Wander-lost

Fighting for the cause of freedom, I want to carry on but there's only shadow
Wanting to give meaning to my life, I want to create but the mind is too narrow
Taking the flight of fantasy, I want to fly but the sky seems too shallow
I aspire to concentrate like Arjun, but I have lost the eye of the sparrow

.....

Poetry in Lotion

To Dreams-

"Dream on, guys" I say
"Come on, guys" I plead
Doesn't matter you fail
No big deal you succeed
Forget all want, forget what you need
Just water the plant, just plant the seed
No point in to follow when you are born to lead
Dream on guys I say Come on guys I plead


Absurdity at a glance-

Its been a day of fulfillment,
Its been a day of outcry,
Its been part silly, its been part sly,
Few things to confirm, most to deny,
When ground is a surety, why always sky,
Why always revolt, why not comply,
when there's nothing to hide why do they spy
kul mila ke chaploosi ka zamana hai Bhai.


To LOVE-
With an instant charm she had arrived
With a lasting calm she was to strive
with flair she knocked, with words she described
with imagination she flamed, with aura she framed
with elagance she attacked, with beauty she claimed
now that she's gone not sure who is to be blamed


.

Urge

Once again did speak, the urge

Will you follow me or will go merge?

Hey, lonely roads also pave for surge

Listen, hunger, too,is an option when all go splurge

Knee jerk may not be better than a nudge

Honey, just follow me and to hell with all who judge

P.S.-what if the urge is CHAOS???? As GG, my split-soul would say "God, save Thy Krrist"

Drowning of a Dream

With every setback arises a new challenge, begets a new dream. With every loss a dream is shattered, with every defeat a new dream afloats. He could have been better its the dream who did him in. He's been a loser yet its the dream that strengthens him. Life is a dream-full of dreams-good dreams, silly dreams, short dreams, not so hot dreams.

The amusing thing about dreams is, even while dreaming one is unsure of its attainability-one's own ability, its susceptibility-one's own vulnerability. One just goes on dreaming and dreaming. Even at the hindsight, there may be ifs and buts but there is never a single entity to blame-neither the dreamer nor those part of the dream nor even the dream. All his life he dreamed sweet dreams, pure dreams, long dreams but the ones that required inclusion of others-be it for sanction, be it for celebration. The more he tried the more he failed.

"Should one, then, dream within the boundary of reason and means only?" he is pondering.

A things that reasons itself out with immediate surrounding, he doesn't consider a dream. Its a settlement, an adjustment. a process oriented approach that may keep one busy but not a dream. A dream is dream first, reasoning later-limitless, borderless, adamant yet afresh, helpless yet uplifting, hurt but full of heart, dying yet flying-that's what a dream is to him.

It was neither rational nor in his means when he dreamed his dream but such insisting was his dream, it made him adamant. He would reason with situations, argue with people but always in favor of his dream. Some would relent, some would appreciate, most would harp, most would discourage. He cared for none, neither relations nor career, just his dream. After all, that was what a dream to him.

The ordeal had started much before he took his dream train yet he boarded it with aplomb. There was shine in his eyes, there was unyielding will to cross the final frontier and he never thought for a moment of failure and options thereafter. So naive was him, so unrelenting this world. And so deeply was he absorbed in his space, neither comfort nor majority mattered to him.

But as it happens mostly, just when he was almost there, just when he progenated his first prototype, demons of past would haunt him. Just when he was so close, he was overwhelmed. It was usual of him-his unpreparedness to accept the eternal longing whenever it knocked on his door. Whether it was love, whether his dream-he would get chocked in the final moments. The dream he had drowned in the same ocean he fought all life, the sea of circumstances, social norms, oddity. He knew all along he would have to reason-with people, with means, with fate, with system-everything that would give the final acknowledgement to his being. And he readied himself hard, too, but just when it was the time, just when his nerves needed to be held-he backed out. A stream of vague idealism had engulfed him-it was lying dormant all along but just when was required for it to sleep one more night, it roared furiously. It decimated everything that came its way but there came nothing except the infantile dream.

Is he hurt then? Yes but not for him, for his dream. After all, it was the dream that gave him the time of his life. There is never a failed dream nor a failed dreamer, there is mixed past and there is a missed tomorrow. He had betrayed his past and he killed his tomorrow. But such is ,usually, the fate of a wild chase.

It's been months now since the fiasco and he's wondering at the entire episode. An epic that was to be and that took six long and most important years in the making, had ended in a thunderous disaster. All these while he is trying to curb every urge to look ahead so close, after all, was his dream to him. With every 'what next?' there is a 'but why?' and 'for whom?'.

Those dreams are all drowned

Those eyebrows are all frowned,

He ,too, would've been crowned,

But the naivety would surround

From 'within' always came a sound

But it never yielded a penny forget about pound

He aimed for the sky that was not to be found

And he fought and lost all along the ground

Hearts break, dreams drown, people fail, men die, people try but such is life none bothers.

The Crop

Today I went to the field,

Today I missed the park;

Today the crop is dry,

Today things are dark;

Last year I was on a high,

Last year the crop was smart;

Today the crop did not exalt,

Today my life is on a halt;

Today I went to the field,

Today I missed the park;

A crop needs water, a spirit some fuel,

But God is thirsty but man is too cruel;

Today the crop is crying,

Today God is denying;

Today the man is flying,

Today the man is dying

Today I went to the field,

Today I missed the park;

A crop is a baby, a man a boy,

Today baby is hungry, today man is on ploy;

Today man is betraying the land,

Today man is suffering no end;

Today the man has hopes ,

But today the man lacks spark

Today the crop is dry

Today everything is dark.

The Human River

see in fullsize here

Hope has all gone and no clue of pride.

Fuck you bitch you humped when I cried.

Dreams seems done and energy all dried.

And the mind mocks the heart for all it tried.

No where to run and nothing much to hide.

The night is dark but will pave for open sky.

TO HELL WITH YOU SHAM, TO HELL WITH YOU SLY

This is Human River it will never run dry.