In Depravity

As the lonely soul sat there alone,
Not knowing what to do,
Trying to figure out what was aloof,
That brought forth this familiar sadness anew.

In depravity drown she did,
Often searching for the much wanted reach.
And though council she did preach,
Good for her never it did.

Searching for a haven of light,
In this darkness she's shrouded in.
Introspecting on her plight,
Like a cocoon she curled herself in.

Cycles, the cycles of life.
Mistakes you make, mistakes you learn.
Yet, this recurrent circle of life
Makes you think, what have I to learn?

When you think the worst is over,
What you are looking forward to is a better morrow,
Bait it does with happy aura,
And in no time, greet you do, the sorrowful morrow.

Such piteous condition!
What abomination!
Is there no solution?!
To this vile discrimination?!

What do I do wrong?
To hurt me so wrong?
What do I do now?
To make my life a wow?

Or do I continue this existence?
And thwart my life's persistence?

Death: A Thought

Death is peace. Why should anyone say otherwise? Where does everyone's spirit of adventure and curiosity go when it comes to death? Why can't one embrace death once it comes? What if this is just the beginning, like a visual stimulation or something that is training us, preparing us for something greater. What if this is the hell that we all talk about? Death might be the answer to all our questions, all that we crave and desire for. It might give us the meaning that we are all seeking for, the meaning of our existence, of our purpose, of this thing that we call ' life ' itself. This supposed ' fear ' of death might be something that holds us back to stop ourselves from doing something reckless, to keep us in check till our time comes to wake up. And as we wake up, the death in itself is dead or ceases to exist as is said in the poem ' Death Be Not Proud '. Death is not the powerful one. We are. Death lives, or the fear of death lives only as long as we have the fear of ceasing to exist and how do we know if we cease to exist? It might just be the beginning of a greater journey. Live your life without fearing what you have no control of. Live your life without dreading what just might be your imagination.

Revival

The truth,
So hazy, so hard to find.
The breath,
So forceful, so hard not to mind.
Where have I found myself?
In this Abyss of Chaos?
What should I believe?
Grant me some relief.
For this torture is hard to bare,
And for me, this rawness is found rare.

Live! Like all are born to do.
Live! Like all were supposed to do.
Enough with all the pretences!
Gear up all the defences!
Stand straight! Head high!
And march like the warrior you are!

An Odyssey

I once got on a train in India.
Getting on seemed like such a trivia,
But once I was about to embark,
A power so potent came my way
And rammed me away.
By God’s grace or sheer luck,
I know not.
But a grip and footing, I managed to claim.

But alas! What of my claims?
My belongings, claim my hand,
They nearly did.
Awhile it was before I felt my limb.
But I came to know…
The adventure’s just begun.
I entered the empire of grunts and foot.
All on a quest to plant their root.
Though a few blotches I got on my way,
The crowd there was, was surely very gay.
Friends I made in the process.
And finally found a spot in the recess.
Once roots were firmly planted,
The journey thus began.

Indians true to their nature,
Ever hospitable and jovial,
Conversations thus began.
History spoken, mystery revealed and laughter exchanged.
But the ever present enigma and suspiciousness
Looming at large overhead.
Food offered and denied,
Pickpockets renowned,
And a hundred such concerns.
Food so delicious and beneficial I had,
Which paved my pathway
To the grand hospital so well talked of.
A memorable experience
That sure was!
The rustle of bags and papers,
Tickets shown and verified,
The formidable TTE thus walked off.

The night closing in.
Some off to the toilets, to nurture
The nature.
While others settle on their bunks or seats.
I look out the window,
Aaah! So peaceful and serene.
Nature at its best as we pass
An open green mass.
The sweet smell of the grass,
And the night air so typical here.
The iron tinted air,
Blown to your faces through the grills.
A sensation that sure is!
So at peace you are.
Awaiting the mysteries there are.
A smile on your face,
A tug at your heart,
The cool wind on your body and soul.
I lie down on my bunk.
Eyes closed, bags held tight.
A slumber greets me.
When awake again,
Now, that’s another adventure.

An Enigma

A quiet night,
Gurgling of a brook beyond.
A star filled night,
Sending light from beyond.
Reminding us of ancestors past.
Reminding us of glorious past.
A light so strong and potent.
An everlasting beam,
From the past it commences.

In the time when everything's forgotten.
When history needs reminding.
When self is proclaimed first.
A jolt, nay, a glimpse of the past is wanted.
To remind us of the journey
We traversed.
To remind us of the mountains
We climbed.
To remind us of the disaster
Of destruction.
To remind us of the pain
Of the gory.

A brilliant light.
Literally sent from heaven,
For us to see and introspect on.
A second chance,
By the universe offered.
Showing whilst so,
It conspires to do good.
Its unified in all aspects.
A great big web interconnected.
And to humanity too sheds a thread.

I watch from my window,
With the melodious brook
In the backdrop.
A pleasant peaceful night,
With thousands of diamonds,
Lacing the sky.
And an orb of light amidst it.
A net of secrets and mystery,
A string of history,
For those curious to pursue.
A treat for the eye,
And a vessel of knowledge.

A slight breeze reaches me,
A rustling of leaves.
Clouds weaving through and
Shrouding the mystery.
I wrap my blanket,
A bit more tightly.
A deep sigh and a last look.
With a smile I parted,
The enigma ever present.
In rest I closed my eyes.
When open again,
A new day it shall behold.
Now, how to persue, how do you think?

An Immortal Being

As gentle as the wind it blows.
As soft as silk is it's caress.
Like a bright sun it glows.
So nonchalant in its progress.
Such is it's prowess.

Time in its eternal glory,
Consumes man's fury.
Taking in stride,
All that comes,
It's up for a ride,
That sure becomes.

Time is immortal,
Yet so mortal.
At times it feels
As if it reels,
As if it drags.
So temperamental in it's plight,
Is this immortal being.

Through our joy and pain,
Through our loss and gain,
An unyielding companion it is.
A silent spectator,
Smiling a mischievous smile.
For it knows of the joy and gain,
That is yet to come.

For time is the dictator,
And he knows,
All that begins,
Has an end.
And as we go into the abyss
Whence we came,
It too shall follow us.
For our time,
Shall perish with us.

Such is the mortality of the immortal time.

Transcendence

We feel sad,
We feel happy.
What are these emotions,
But a temporary flight of
Feelings?
To let one be guided by emotions,
Is a folly so atrocious,
That one may fall prey
To this world's foul play.

To forsake the bait,
When forsaking ain't easy.
To rise to the gait,
When rising ain't easy.
Is all but the glory of man.