Anguish lit!

Talking of righteousness
Purity they oft preach
Perched on high horses
Their thoughts in filth seep

Why care about another?
Feelings matter not
Behind by millennia
They remain filled with dearth

“How can I have his land?”
“I want that money to keep”
Material thoughts possess these minds
Wisdom from holy books they speak

“He was born low
How dare he fraternise!
In the house of this god
Only we can make the choice”

“She isn’t white enough
Who cares for her thoughts?
She could be one of us
Only if she questions naught”

“Of my caste I stand proud
I was born pure as milk
It’s not thought, nor deed or action
It is just this god’s will”

Blind they are to reason
Blind for choose not to see
Why am I to reason?
I will just simply be me

Insane ramblings

Sometimes it is so easy to give up, to fail,
to crawl under a rock and pretend to be dead

How nice it would be, I wonder when I am gone
All my worries, my anxieties will leave me alone

Forget the bills; skip the EMIs, no more commitments to bother
Fix that light, that leaky pipe, did the fridge stop cooling again?

I wish I’d run away, take a different path or pick another way,
How should I go? Should I walk, run or simply let my mind stray

Should I pretend to be weaker or stupider for someone to care?
Should I give up who I am and live a lie that seems to others as fair?

It’s amazing how weakness brings out the sympathy!
Why anyone ever works is simply beyond me?!

Am I fat; am I ugly, should I be more like her?
Should I stoop? should I cower? Men seem to prefer a timid girl

How did I manage to get this way? Where did that happy child go?
How did I turn into this insecure adult when the child in me was so pure?

Now my friends too I have to garner with care,
it’s not ‘bout me but about those who stare

An image apparently I have to maintain
a do-gooder girl with no thought train

Sadder still the fact remains, I can’t live up to this brilliant fantasy
I seem insane, in a pretend-sane world of picket fences and fake grins

By the woods

The girl sat alone by the wooded realms,
Day dreaming, she numbed her senses to rest.
She heard slow movements of creatures’ unseen,
As she rested her feet on the grass green…

Slowly the clouds drifted across the sky,
Strange visions they brought to her mind.
Far and near her thoughts were set adrift,
Oh what a joy was it to simply sit!

No worries, no thoughts, naught bothered her now,
All that mattered were leaves and swaying boughs…
She felt the sun caress her hair,
For once, she let go of all that despair…

Horror stories!

Vanish behind that curtain,
Run up those stairs…
It’s the time for scary stories
Look, who’s creeping there!

Finely woven as threads of silk,
These stories are set to amaze.
Transport you to another world they do,
Your deepest fears they raise!

Forget ghosts and haunting poltergeists,
Leave the psychotic killers behind.
Even animals their farms shan’t leave,
Just open up your mind…

Let loose those fears of loneliness,
Watch your pride take centre stage.
Notice your hungry eyes lust upon someone,
Don’t bother with the moral parade.

What then will happen to that mask of yours?
Who’d want to see your face?
Find the truth about your crumbling flesh,
Awaiting time’s decay…

Horror stories aren’t made of evil ghosts,
Nor they are of spirits unkind,
Horror stories are just a human condition,
Escaping the human mind…

Living the dream

What is our constant need to live a lie?
To live the dream that others seek
To cloak our sorrows in a lucid smile
To deny ourselves our very lives

'He lived the dream' they proudly said
Yet they coveted his every breath
A happy face he forever portrayed
Damning them all to death

This man they thought ‘he has it all’
They followed his every move
A stagger and they brought him down with a thud
His life was theirs to bleed

'He made his money from lies' they said
'He cheated on his wife'
'Oh look at his many flaws' they laughed
'He was never so perfect indeed'

They laughed him off, their ex-hero
The spoils were theirs to lavish
Another hero will soon ascend
It’s all about the better trick

Alas, then comes along an honest soul
Confused like the few before
'This is not my dream' he said
'I want not a billion dollars nor bars of gold'

He wished to live his life his way
To see the world anew
To think his own and make his place
His terms were disapproved

‘Rebel, hunt him down!’ they screamed
Yet each his courage sought
They wondered how he broke free
When all of them could not

Hope floats

A destitute past 18 in the train
She’s got her wares to sell
A few toys and a plastic dream
To escape the nightmare in which she dwells
She wails and bargains a price
While she soothes her baby ill

He is all of four with flowing nose
No thought for his tattered clothes
He bears a perturbing smell
His hair’s in curls matted with dirt
His nails covered with grime
Yet each day he learns a new nursery rhyme

To dust my life is shattered
The young mother thinks
Tough my life is, so be it
But I'll never let him sink
Her stubborn hope holds her on
Her sleeping baby and a rattling sound

Kids!

Fold a napkin - you’ve got a train
A floating cloud - a bunny makes
A starry night - a set stage
And you’ll never know what else they’ll make!

We too were them not so long ago
Our wheels did spin and our wings did soar
Across the river and above the sky
Another dream we all lived by

Then one day we thought it cool to grow
To hold the brief case and drive to and fro
All the money would buy so much
We could party, there would be no homework

Now grown up, that kid waits alone
In a dim lit corner within our soul
He rises up with every moon
And makes you think, why did I grow up so soon?

An amazing insanity

There is something amazing about the insanity of faith. An insanity about those who follow their heart, their dreams knowing fully well that it will be easier to do what others do, to follow the oft tread path, to simply comply and conform. Yet they go against the tide, work against the grain and simply step out and excel.
They don’t run the world and they don’t care who does. They are out of it, apart from it and walk this earth exploring things anew. They don’t set trends for others to follow, neither do they wait on accolades, commendations or prizes. They do what they do only because it is all that they know how to.

I stand in awe of them, inspired and overwhelmed. I thank them for who they are, shakti, hozefa and all who are unlike others.