Reforming INDIA

A while back I came across an article in “The Times of India”. It was pretty incredible and yet very sad. It did somehow make me think as to where our country stands, whether we are progressing, standing still or regressing. Whether the platform for better technological advancement, guided future development is ready or not, whether the society is able enough to find peace with the growing global recognition and surge, and whether blaming the government is all we got.

The article was about a resident of Switzerland who liked India as a nation for the spicy food, spicy ladies, incredible beauty, culture, history, monuments, and historical marvels like the Gateway of India, Taj Mahal and many more things. He even praised Bollywood movies and stated ‘Fanna & Veer Zara’, as fantastic movies. Well, may be now you Continue reading

Long Live the Friends

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“Friends” was the first series I ever saw, even before Seinfeld. The show seemed ordinary at first, to be specific the first season, but then it really blew me away. I am not sure what was it, whether it was the script, the characters, or the fact that I envisioned having similar bond with my friends. The first season, was more traditional, you can guess from the music, and their acting, but it was still nice compared to any that featured in the similar genre, such as Party of Five, Chicago Hope, My so called Life, The Vicar of Dibley etc. It was the second season when I saw the characters and thought that they exist, this could be true, its no fiction, I must find myself some of these friends. Continue reading

Sins #1

Lust Lechery

Sociality pelted along,
as civilizations throve, rugged,
with customs, portfolios,
establishing beliefs,
spurring right-wrong,
and
world though beauteous
shunned to colossal lechery,
reasons must I tell?

Though lust not lechery,
to think not act,
indulges not a potent opposite,
but must I tell,
neither attraction, nor love,
craving bodily amazement,
like addicted to the living
like a mere object,
to ideate thoughtful orgasms,
isn’t ill and stupendous?

Though might stand confusion,
amidst horrid dubieties,
if lust were love, attraction,
were marriage,
but must I tell
though not bound to church,
is sanctity of free will,
decorum of consciousness,
and
to heed too much
to something,
as if world is blank,
never is righteous.

To Friendship

Everyone has their own version of friendship.
It’s a self explanatory word though, nothing like it. To set sail in a ship with memories of a friend (physical presence not essential), that’s all.
Talking I’m not good at but convey everyone must, so here it is, appreciate y’all!

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Embracing
and amassing love
dripping from pockets replete
remember always, responsible ain’t me, it’s you.

… his brilliance, his song

A kid, his brilliance, his song.

In this gullible world,
his own song,
like no other.
No chorus,
like alone pushing clues.
Perpetual and seamless,
like ventures unexampled.
Adamant and naive,
unlike ripples in waters
that cease at lands amazement.

And a kid, his brilliance, his song.

In this restrained world,
his own song,
like no other.
Clubbed to a domain,
like his world it is.
Shunned to closet,
like exploration ain’t worth.
Floors won and seated upon
by bosses of sections,
must he crawl stairs to convince all.

And again,
a kid, his brilliance, his song.

Need be,
neither gullible nor restrained,
but receptive.
Need be,
not uncomfortable standing ovation,
to chain of commands,
but allowance to speak.
Need be,
not rejection conducing adamant,
but ear to hear.

And shall rejoice
kid and the world,
and staged bosses,
with his brilliance, his song.

Continue reading

Large Guanacaste tree

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I see green
touching golden grass,
vastness of structure,
shade for comfort,
strong and insuperable,
Large-Guanacaste-tree,
a traveler’s paradise,
Large-Guanacaste-tree.

I don’t see dark,
beneath the shade,
lie roots naked, devoid
of leaves and fruits,
sipping water, from wherever,
digging deeper, beyond it’s
length, to make green
Large-Guanacaste-tree.

A picture perfect,
never is all lucrative,
A picture perfect,
never is about beauty,
A picture perfect,
exists, background known
and visible to a few, whilst all see
Large-Guanacaste-tree.

Gloomy are the roots, hidden,
it’s not known to some,ignored by
some, accepted by some.
It’s “menial” for arrogant rich,
it’s “sacrifice” for wise, alright,
capable of discernment, living,
but it’s also “life-of-many”,
not pretty, but exists a “picture perfect”.

Such is life, I agree,
I understand and I don’t complain.
But next time,
when I see
Large-Guanacaste-tree,
I shall appreciate thee
hidden beneath
Large-Guanacaste-tree.

From RANDOM to RHYME

It’s decremental, it is, you will see.
I wish to explicate an observable beauty.

In a house, began my life, contemporary,
clustered with people, eating brownie,
non-complicated, and I was taught
lessons of life. I invariably bought,
curiosity was, questioning I did, most times,
they answered too, and so the frequent climbs.
I believed, for trust was larger-than-life,
not that I understood “what was life?”
but those first steps in school, sometime
I feel I had moved from random to rhyme.

It’s decremental, it is, you will see.
I wish to explicate, an observable beauty.

In school, associations grew, and new
knowledge cluttered over existing value.
A walk in NEW unfolded variables,
I resonated with yes, for I trusted all angles,
But life as we know it, was not up for hide,
color it revealed, I denied, but it kept aside
morality, truth it showered, “yes, I was lied”,
trust, my innocence, that day “died”.
Conscious stammered, I reviewed my crime,
realizing life had moved from random to rhyme.

It’s decremental, it is, didn’t you see?
I wish to explicate, an untold agony.

In life, started happening, contemplating,
caution grew paramount. It’s truth or acting?
Layered knowledge tampered, who to blame,
questioning all, life never remained the same.
Who knew, random was just scattered ties,
of placed, known and untested allies.
Who knew, rhyme wasn’t just a poetic tool,
but to sing along this manipulative solicit pool.
So, was changed, learned to not trust a dime,
with adjustment moved, from random to rhyme.

It’s decremental, placing trust, you see,
losing as aging. So, cerebrating, to seek some for me.

Note
The poem is on trust, how we lose it as we grow, remember childhood, how we believed everything and everyone, and now, when we meet people, it takes time, a lot of time, and sometimes even after the endless time we are left guessing.