society

Triumph over self.. 

The parchment and the blank space shall absorb all my postulated negativity..

And the smears of hope… Maybe it shall sing me a new song..anew answer..

With such an endeavoring wish tucked in my self.. Proceed I..

And smother I, it with my blunt words and purposeless thoughts..

 

Have I everything I need? And what is it I need and for what?

Have the people I love been cajoled yet? Cajoled by the time spent to stay on..

Why is acceptance a need, a need- so very binding?

Oh my… what if she gets what could be mine…

what if he takes away the spoon that could be mine..

To what end must it serve? to what end does need serve?

To need is to survive and to survive is to need, ain’t it?

Is what I own in me.. a shadow of what the other own?

Ought I to be better and different?

 

Is my ego to be grow on hedges and fence my crisscross ways?

Or must it slumber below..knead itself?

Has my own shadow darkened by heart?

Must my reflection in the eyes of the world be firmer…

Be colored in ways my self has not encapsulated…

Am I to be a master of my ego.. Or am I to be a servant?

To master it, ain’t it the same as to serve it?

Must I hide my faults.. must I smuggle the protruding black jewels into a dark corner..

Or must I smack it with laughter..

 

Why is beauty so well carved by symmetrical terms..

by eyes serving the proposed norms…

why is beauty such a need.. why is beauty so well sculpted in forms so well pruned.

Why must my beauty be compared and scripted and marked..

why must I serve a servitude to these very engraved thoughts…

To needs.. to pertinence with this humming civilization..

 

To be free from self.. free from want.. from desire…

Ohh how sumptuous..how freeing.. how embezzling is the thought of

“triumph over self”..

Ohhh..But how ensnaring to be turning in this cocoon of self..

spiraling..

but to reach no purposeful end.. desiring to be free from self.. and yet reaching nowhere..

 

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, blogging, change, emotions, expressions, feminism, HOPE, humanity, Hypocricy, life, mindset, Moralizing, poetry, poetry on life, questions, society, strength, struggle, the mind, time | 2 Comments

Can one feel what that child does?

Image result for child in war

A child sits amidst the dust, asbestos, rubble

Eyes sunk into self.. yet wide and devoid of the tremors of death brewing within..

To be born into a life wielding no power,

But the love rendered by the womb and palm of the protector..

And at a sudden instant swept into smoke and fire,blood splattered of the power he knew..

Can one feel what that child does? A wait for god he once knew and had..

A shell of dark fear, dread, turmoil, torn life asphyxiates the beating heart…

And child chokes within.. clinging to nothing..

Suffering from plague inflicted by the cacodemons, men on his land..

Their horrendous misogynistic hunger for blithe innocence..

Draining the pulp of life and reveling in the numb pain diffused in the air..

The helios  of hope brutally shred.. flesh from bones..And yet not a tear shed..

For none are left to touch.. none can touch his moment…

 

From my window I see the rays flit through the blinds..

Their intensity simmered by the glass shield..

I see a sight peaceful.. sodden warmth,

The light breeze like music.. as the leaves flutter to its tune..

Sparrows titter.. shuffle between the green symphony..

I hear not… but eyes watch the music..as though notes scripted in the moments..

As though soft silence speaks.. spelling solace and hope..

Almost unreal.. The winds carry not a smear of pain..

The pain for the flow of the nature’s elements is null..

Or maybe it feels pain.. in the bloodied water and coagulate breath.

But not here.. its uncannily calm for a world trifled and drowning in pain..

Its a surreal, eerie balance that soothes not the heart..

Burden of pain outweighs the mass of solace..

 

 

Categories: CHILDREN, darkness, HOPE, human rights, INNOCENCE, life, loss, poetry on life, society, struggle | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Designs by Time- A Maze

Time, It walks as though it hath not a care,

Aloof, dispassionately sauntering, sparing neither a thought for all the desolation, nor the euphoria

Existing all by itself, Thriving in its solitude,

Plotting to cast its well scripted plans onto the void, our world, our lives,

Manifesting illusions, one or multiple for its every click,

We mortals, just mere pawns while it attempts at injecting thrill into it’s veins,

“Oh you epitome of enigmatic existence, why not teach us to live like you?

Maybe it ain’t worth your creative talents, ”

 

A sharp edged hand of a clock, it’s partner in crime,

It plays its part quite beautifully, dexterously,

Digging into the soul’s flesh, Carving out a maze, a unique piece of art,

Maze keeps expanding infinitely in all directions and dimensions,

Invading and capturing the seemingly insurmountable highs and non echoing abyss,

You, my detached mate watch with me the intricately woven designs of your illusions,

Every passing moment absorb the musings of the soul winded in the maze,

Some elated hummings,  some whispers drowning in dread, some lost mutterings of a tipsy lass,

Every click of the clock and scratch of the edge masks the screams and flicks away the tears,

 

Stormy it is,A few marks fade, a few lines blur,

But the hand retraces the trial, else digs and drags crossing to make new paths,

A rendition of mine treads down the old known pathways,

Another struts along the anew one,

Peering ahead, trying to discern unexpected twists, turns and dead ends,

Or misleading ends blurred by fog, Its walls smudged and smeared with just paintings of landscapes beyond,

As though the landscapes are real pathways, not just delusional sights,

 

Inside the maze, one is bound to catch glimpses of oneself, maybe combat the other,

The pawn must face itself, loose itself to seek the truths that haunt and breeze through here,

Despite the unattainable pedestal of truth, the non-existent end one must trudge on if not gallop,

Indulge self in demolishing and resurrecting to find the same and demistify the secrets in here,

One must clutch on to the dagger like hand,

Engage thee, time, while savoring the derisive scars your designs impinge upon us,

While you mock us with your unaffected, disavowed  stature.

Categories: amibiguity, emotions, expressions, life, mindset, places, poetry, poetry on life, silence, society, soul, time | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

To my Dear Sweetheart

To my dear sweetheart,

You are sweet indeed, I am sure, but many a flavor twist and turn your primal taste,

I crave to know your compositions,you are music is uncanny,forever pushing, then swaying me as I stand at the edge,

Are you fickle, or is that just your pretentious sheath, trying to tumble me as I stamp my own feet?

But you are me, why would you do that ?oh my sweetheart, enlighten my being today,

I search your depths, I seek answers from you for the wise old owl you are,

Are you as wise as I make you out to be?  I vouch for you, you know that,

But hope, you haven’t joined hands with a third, ally you think it is?

No my sweet, destiny is elusive, a trap, an ally or foe, I know not,

Colluding with a power above both of us, you and me are one,

We create karma, thy power, my will and trust, but the third animal, hath no stakes in our karma,

Lets not invite or give space to that invader,

As I skim, then scan, then delve deeper harrowing the depths, braving my fears,

Yes,my fears,as I wade through the sand, it all comes together behind me,the sun shines no more,as I lie beneath the desert,

I ask you, what are you capable of? Are you capable of love? Do you understand love?

I ask you, how do you reign you devils, how do you recognize them, how do you accept them for what they are?

I ask you again, love,can you really love another? Or do you seek to only fill the pores, satiate your desires, then call it love,

Don’t you find solitude alluring? Its serene charm awakening voices of truth,

Sounds that were before lost in the cacophony of mindless babbling of a world decked in self made garments of lies,

Adorned by jewels that reflect the masks we put on, the paths we carved for other’s minds,artifacts of our orderly lives,

The white noise dissipates, a foghorn that slowly drives away and silence of solitude permeates,

Yet, you pursue to posses another, You see, having glimpsed your weak spots I try to leash you,

Remind you of the debacle, the toxic potion in the chalice,

That tempts one into loosing any sense of self, stagnating self nourishment,

As I search for the point of equilibrium, It strikes me,

You need, you desire to walk in solitude with another who walks in his own,

To look into the eye and share, yet not own or be owned,

To find solace in your own self yet stroll into the Gardens of your haven holding the hand of another,

Your penchant for purpose and reason commendable,

Yet at times one might find in purposeless journeys ones purpose,

Or if not, you might see sights that enlighten your mind with both anew questions and unwound answers,

My dear sweetheart, my dear soul, I leech onto you,

To shield you lest the treacherous demons of our world wrap you in their claws,

Yet I know, it is you who are my savior, my retreat, my trustworthy ally, my cauldron of strengthening elixir.

Categories: amibiguity, emotions, expressions, life, love, love oneself, mindset, Music, places, poetry, poetry on life, silence, society, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

Scales Of Evolution

balance

Human was not born into this world,

Only evolved from the animals we call beasts today,

Before the evolution tipped the scales,

The seas, the mountains the earth, the petals, the weeds

The shells, the sand, the morsels of life that traversed with the wind,

The earth bubbled in its serene existence with zealous purity,

The purity that a mountain spring sprinkles upon the dwellers,

Flowing sometimes stealthily,

At times flowing with an exuberant force,

Young and vibrant in search of new lands to explore,

All the forms of life, large and dynamic, shrewd and slippery,

Roaring and domineering, small and fastidious,

Lived on these streams, on those springs

They pounded the land when in need,

Their formidable yet magnificent animalistic power shook the earth

But the scales were always left balanced,

Logic, a reason that led to rise of another species,

Nameless multifarious species rather,

This age, Evolution is taking a toll as one species looses itself in a whirlwind of its own creations,

This day, this period of earth’s and its dwellers lives,

The springs, the air, the pure forces of life infected by the viral uproar,

Are drying up, worse corrupting all that it touches,

And vanquishing the purity to graveyards dug by our evolved mindlessness,

Or rather mindfully shrewd actions,

Foolish we are to think our time immortal,

Trapped we are in the science we harrowed out from this earth,

Entangled we are in our own traditions and thoughts,

Thoughts that were led by reason once are today shackled by the lack of it,

As we abhor change, obnoxiously pride ourselves on our social systems,

As we evolve into what evolution had never fathomed possible.

It’s time to rename ourselves,

Unless we let the springs sprinkle us again,

Clean the dirt, the marsh,

We assimilate, we mellow down,

We withdraw and loosen our adamant sense of ownership,

We melt the shackles of power,

Mold the molten steely power into the axe that could bring to surface our former self

Or make it the magical ingredient,

An ingredient added in potions drunk by us to turn into the personification of godliness,

A godliness that is stirred with drops of devil’s blue blood to tip the scale towards a balance.

Let’s reach, let spiral back to the point of incidence of human and beast.

Categories: amibiguity, change, Economic Disparity, education system, emotions, expressions, feminism, Hypocricy, life, life, mindset, Moralizing, poetry, poetry on life, re-birth, re-incarnation, silence, society, soul, the mind | 2 Comments

The Cave of Delirium

The urge to fight evaporates,

Turns to smoke trapped in closed cave

A cave whose walls are impenetrable by another,

Another than the spirit where resides the cave,

Or does the cave host the spirit?

Spirit only an inhabitant, seeking shelter,

Only to end up hostage..

What one makes, one procreates,

It takes over the maker,

Imbibes and savors the power to bind the maker,

Slave it or set it free,

Unless the maker stays the keeper of the cave,

 Standing at edge between the two worlds,

One outside and the other within, a perfect osmosis

It’s a cave of delirium,

The spirit’s exploits and endeavors,

Deeds and misdeeds, take a toll,

Reason and logic, intuition and emotion burn,

diffuse to take a form of their own,

One starts evolving, twisting and turning to define the other,

Playing a game to delude the spirit,

keeping it trapped in the deadly spiral of its own illusions,

Smoke only gets denser,

 As the keeper now shackled in the mid air is choking,

Choking on vapors,

Vapors rising from the fire of its own creation of ruins,

 In its own cacophony, crackling noise,

That deafens it, shoving aside any shadow of sanity,

As the spirit that lit the fire, stares at it delving deep,

Searching for a way out to the other side, outside a hopeful reality,

A moment of epiphany,

The only way out is it to burn in the pier till there isn’t a pier to burn,

The cave of delirium, it holds no ground, burns with the keeper, the spirit

A spirit is immortal; it takes birth from the ashes to reincarnate into another rendition.

Categories: amibiguity, crazy, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, mindset, poetry, poetry on life, re-birth, re-incarnation, silence, society, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ramble on Pathetic Journalism

I am not sure, how this post is going to turn out to be or where it is going to go but it is going to be quite unpoetic I am guessing.

I have been watching lots of movies since the past few weeks, so my mind today was revolving around the lives of actors, how we see them, what do we see them as, how their lives are robbed of privacy and sanity quite often. At the risk of sounding naive, I wondered who was responsible for this and also why the messing up of their lives was such a juicy and happiness inspiring talk for most of us. Yeah, there is the matter about publicity stunts but “dude, get a life”

Then slowly the monkey in my brain jumped to the very often published photos of the actresses when they had an oops dressing moment ( Oops because we have made it oops), known or unknown to them. As though this never happens to any of the people in the real world, Duh. Their cleavage, or a show of her limbs or anything else that is suppose to be bandaged.

Most of us are of the mindset that these women merely exist to entertain us, mostly the ones who are bold and sensual, words which would translate to scantily dressed to much of the crowd. The men, aah the men, men hath no fear, after all the worst could be an unzipped fly in the crowd aside from a morphed/real video tapes of course. And yeah the rest, we have seen it all, its just a part of the scenery, beautiful scenery to be marveled at, those toned muscles and abs, not a truer sign of truer hunk. A hunk that’s all, not a s*** as we call them.

And yeah s***s, You want them, you need them, but you also want to derogate them just to feed your ego, to prove that you are better and almost as though you are doing a sex worker a favor.(yeah right)

To those journalists who earn their living through their gossip and erection inspiring news snippets:-

Do women assets really impact GDP, political affiliations, nuclear wars, poverty? They do pay your living expenses and you pay taxes I am guessing and do the nation a big favor,but really that’s all the journalism you got? Yeah cleavages do generate good amount of money via fashion industry and the film industry and even if I was the worst guesser ever, I would say they and their money pay more taxes than you or your earnings do. The industry has a lot of good perspective to offer too, not all good but quite good.

I get it, you sell what the crowd wants, but don’t you also generate market for the news. The media has great power, just as words do and art does, hence when they sell, they impact. Why feed on a derogatory mindset, when you can change it fellas?

That is because the way people tend to look at actresses, the same carries over to the way they treat or look at women on a day today basis. Of course there are many more factors impacting that outlook apart from the fact their brains are just junk from s*** in the outer space.

The mentioned concern is certainly not a cause of derogatory remarks on women on a day to day basis, but it is what fuels the mindset and the cause. Its a choice between being a part of the change wave that by changing your style and focus or staying on the other side sticking to bad irresponsible journalism, and that’s a choice you guys have to make.

Categories: Economic Disparity, emotions, expressions, feminism, Hypocricy, India, journalism, life, mindset, Moralizing, politics,justice,society,corruption,women, society, teaching | Tags: , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Two wells

Two wells,

One at the north,

The other south,

All that the mind conceives,

Falls or is tossed into one well,

Or the other,

None escape the adamant blackened gravity,

One a well of soulful goodness,

The other a black hole of soulless evil,

The question is to rise above or sink below?

Sink below the goodness,

And drip in delusional godliness?

To rise above the perceived evil,

Or to sink below and beat it at its game?

If hovering over or thrashing around in thy chosen well,

The soul might sink into the well beneath the well too, you see,

And then one becomes the other,

 Havoc inhabits conscience, Thunderous collisions within,

Soul is black or white?

It’s neither, rather just shades of grey,

Among the radiant colors that our eyes want to see,

Shades of grey in layers and patches,

In the end, no, as we spin and re spin

The water in both the wells remains murky if not marshier.

Categories: amibiguity, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, mindset, Moralizing, poetry, poetry on life, silence, society, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , | 7 Comments

Air’s Nemesis

It’s all within one soul

The conscience, the contradictions,

A seed of unknown composition was sown,

Once upon a time, when the air was still,

When it blew unhinged, unsucked by any,

By anything whose existence depended on it,

A minuscule opening inched its way,

And air found its nemesis,

Since then a war waged to fill the balloons,

To form the bubbles,

And from the seed sprouted a forest,

A Jungle, It had it all,

It drew all into its realms,

One evolved into the other,

One towered over the other,

Each fruit spilled its guts into the living blood,

And cut through one whole bubble,

Filling it with strands, dividing it into dens,

Each a den of mashed up ingredients,

Ingredients to be the one and only nemesis,

Some chose the conscience,

Some chose it’s the contradictions within it,

Both are one, both aim for the same,

They live, relive all at once,

Within multiple hosts,

In one black hole,

The soul, the air’s nemesis

Categories: amibiguity, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, mindset, poetry, poetry on life, re-birth, re-incarnation, silence, society, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Galloping Into The Wilderness

Galloping into the wilderness

uncaring for the tall bushes, the thorny branches,

And the twisted creepers along the way

Forging a way to into the world of primal souls,

Souls unbridled , risen out of the glossy plasma,

A maze of rigid structures built on beds of fruits,

Fruits of a mirage encrypted into the thought, culture,

Eyes glowing, a shadow of the fire crackling within

The fire to touch the secrets of the woods,

A free wanderer tears ahead

Perspiring with beads of brazen thrill of wilderness,

Shackle free,

The mind of a woman inhibited evolves to her intrinsic self,

The beauty of dark woods, the shadows, the silhouettes,

The rustling whispers that speak through the silence

A life more alive than the life in a world sketched with lines

A world sketched with just dots and spatters,

And dark patches, More real than the closed well left behind

The moonlight entices the soul,

Drawing out its animal zeal,

The quest to absorb the nature,

Grow with it to knead the fire within,

To live and thrive in its vital form,

In a pack or alone,

Succumbing to the souls yearnings,

Feet reigned by its wildest, merest wishes

Cherishing each emotion,

Savoring the pain of bereftness,

Drowning in the ecstatic high of fulfillment,

Fornicating with every moment of wilderness,

The soul of the woman is set free on an infinite journey

Categories: darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, poetry, poetry on life, silence, society, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

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