been waiting beneath the darkness, nothingness, to catch a glimpse of the shadow,

But it flitted away before I could see the end, before I could see the darkness,

I want to ask you,

who is the lucky lass who holds your soul in a rapture?

Will you forget me? Has your heart already dusted off my words?

Was the shadow never there? Was it a story I told only the little girl as she lay with me in my solitude?

Were you me?

Did the shadow only fool me, masking itself with your beautiful face,

And were you alive only in the frills of my mind?

Or was the shadow only ever a shadow, never our friend?

There is wish, there is hope, there is want, and none is the other,

You are my wish, as I feel no hope, and I want no rose.

Only a true shadow of friendship that binds you and me,

Coaxing the little girl lovingly to keep wandering in the meadows, away from the house of haunting screeches.


-Musings of a little Girl and a foolish heart

Categories: poetry, poetry on life | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Short Angry Rant( human rights)

At the risk of sounding radical..well h*** yeah, I will be radical.To anybody who hints at human rights for terrorists, please surrender yourself to them, the terrorists,since you are so overflowing with humanity, you could save a few lives, as those “I don’t know have words for them” will have other lives at their disposal.

And yeah do define human for us, your unintelligent counterparts, before you bring out your memorandum of rights. I apologise, I belong to country of Gandhi but I am hopelessly incapable of digesting and inculcating his ideologies.I am just suddenly reminded of Jalianwala Bagh incident. The difference between then and now is the cause for the brutality.

India has borne the brunt of terror since years and I have been hearing and reading about for as long as I can remember.  I am not sure if there is any cure for evil, evil that exists for the sake of being evil, except to say, crush it. How? I don’t know. And what does that make us? Is our cause for brutality justified? yes it is, without second thoughts, yes, it is.

A poem I had written quite a while ago, I find it quite relevant to what I feel again today.

Mutation Beyond Recognition

The heart screams out,

It screams and dies a death every time,

Every time a daughter is raped by her dad,

A son is beaten and his dignity stolen and shred to pieces,

Sometimes seeing in print, sometimes seeing the devastation after in being,

From one animal to another, have we gone beyond being an animal?

Sunk lower than the lowest ones,

Have our thoughts become mutated?

Mutated beyond recognition and resurrection?

Section so and so, section so and so, out comes the law book,

A book scripted to bench the crime, not do away with it,

A law book scripted to give benefits of doubt,

Find evidence, find evidence, I must be followed, It says,

For I am the sole way out you see, I am irreplaceable,

You have endowed me with powers and now I overpower you,

Laws of nature, Is its original copy unedited, missing a section?

Or has it been muddled up and left with gaping loop holes,

A sight being replayed since the time of our epics,

When the court of books and all the noble souls stood watching,

Noble dastardly souls, with immense courage to stand by their laws,

But not an ounce of it to stand for humanity, overpowered they were you see,

As the laws rip apart a world it had tried to make human,

Today we meekly stand and see the grave yard expanding,

Graveyard of pained souls, Graveyard of revengeful spirits,

All awaiting their turn to return, sharpening their canines to tear and masticate the demons,

But alas, No urban law, no International court of justice to push back and curb this expansion and invasion!

Have we no way to heal the wounds? No way to pulverize the mansion of evil?

No way to grind it to minuscule particles?

I envision a momentous win when these particles would have no nucleus,

No polarity to reform,

No limbs to capture what belonged to our humankind.

Categories: human rights, life, poetry, terrorism | Tags: , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Lost In The Man

I have always believed that we make our own choices, we have the sole owner of our lives yet each person we come across plays a role in our lives, however small or pivotal maybe. We might not realize or see the part that someone played in that moment but later when you look back and connect the dots it fits, they were there for reason,the tangential moments too mattered.

Lost In The Man

Years ago, when the heart was frail,

When ripe innocence had been pushed to the edge, and was withering,

Was swaying at the edge of the wuthering cliff, staring down, eyes brimming with silent tears of dread,

Or was the heart, already falling, clutching on to the ghost of the soul that stood there once,

It was then, that I saw a man, I saw his eyes,

He wasn’t of this world;

Eyes and lips speak tongues of their own,

Doors behind those blackened eyes were shut,

And yet I could see a soul in them, they spoke yet they said not a word,

In whispers howled the eyes stories afloat in the winds,

Revealing the allusion of silent secrets only heart shared with the mind,

The wholeness of his laughter, candid eyes that crinkled as they smiled,

An imprint, a memory, many a time casting a glow of hope over the shadows of my soul,

Days went by, and each glimpse tugged the heart,

The man, an image of a warrior of life,

Heart the curious master wondered of the words that decked those dense lashes,

When eyes met for fleeting moments, the soul flushed, blushed, glowered, aware of its captivation,

Time- life’s spindle, Years later I found him at the cross roads,

The eyes had deepened, blatant debauchery to my soul,

The smile frolic my senses to this day,

However as paths of eerie woods of my life lead me astray,

A few glimpses, few words, but not enough, only a peek into that intriguing mind,

As I lay on the cold marble, lost, reminiscing life’s addiction to amending itself each dwindling moment,

I wonder if he might trot on this path just a little longer,

A little longer could the spindle roll steady, our moments fading parallel to the others image,

Could destiny if real match my heart beat, only for a few more fleeting moments?

Then my life could brush past his, and I would be in his story, and he in mine.

And I might just tell you another story of him, a few years from now.

Categories: life, memories, poetry | Tags: , , , | 6 Comments

Crumbs of Purpose

I would rather not say anything at all,

Lest the conspiracy devils heard the sounds of my wishful thinking,

My hopes, my dreams and turned them against me,

Demons of time, planning coincidences to thwart my advances,

Fogging my path, misleading me into taking the wrong turn,

Failing to capture the moments as I get lost in the petty traps laid out for my human heart,

Nowadays words dim the fervour,

I would rather let the words breathe fire, keep the pyre of passions burning,

A face, eyes of a free man that hold the mind in a rapture,

Musical trance as strings of strange likeness keep strumming,

Standing at the edge, there is that one spot in the woods that the heart wants to find,

But more than ever it desires to run wild through the woods,

As its dimly lit mysteries beckon the soul, whisper enticingly to the it,

Life is purposeless, yet with the illusion of purpose the soul lives on,

Purpose, aah I would rather not speak of  mine, risky, I mutter to my own soul,

Purpose, crumbs of life long struggles,sufferings, leading to moments of euphoria,

I pick them up, I drop a few blinded by the sudden darkness, I find the lost then I find pieces anew,

I ask myself, can another trample my crumbs, soul only friend smiles,”Only you can see them,my sweet”

Someday the crumbs will feed my hungry heart with moments of triumph,

A day sooner, darkness will rise to be my ally, and it will invite the light,

One day the soul will recite the mysteries of that beyond good and evil,

Someday the purpose will be whole,

It will hum a lovely tune, no lamentations, with its head held high on my grave,

But today I will speak of them only to my loyal friend,my soul, my avenger, my only friend.

Categories: life | 6 Comments

Some Words

pranita patra:

I have been offline for a while.. though writing. Hence I thought I would just share a poem from one of my quite recent posts.. A sunnier one than usual:)

Originally posted on Thoughts:

Some words soothe your seething wounds,

Some words rupture the clinched flesh of a healing scar,

Some words hold your heart in a rapture of serenity,

Almost as though the stillness might pervade forever,

Some words make the heart shrink,

 Knees touch the forehead as arms cross over,

The head bends hoping to find a cave to hide in the soul

 Clinging to the sound of bitter sorrow,

Some words written in parchment by the smiles of strangers,

You can read them almost like you can taste the drink you might share with them,

Some words erupt from the eyes, as though frosted breath misting the air,

They emerge from the shadowy corners,

Waiting and wishing for some one to lend them a melody,

Pen them a song that synch with the jingles and chimes,

Whines and sultry whispers of a soul shy yet wishful of being heard,

Some words…

View original 335 more words

Categories: life | 3 Comments

Hollow Man against The Wild Woman

Oh my manly dear hollow man,

My virginity; was it my making or your discovery and hence engraved on you is the will to posses?

Who defined purity, innocence, your god?

When did you learn to hammer into pieces and slice through virgin layers?

You were born as nude as I,

You were born as lowly as I,

We evolved and got through Darwin’s test together,

Was I asked to enslave myself to your ways by your kind?

Did you threaten to pierce though my flesh and make me dance to your tunes then too?

How did the will to trap the woman rise?

Your passions were matched by hers, her intellect by yours or maybe she surpassed you in all arenas?

Is that it, tangled within her powerful yet primal soul; gnawed the demon at your peripheral sanity and sparked the need to subdued, to display your power?

You defined her first, and you trapped her in a form,

Then you cusped her being, the wild fire that kindled, in a jar brimming with your desires,

Incapable of the realization, or maybe fearful of the same,

The realization that defining a wild woman, the breath of nature, was to curb what she could be,

If trapping her in your narcissistic distasteful ways weren’t enough, you try since centuries to shatter her,

To make her succumb to her own forcefully woven mindlessness, to make her hate herself,

Then you take away what you have thrusted at her, her fake sense of dignity, dignity through eyes of your barbarous gruesome world,

Masticating her physical being, slicing and scarring her soul,

Yet this world breathes, as she breathes, as nature breathes, as a wild fire is bestowed with nature’s zeal,

As harsh winds blow, it lights by itself, setting the civilization on fire,

Man shall bear the brunt of his atrocities and his shrieks shall resound and fill the forest,

Can his pleas and screams mask the hoarse voice of her agonized soul, can they melt her scars?

Ages to come shall tell that story, but a woman shan’t ever serveth the hollow man’s will, surrender to his beastly command or the whip of his brutish acts.

P.S-Writing after long!

This is a poem born out of anger against all the atrocities against women, the subjugation, the do’s and don’t’s , the definitions of a woman, all that I have seen and felt in my life and in the lives of those around me and those I have heard of. The repulsive devils and even the milder sadistic fools are just everywhere. I seek to understand evil but it just leaves me aghast, I don’t understand its epicentre, its reason for existence.

Categories: feminism, life, poetry | Tags: , , , , , | 5 Comments

Love attains Love

Does love change?

Does it change, as one gets to know another?

Does it die, metamorphosize into a darker twisted need?

Or does it just hide behind, become comfortable in the shadows of doubt, impaired by limitations,

Flagged by certain follies engraved in the mind as so, justifications to rationalise love,

 Defining a notion curbs it, iron bars rise around the sensation, caging it, a morbid situation,

Love can’t attain love,

 The ride through pathless woods, the hunger for a invigorating adventure to nowhere,

Fervour dims as definitions, laws and rules carve paths clogging love at the gates of its own haven,

But is love pure, what is pure?

Is love innocent, what is innocent in the mind of a primal animal?

In a hunt for a void that fills another void, does love dip below the horizon?

Is it all only an illusion? The pain, the prickle, the thorns that prick the rosy flushed flesh from within,

Screaming for attention, for a touch caressing the starved being,

As the dark twin within each surfaces, does love leave the light,

Or does it keep burning, fostering on the lips, in the eyes, in the warmth of flesh?

 

As riders wander away from each other, does the love stagnate, burn out,  the pyre go cold?

Or does it burn lightly, smoke rising and the light of love filling a den,

It flickers, the shadows on the walls change, it changes but never does it wither away into mere nothing,

Does love borrow a mask that makes it unrecognisable , lost in the riff raff of many a masked users of this soul,  

Masks lend to us, then self imposed by us, the caricatures we sketch of our hypocritical ideologies,

I peek through my mask,

Did I love you then? Do I love you now?

Will you take off your mask, understanding and seeing my weakness that pushes me to forge mine,

Unlearn the meanings of purity, innocence and love too,

Letting love attain love,

And just let me caress you with my sensations for a few moments, unmarked by clicks of a clock, stretched in time?

 

 

 

Categories: life | 8 Comments

Random

DSC_0377

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Some Words

Some words soothe your seething wounds,

Some words rupture the clinched flesh of a healing scar,

Some words hold your heart in a rapture of serenity,

Almost as though the stillness might pervade forever,

Some words make the heart shrink,

 Knees touch the forehead as arms cross over,

The head bends hoping to find a cave to hide in the soul

 Clinging to the sound of bitter sorrow,

Some words written in parchment by the smiles of strangers,

You can read them almost like you can taste the drink you might share with them,

Some words erupt from the eyes, as though frosted breath misting the air,

They emerge from the shadowy corners,

Waiting and wishing for some one to lend them a melody,

Pen them a song that synch with the jingles and chimes,

Whines and sultry whispers of a soul shy yet wishful of being heard,

Some words echo in the silence of many a men,

Awaiting to be rendered a voice of hope,

Some words float in the lonely gaze of the child,

He bends over the fence by the river, by the fields,

Staring with eyes wide gloomed with confusion, questioning the ways of the world,

They drift through the winds and tell you a story that sinks into the soul,

Some words, are heard floating,

Twirling on the leaves that brushed past them,

The quivering smile of a maiden,

The fluttering shifty eyes of a wishful lover,

Some words cast a sheath of warm love,

Like a dove bringing a letter from a long lost friend, a mate

Some words the shepherd murmurs as he lies stretched on the grass, watching his sheep graze,

 Yet speaking of his secrets to the trees and mountains where is home and heart reside,

Some words from the wise eyes of the wrinkled old lady,

She sits on the bench under the trees at sunrise,

On many a day till the dusk sets, seeing the world drift past her each moment,

 Moaning and smiling, reminiscing as she opens doors to her many memories,

Some words shared with the mighty sky,

The clouds, as the girl stands in the rain,

 Drops splashing down her sweet face,

Blending with her tears, carrying her melancholy to the seas,

Some Words one can hear like the kiss of the wind that blows past on a winter morning,

Words of your own soul

The world has much to say, the sound of nature has a song for the ears that find way to the heart,

A song of all the love that rises, wanting to be captured and bred in a man’s soul,

And vanishes with the dried leaves buried under the earth,

And yet is born again from the tress that give us shade,

These, some words are sketched, given life in the lullabies,

 Living and dancing off the lines spoken by the poet in the man’s soul.

Categories: life | 6 Comments

To Dad

To that man who gave me a breath of life and chance at greatness, a name to uphold myself to,

Gifted me a torch of hope so that I could crawl, walk, stumble, and run,

To the man who showed me the mirror, spoke words that stung but woke me from my reverie,

The man who lit a fire in my heart, every time I doused it with my petty pity towards my very docile pathetic self,

A man who built an empire for family, friends such that they could rise and rule their own kingdoms,

A man who hath not a fear, nor sacrilegious wish or profane thought for another being,

A man who never doth a wrong that crumbled another’s dream, wrecked another’s castle,

A man who taught me that world is beautiful, ugly, its what you see, and what you make that makes the world what it is,

A man who taught me to be a teacher, to see a teacher in every morsel of life,

To see light in every dark corner of life,

To see and admire the candle which burnt in each one’s heart and not the shadow the candle cast,

To learn from each moment spend with myself or with another,

To understand justice, liberty, rights and freedom ,

Each is a human first, respect that human essence, each one of us is an equal,

No matter what we do and how we think, we have our own stories,

Live those stories as you listen to them so that you understand the man as a human first,

And pain, soothe it with words of kindness and strength not sympathy for the being,

And my own pain, Compelling me invisibly to curb it and use it to find my strength and crippling my weakness,

When my senses and power seemed to be slip from my grip, a blanket of helplessness settling over,

Your face that shines with courage, love, hope and will, your words that reflect your belief propelled me from my well against the gravity of circumstances,

I sinew myself, find that ferocious angel in myself, an angel eager to rise up and cast a spell of her own,

Its all in your mind he said, Do so well that no one can ignore you,

Your dreams and ambitions make you, never loose them, hold them to heart like you would hold your child,

Never forget who you are, that is a free strong soul, a human capable of infinite,

The man who fuelled my ambitions and dreams with words of challenge,

With words that are engraved in my mind and I shall remember forever till my time comes to an end,

Testing my mettle and willing me to rise and prove to myself and those who thought me incapable,

A man who lives a life so true, so magnanimous, yet for others,

Can I ever be anything like that man, No, even if I lived as long as he will, I couldn’t

I could only learn, be bedazzled, inspired and be fortunate to be challenged,

To my dad, there is much more to say, words seem to defy my command as I ask them to express my love, my gratitude, my sense of deep and immense honour to be born into your arms on your doorstep.

I love you dad.

P.S-A few words left unsaid

Categories: life | 5 Comments

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