Rhyme

So many things happening at the same time. Simultaneously. The fear of calmness and randomness. Of loud noises. That no one likes to hear. Tick- tock. Peek pock. Block moving and sliding. Rock hurled at you. Failure that likes to mock. Everything is a state of shock. Or maybe sleeping. Key of a disowned lock. ‘Happyness’ in pursuit. That kid without a boot. Rough and injured foot. A man in collar again made a loot. Maybe this world needs reboot. Damn, that insect rotting my fruit. The gang even ate the root. Killing innocent they are so brute. Frustration chokes me all around. Standing here, I just keep watching this fiasco in despair. Playing along often in doubt, not wanting to be the odd one out. Out, again he goes duck. No this isnt luck. He is failure. He is normal. While the other he. He knows no shit. Still he sits there. No, he is not merited. Everything he has inherited. Programmed, his image is edited. But some worship like he is God. Wake up, this is all fraud. Politicians, making confusion. That system is complete illusion. Policies, progress and service is what should be. But religion is what will always be. That has been. That will shape the government. Those office of power and authority. For them religion is priority. Drafted, crafted and everything is just a picture. That looks vivid, bright and smooth on the surface. Look beneath, its a harrowing mess. What ideology do we breed. No we are not freed. That seed, to the soil they feed. Trust me its weed. Weed that slips us to unconsciousness. Without any harness. No stairs to climb up that well, which is so unwell. It smells of pollution and stagnant air. No freedom, fragrance and light to bath. Used to all this spontaneity. Devoid of magic and miracle. I fear the path ahead. Always I knew. Utopia were never true.

A Vulnerable Void

I miss peace, love and that sumptuous monotonicity. Winter sunlight breaking through the windowpane and bathing all tiny dust particles to glitter like gold. Salty breeze on the beach. Those interstices I used to make, to think of all the unnecessary things. Nostalgia deep enough to make my heart skip a beat. Looking at the wall and keep looking at it until the tick-tock of the clock is the only sound I could hear. Smiling and then thinking of all the reasons to justify that smile. Reading a chapter from my favourite novel, then waiting. A sensation that could make my eyes sparkle with anticipation which keeps growing wild with each passing second. Playing with my heartbeat like the strings of a guitar, and thinking of suspense while savouring each breath with a thrill. I miss, a more million things. I miss peace. Maybe I miss slowness and steadiness.

A Web Of Being

I have a mile to walk,
Brain bursting in rain.
Osmosis or just cloud,
Shrieking, thudding then panting,
Isnt everything so loud.

Wild eyes that feed,
On nothing, but desire, that is greed.
I have lands to conquer,
And not rule.

Hearts I should win,
But never order.
Breakdowns to weep,
And more victories I can sweep.

I have nights to sleep.
More living awake,
For hormones’ sake.
Pleasures to plunder, feelings to surrender.

Shoes, I have to wear.
Torn, tired, tiny, terrific or trailing.
Crippled but can fly,
All life, there is to try.

I have miles to walk,
Some silent, some crescendo of talk.
Gods to be heard,
Reasons to be unearthed.

Beyond the island and sea,
I want to grow old, under that tree.
In fear, oblivion, bare but no shame,
Here, nothing is a game.

I have miles to walk. Cities to live.
Galleries to watch. Balconies for light.
And trees to talk. Follies I can mock.
Floating when I fall,
Colossal, I stand tall.
Mountains I need climbing,
Falls preceeding somersaults,
Cry, to resurrect and try.
Prays that will be remembered, always.
Cocoons to break,
Cocophanies not to be listened.

I have a mile to walk.
And a billion things to be.

In loop listening to those stories,
Lost in labyrinth of libraries.
Dead and lost words, I should meet,
Miles on my feet,
And a mile on my feet.

Prays and Praise.

To all the prayers that went unanswered. All locks that have rusted. And keys lost or broken. Some keys that will twist and turn but not unlock the lock. Waves and clouds of prayers and wishes that have rebounded. And burst in air like they carried no magnitude and strength. Wisp of smoke floating and hovering. To false hopes and befooling your heart.

I pray to the Almighty that all your dreams and wishes come true someday.

#prays

#wishes #god #hope #love

Abstract Fear

​
​

Often, we get so zealous and swayed by the fancy, the colourful and bright.   

Beneath it we fail in seeing that hideous sight.

                                

Those been abstract become lively and fanatic.

The hues on palette telling stories dramatic.               
Serenity or sound soothes nerves, veins and all things biology.

Some perceive as disorder with no acology.
This all triggers in motion my eternal dreams,

Conscience whirling in and out of the cyclone that screams.

Musical crescendo that makes the body go shiver,

Sweet and warm like the onset of fever.
Heart wrenching mechanics of the rhythmic rain,

Sweating, soaking, splashing and rebounding off my windowpane.
It feels fearful, so dull and agonizing.

Yet, why so irresistible is the relation with all things its comprising.
An astounding release of nostalgia hormone,

Sinking, drowing, and soaring sensation to which I am prone.

Heavenly smell that hits to pierce in my heart, just like a game of dart.
It’s then I live eternity in a second,

Unexplainable feelings, my soul can’t comprehend.
A fear grips all over again,

Cages my freedom. Puts my legs to chain.
It binds, controls, traps and puts everything on hold.

Experienced a million times, it’s yet not old.

As I write, it again comes near,

Charming and dear, my abstract fear.

Illumi-nation

Picture Source : Google

​
There is light because there was darkness. Darkness of despair. Of pain. Of struggle. Of apathy. Of destruction and heart pinching blindness. With no dreams. And no desires.

When reacheth the light, it lits that space and all around it. Beyond it. But beyond that. There is still darkness. Pitch black. Dreary and daunty. It can swallow you up. The might aura of it deters even the mightiest. But then cometh the light with colours that illuminates everything. Every particle. Nook and cranny. Pebble and mountain. You may reach there first. But when I will come, I will come with my light so powerful that it will blind you and your darkness. 

There is light in all of us. And it’s powerful beyond our own imagination.

A Frozen Fallacy

​

Religion is not what name you inherited from your family. Rather, it is a set of idealistic rules, if followed properly and diligently will make your existence here on Earth easy and meaningful.
Well, this religion I am talking about is of peace and patience, not orthodoxy, lunacy or hyporcisy.
Religion is to life. What exercise is to daily life. Like counterpart.

Exercising ( Calisthenics ) everyday makes your body fit, agile, healthy, flexible and thereby leading to all around gross motor development of your mind, body and soul.

It enhances your ability to think, analyse, conclude and have rationalistic approach towards anything that is devoid of basic logical essence. But only if practised and performed in the correct dimension and manner.

Just imagine two people ‘A’ and ‘B’ open a youtube video about 11 steps on how to perform perfect crunches. ‘A’ gets the process correct, understands and comprehends the video positive. He starts doing it everyday. Two weeks later, ‘A’ is doing good. His tummy has now reduced, he has achieved a flexible body and has encountered several other benefits.
Well, sadly ‘B’ on the other hand after watching the same video. Could not understand and acknowledge the basics steps to perform it. He could not grasp in the simple technique. He improvised. Started doing it his own way. He comprehended it negative.
Two weeks later, the guy is suffering from stomach ache, back pain, and has created chaos all around him. And he won’t agree that there is anything wrong with his way of crunches. When in fact, what he was doing was not even crunches. But he is adamant even today that he is doing it perfectly.

He was doing something entirely different in his abstract world having an impact all around him.

Tedious story? But that’s what religion is like. I wrote this whole thing because I read a comment by someone named Poornima Hazare on social media specifically saying, ” All muslim are terrorists”.

No. All muslims are ‘A’. Terrorists are ‘B’. They aint following Islam. They aint Muslims. ‘B’ does not know what Islam is.
Quran: Verse 5:32 says.

“…Whosoever killeth a human being.. it shall be as if he had killed all mankind, and whoso saveth the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of all mankind…”

Did you know?

Arthur Galston an American Botanist produced Triidobenzoic acid (TIBA), a hormone that sped up the flowering of soyabeans but would defoliate them in higher concentrations.
He synthesized it for the betterment of Humans.

The same exact thing was later on used as Agent Orange to destroy enemy crops in Vietnam during Vietnam war. He wanted to spread happiness. But people. Exactly my point. Think and you will understand what I am trying to say.

I hope you will register this positive.​

Immortal Stars

A pair of starry eyes watching dreams,

Bisecting barriers and a billion brightened beams.

Still gazing down, there rests the crown.

An innocent head flooding with the little known history,

Mind making a metaphorically miraculous mystery.

Spilling the head out on paper when no one listened,

A new nest nurtured for each disaster that happened.

The heart thumping, stuttering and beating,

Nerves flowing with joy, in a chorus singing.

The smooth, sugar-coated surface everyone knew,

Still, the lie lurking beneath was true.

#SelfPortrait

Caressing Cages !

These ain’t impregnable barriers. Not Inescapable. We just assume that they take us, wound us in and try to burn our home and habitat. Showing us no light and making our world bleak and barren. All we need is to find a torch that can swallow this darkness. A torch like any heavenly sceptre. And that torch is all of us together.

​#BirdsInBlunder

A Book Of Life

A colossal book of blank pages,In making but been many places.

Tattered parchment in dingy ghetto yet a stellar,

It’s coming, a to be bestseller !