Garbage from a polluted mind

Do you like visiting a historical museum or an archaeological site? Many of us may not and many just wonder why people spend their time and money in seeing things which people say ‘were used by the historical figures earlier’. Whether it is the dress worn by the kings or the gun, or the vessels, the throne, the crown, the equipment, the cushion, the locks etc. all these can tell the current generation how we have been evolved over the years. These historical things are the testimony of it.

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the irony called life

oh…the time just flies like anything

the train of the months passes with a zing

the beads of dates change in second

the unit of time quite hard to be reckoned

the sprint towards the death is faster

the changing calendars spelling disaster

every year flaunts and runs away fast

how long will this weakening body last?

what for we have ascended on this earth?

what is the real motive of this birth?

where is the peace for this wandering soul?

what is our mission, what is our goal?

yesterday we were kids now we are parenting them

and soon tomorrow our kids will be the parents

the shift in the roles is sweet though sore

we keep moving till the edge and more

till we are out of this game of existence

and then, there will neither be presence nor absence

the life bubble

they say life is a bubble, let it be

at least colourful world I can see

the bubble may burst some day

till then let me live my life my way

God has blown this bubble for us

let no one try to prick it or crush

the bubble may float up or down

we may feel happy or may frown

but the bare fact of the life is clear

till bubble lasts cheer without fear

quartet of life

the human life too is a sort of quartet

starts with sunrise, ends with sunset

the stage of being  infant is heavenly

being God like physically and mentally

and then the stage of being a naive kid

getting seasoned by the worldly bid

then comes the adulthood so mature

the love for life  peaks though unsure

this stage if the real  root of all evils

the rise of offenders the rise of rebels

and then comes the door to the heaven

old age with lots of accrued frustration

one lives daily prepared to meet death

holding on to feeble trembling breath

but music of this quartet is so hypnotic

it is so captivating enchanting and exotic

let us feel the music of life from the heart

and learn to live life’s each and every part

No strategies, its my life

when I fail in my endeavours, they say I am not practical

but why do I plan a strategy, I am not a political animal

so what if success doesn’t come to me in an open platter

thought hope is not a strategy, for me it really does matter

I may lose to contemporaries, but that won’t hurt me at all

as I don’t have much expectations, my ambitions are small

failures never get to my heart, the success not on my head

and I will keep trying it my way till I am completely dead

so, if I will not find my love, my love may find me someday

I may not be there fully, but I am closer than I was yesterday

the real shocks

when people have enough material to ease you

and you don’t get provoked, they get the shock

when the people are jealous of your success

you don’t pay heed to them, they get the shock

when people laugh at you when you fell down

but you stand up smiling, they get the shock

when people dig grave and you are trapped

but you don’t lose your cool, they get the shock

when you fail in your endeavors, others joy

and you too join their gang, they get the shock

when there is no one standing to speak truth

you stand up alone resolute, they get the shock

why to blame the electricity for all the shocks

when truth is electrifying and honesty rocks

the reward

where did all the words suddenly go

I can relate your reply in just yes or no

we had a big array of thoughts bartered

the endless strings of words exchanged

the impressions on keyboard vanished

the mouth dried, the tongue desiccated

the nights over brimming with radiance

the time running fast to its brilliance

and then suddenly there was this thud

feelings battered, the dreams shattered

only to find myself all alone, crestfallen

the heart obliterated, the eyes swollen

now I wonder in a state of painfulness

is this the reward for my responsiveness