Saying No To Liberation

Should i step into the delusive circles of meaning and hope,
Or stand outside amused at what goes on,
Without being,in the least,amused.
These narratives
--of friendship
--of fidelity and faith
--of love, hope, and life itself
are nothing but a
consensus,
without many of us realising.
Now that I think I have,
How can i believe otherwise?
How I Wish I could slip into that vortex,
And never emerge,
How I wish I could delude myself...

To the Unsung, the Ordinary

What can it mean?
I ought to find out.
Does it hold true for everything,
for everyone?
What will become of the world?
Should the path ahead be left,right or centre?
What could be the possible implications of such an eventuality?

But wait,
I am thirsty,
I am hungry,

I see the old woman come and collect the dirty dishes,
She is all smiles,
I've seen her do the same thing for more than a year,
Nothing path-breaking,nothing political,
And yet, the confident smile.

I Won't Be Here Next Year

I breathe in the odours of the morning,
Soak in the packets of sunlight
That filter through the leaves of the tamarind,
Which sway to the laden monsoonal morning breeze.
The sun struggles to pull itself up, break itself free
From the merry clouds that promise
More wet grass, more puddles,
More life coming into life.
I know I cannot be here next year,
To witness the newer nurseries of plants,
And even more life coming into life.
But I wasn’t here to see
The death of the mother monkey,
Or the Loss of the Father Peacock’s feathers,
Or the Buffalo being hit by the Shuttle service
The year before last.
Life consists in accepting the cruelty of ‘moving on’,
Of slogging yourself to newer destinations,
And driving yourself on...
And in telling yourself that this is how
You’ll be a man.
The Sun is out now,
And its the same everywhere.

I DON'T MEAN TO...

A blank white screen stares at me,

Silhoutted against the mirth of darkness,

But the red signals in the distance,

The lively apartment complexes and the busy streetlights,

Appear even merrier,

So does the cacophony accompanying the radio station,

Life, I see, is being built,

The screen is no longer empty,

Darkness has crept in,

And all mankind is happy.

The Word...

It lied to you again, it always has,
You are the eternal naivete,
expecting it to reveal to you,
The 'truth', the 'light', the ultimate.
It never does. It never will.
The liar lifts you into an enthrall,
Tosses you about on the surf,
Leaving you wishing for even greater heights.
But even before the sun blinds you,
You sink into the abysmal water,
Never to rise again.
Life lies in beating him, the liar,
In living beside and besides his lies.
That hunger and thirst are what they are,
And all that is.
Undoing the liar, through him,
I fight, knowing my fall,
Nay hoping for it.

A Test of my Faith...

On such lonely nights as this,
When every breath is an effort,
Every moment an eon,
I look at the stars for company,
And I find you there—
Among them, smiling at me…
I try and smile. I have to.
A moment’s insanity blinds me,
Tells me that we’re together—it’s
An unconscious insanity,
From which I instantly wake myself,
Tell myself that light years exist between us,
That a day would come, when even an agnostic would be firm,
But how can this be?

We feel nothing but lost glances at each other,
Nothing but the winds of feeling,
Nothing but the meeting of our emotions in the solitude of the crowds.
We need nothing but the urge:
To hold intact the mirror that reason is,
To maintain the sacrosanct frontiers—a test of our faith,
And despite all those joyful delusions of ours,
The strength to deny ourselves a chance at being human, for
How can this be?

The promise was never between us,
It was between myself and I.
I should smile, I should try to.
It is a test of my faith.

...thought-fox?

I see nothing but revolutions of the fan. I've had a nice dinner. A little too nice, perhaps. The night air is cool enough. I can sense silent slumbers around me. Nothing has survived the darkness, except the moonlight, the cricket and my thoughts...

I fight my sleep. Do I? There never was any.

Something tugs from within. I wonder what lies within...I hear nothing, I feel it too. Man doth not live by bread alone.

The moonlight,as does the cricket, survives, I surrender; darkness defeats me. This is our story…