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Thursday, August 11, 2016

A STORY - A Narrative Poem

A STORY


Let me tell you a story so great
That you will fall in a sleep sedate.
That you dream of it in your sleep
And you will cherish it with a zeal very steep.

Once upon a time, when the Earth was bright and new
With fresh air, and muscles held with steely sinew.
There lived a boy and a girl, hopelessly in love
They frolicked about a meadow green and mellow.
The boy was suffering, a childhood disease of heart
The girl was suffering, as her love was about to depart.

One dreary morning, with gloomy clouds overhead,
A sudden stroke, a last throb, and the boy dropped dead.
The girl, crying, clutching her head
Gave a heart-rendering cry of grief.
But her love didn't care to hear her plea
Didn't hear her request to come back, and remained dead.

She went mad with grief
She didn't have any relief
She kept bemoaning her beloved
Who left her bereft and unloved.

This unending misery, this heart-wrenching pain
No way out of it, just to carry it without any gain.
No expectations of ever being happy again
And to just live on, trudging along this world so vain.

How do I explain her pain to you
You, who have never experienced something so crude.
Just imagine boiling oil in your eyes and mouth
A red hot iron melting your skin to puddle and froth.
Each day, the pain intensifies, so much that you want to die.

The girl died, couldn't handle the pain anymore
She did believe in an afterlife, a forsaken lore.
What did she want? To meet her lover?
No, you are wrong, she wanted to meet her Creator.
She wanted to ask Him, why so much pain?
What does he like about it, what does he gain?

He didn't have anything to say, not a word
He looked furtive, guilty at having been caught.
He didn't even apologise, just hung his head.
She didn't blame Him, just asked and asked and asked.

At last, He said - pain purifies your soul.
What kind of answer is this? One that is so foul?
He replied simply, that not everyone can be happy
It is the rule, the system, one that is very crappy.

The answer was so absurd, it made her angry.
He said, tried to pacify by saying even He endured pain.
The answer was actually quite simple, said she
He was resentful, hateful, spiteful.
Or else, why would He allow good people to suffer
And the bad ones to thrive, live and prosper?

He denied the accusations vehemently, but
The Rule of the World is this,
The good people have lives short
The bad ones live long and smart.

As she was crying in the Garden of Elysium
Out came her love from one of the villas.
She was ecstatic to behold him
To have come to meet him over the vistas.

He asked why she was so sad,
Has the world to her been really so bad?
She regaled her view on the unfairness of all.
He laughed and said - she looked at the picture small.

Death is the gift that most covet.
It comes to those who deserve it.
The bad people are punished
They are kept alive.
The good ones all go to Elysium
The bad ones live on, on Earth.

 She said that she suffered immense pain, 
He said that God saved her again and again.
Death is but the most beautiful phenomenon.
God was just guilty for having you left so long alive
He is not selfish or resentful, He gave you freedom
So you could join me, My beloved, in Elysium.

She smiled, then repented her outburst.
He consoled her, told her to forget it.
God doesn't hold grudges, He pitied your pain
And sent you to me, to be loved again.

This is the story,
Of love and great fury.
The fact that death
Can so liberate
Was the moral of the story.
Pardon me for the details so gory.
The girl and the boy lived happily ever after,
And God smiled at them for being together.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

CLASS LIFE - A Poem

CLASS LIFE


Such boring class life,
Just looking outside the windows
Jerking into presence when the teacher shouts
Looking at the board with glassy eyes
Mind on a different track,
Head nodding  in a daze.

Such boring class life,
Getting up early, half asleep,
Trudging to school with a heavy bag,
But on heavier heart.
Waiting for recess, looking at watches
Waiting for teachers to leave, glancing at watches.

Such boring class life!
Subjects, matters flying at the speed of light
All going above our heads, like birds in flight.
Thoughts-naughty and contemplative, filling the brains.
A buzz like a bee, heard in all musical strains,
While all the important lectures, going down the drains.

I wish so much for this phase to end,
So much, that I'm counting down days.
A holiday feels like a much needed God send
The last exams feels like waking the dead.
Such sweet Salvation, breaking free from jail
Alas, is it ever going to end, with college in tail?

AN EMBRACE - A Poem

AN EMBRACE



I gaze at the horizon,
Mesmerised by its vastness.
The sky an orange expanse
Like fire softly glowing in the woods.

The wispy clouds painted yellow and red
The buildings silhouetted black like the dead.
The splashes of green here and there
Complete the whole heavenly Earth-Sky pair.

I peer down the cliff's hearth
The height makes me dizzy.
I look once more at the sightly gift
Then close my eyes and embraced the Earth.

JUST LET GO... - A Poem

JUST LET GO...


Great sorrow of truth, of life
It goes on, without any care for others.
Doesn't spend a dime for whom it bothers.
It indeed is as cruel as Agamemnon's wife.

Life goes on, indeed it does.
It doesn't wait for you to catch up.
It just moves, rapidly, superbly morose.
You just can't over make it stop.

So, let it go, on its own lonely path,
Let it go as you let go a trapped bird.
The more you try to hold on, the more you feel its wrath,
So, just let go, and laugh at it with all your mirth.

PARADOXICAL FUTURE - A Poem

PARADOXICAL FUTURE

What will happen in the future?
I wish I knew the answer!
Whether I will die young or
Live till a ripe old age, alive for years!

Knowing my failures prior,
To them actually happening to me.
Will it fill me with anxiety so crippling,
That my failures become a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Or, will it enable me to overcome them,
And turn  them into sweet fruits of a successful being?

But, won't my failures-turned-successes
Show again in my future sightings?
Then, shouldn't I feel content, and
Let the failures overcome the would-be-successes?

This baffles me so, this constant tortuous path
This is a living paradox-living, breathing, changing.
The future is The Labyrinth, this is the truth
Forever winding and unwinding, just as we almost unravel it.

Monday, August 8, 2016

DEAD ASPIRATIONS - A Poem

Dead Aspirations


A night yet again passed by,
With my child craving for a tricycle.
My beloved coveting to confront her ailing Mumma with a sigh,
And I postponing as usual, my character so typical.

The building shook, my bones within rattling,
The earth seemed to dislodge itself from the universe.
I grabbed my family, with the terror within me rising,
Just as the world came apart at its seams.

Voices first reached by desensitised ears,
Then I felt the still bodies of my existence pressed about me.
Comprehension dawned on me with an intensity fierce,
And I felt my life ebbing away from me.

Rescue had arrived, and maybe I would survive,
But all those dead aspirations cut me like sharpened knives
If I would but give up profit-making businesses for a day,
My family would have died all merry and gay.

How to respond to the calls of the rescuers,
When I desired to accompany my family in their tours?
My life wanted to come to a stand-still,
All I craved for was the fulfilment of my loved one's will.

LOVE TIES - A Poem

Love Ties


Oh! I wish I had never loved.
These paltry human emotions that fetter us to this world.
I wish I had never had,
These human weaknesses, I wish I'd never had.

I could float away in oblivion,
With all my senses ruptured.
Not a breath to be heard, and not a thought to think, 
That would be my Paradise, glimpsed in a wink.

I know now, how love torments you,
Not my sour memoirs, but by sweet memories.
Oblivion becomes a distant dream to you,
When you hear your beloved's pleading cries.

Being chained and fettered with soft silken ropes,
Leaves a cut deep when pulled against to be free.
They don't kill, but keep you alive,
They do everything but let you flee.

I would have gone into my Paradise,
If not for these ties of silken ropes.
They are called bravery, but it is all lies,
It is love, not bravery that holds us so.