Kaleidoscope

Escaping with little
Leaving home behind
A refugee in the world
Only a sky and courage to behold

Empty mansions
Tired caretakers
Only wealth to behold
A hostage to greed

Twain realities coexist
Yet they never meet

Peace is easy to violate
War remains difficult to negotiate

Ah! World…so predictable
With no new way ahead
We trudge the known bloody paths

Self-similar war games
Us and them

Power bereft of reason
Reason bereft of compassion
Compassion bereft of love
Love bereft of logic
Logic bereft of purpose

A farce called out
Wit bored of sarcasm
Futile cynicism

Kaleidoscope needs to be shaken
A new pattern must unfold
Out of all brokenness…

Random Musings

Yet another new year
Is back with the old baggage
Of fears and cautions
Prejudices and bigotry
Lurking shadows of
Diseases and death

They tell us
To hang on
To seek hope in
Science and prayers
Look for silver linings
And healings
Lost love
And musings

While prejudice kills peace,
And pride our compassion
While hate spreads
Like wildfire
Our comforts get
Traded and sold

While we lose our voice
And rights
Like Jesus
Or phoenix
Maybe they will rise
Just like balloons
Filled with their breath

Those little street urchins
They bear testimony of
Our collective failures,
Our naked emperors
Maybe their balloons display
Everyone’s lost smiles!!

#2022

Time

Sometimes I wonder
whether I lose track of time
or time loses track of me
Forgotten, erased, demonised
I lurk like the dark shadow
Waiting for the spotlight
To reveal that I exist

Spin

What kind of a spin is it?
What goes around, does come around
Yet, its never the same!

Laws teach nothing is lost
Yet, much cannot be retrieved
The top is also below
A walk on the mobius strip

In a world so self-similar
Nothing is familiar
For – What is, is never,
What really it is!

What we know, is actually,
Only the depth of the unknown
And that bond also decides the drift

Stuck on a blue planet in a vast abyss
Where war literally is sold as peace
I wonder,
What kind of a spin is it?

Lost Humanity

Scavenging under the rubbles
She looked for humanity
It was yet another day of
Strategic bombing

They tried to flee in vain
From guns and grenades
And bombs
And landmines
And beastly men

Death was everywhere
In every form
It caught up with all
Even those who escaped these
Troubled shores

She kept scavenging for humanity
Under the rubbles
Of the wasteland
Many died
For the sake of few
Who wanted to live

It was a lost battle
Under the rubbles
She scavenged
For dead humanity

The Blue Door

There is a blue door at end of the road. People say it’s the door to the happiness.  One can hear laughter and songs, but no one is ever seen crossing the threshold. Neighborhood believes that all the peace and happiness has got locked behind the blue door. No one knows who has locked all the joy away but the sadness and anger that is left behind is quite palpable.

As one walks down the road, one can hear screams of the locked lunatic sibling coming from an attic of one house. They say he lost his mind over a girl who was forced to marry someone from her clan. From another house one can hear heart rending lament of a mother whose only child has gone missing. A misogynist cop rants and screams in the other one, ordering his wife and children who tremble with fear. A young girl screams hysterically in the next one whenever she hears a footstep, “They are coming for me. Save me.”

The town has a church, a temple, synagogue and a mosque where prayers are held daily. Everyone prays for peace and prosperity that they think is locked elsewhere behind the Blue door. They all hold each other’s faith in doubt. They all live in constant fear and pride of their gods. They fight and attack each other relentlessly. It feels as though they are compelling their gods to compete in a race to gain the highest glory and power of the land (just like they wanted the children to compete once upon a time). Sadly, they have managed to drive both gods and children away.

After prayers everyone returns to the little hell they have managed to create. The Blue door remains shut forever. In their fight, hatred and bigotry, the town has forgotten that the gods have left key to the door with them – the key that opens only when there is love and kinship.

Howling Winds

It was in the news

Cyclonic storm was on its way

They did what they could

To prevent the disaster

They monitored the eye and the tail

There it was circulating,

feeding on winds

And gathering momentum

It all seemed calm on the shores

Till the waves began to move faster

It came closer,

Sounds of the howling winds

Made it all real

Everyone knew

All preparations were made

All estimates looked good

But there was no way to assess

The damage it did

Young ones quivered in fear

Homeless knew they will be

Unaccounted ones

Lonely man walked on the street

Unaware of the perils

No one had told him to be safe

He took shelter under the very tree

That crushed him minutes later

Howling winds

Harbingers of death

Preyed on lonely, helpless

And homeless

Farmers lamented as

Entire harvest got washed away

No one realised

Storm was our harvest

By feeding Earth, wind and seas

Our anger, disgust, greed,

wastes, pollutants and hatred

Cyclonic storm just churned it all.around

And returned what we had reaped

With anger and vengeance

Winds, earth and sea turned hostile

Howling winds perhaps were warning us –

“Don’t be a bully

It all can all boomerang very badly!! “

Silence and the Darkness

When silence becomes deafening

And the words hide in the dark

Slowing erasing history

I try to figure out their forms

Or meaning or language

Nothing emerges

It’s a dark dense space

Nothing is visible

Nor is audible

I wait

Maybe words are being born

Maybe a new reality is taking a form

What if it’s a monster that’s in the making?

What if the silence is made of inaudible screams?

As the world looks away in faith

Blinded by the festive lights

I will hang on to my doubts

I shall still try to listen to sounds of silence

And try to peer into dark abyss

With or without hope

Jump

Unable to find answers

Unable to bear the questions

Acutely aware

Of all closed doors

And humiliations

And all silences

She decided to jump

As she walked along the edge

Too many thoughts

Crowded her mind

She wanted to cut loose

From the past

From the present

The questions

The helplessness

The despair

Her luckless and

Loveless life

When no one pays heed

When life is cruel

What’s the point?

What’s the point?

On and on

The thoughts fogged her mind

Tears blinded her vision

Suddenly a stranger stopped her

“Please take one bunch please.

I haven’t eaten whole day”

A blur of bunch of yellow roses

Were staring at her face

Prodding her was

Another voice of despair

Carrying a bunch of bloom

What an irony!!

She paid the boy

And watched the train go by

She brought home

The yellow flowers.

She wondered…

There is a point maybe…

There are people maybe…

There are doors maybe…

There are paths maybe…

There is a future maybe…

That day she didn’t jump

But took a leap of faith instead!

Bare Foot Joy

Making, flying and chasing paper kites

Bare foot

Running across the crowded streets

They seem to soar just like the kites

Kite runners look happy

Across continents their joy is same

For the moment

They are free just like their kites

Riding on the lightness of the moment

They behold pure joy

The joy that eludes

The boy across the street

Sitting in the car

Staring through the glass window

He is a prisoner of luxuries

While poverty has set others free

They run like wind

Through narrow lanes

They hop across building roof tops

While the other stays glued

To the smart phone screen

Sun kissed

Blessed by the evening breeze

Our kite runners seize the moment!

Ah! the bare foot joy

That eludes the little boy!