when we leave,
we leave behind
our memories,
the stories hang
around as reveries
in all the branches
of the tree from where
the leaves had dropped
in hope or in despair,
we aren't there in the scene
anymore, but we're to be
seen all the more,
the absence is consumed
by the presence that
forever grows, blooms
Oftentimes
it needs effort to see
what's closest,
could be a friend,
a soulmate, or
an opportunity;
everyone knows
where the nose
is, but it invariably
escapes our gaze,
our eyes don't realise
its presence until we
focus to experience
its existence.
No, I don't want to take part in any
competition, I don't want to win
any prize, no recognition impresses
me, no, not anymore, I'm fairly sure,
I don't want to be the best, please go
ahead, I want to keep my kindness
intact, I don't want the rudeness of
being the best by stampeding all
the rest; right in the middle of
rewards and accolades, I'd be left
alone on the throne, being lonely
for me is way too costly.
I know leaders have to be apart
from the crowd should they want
their precious crown, but I want
to be a follower, for I have seen
what leaders do, what winners win.
Excellence? No, it doesn't come
from winning a battle, it comes
from being in the pride, or in the
cattle doing your best, not being
the best. Yearning to be the best
often makes you a beast
wanting to kill, waiting to feast.
The real achievement for me
comes from the pleasure of
being and doing things together.
Hey guys, those killers
with guns and revolvers
are criminals, they're judged,
put behind the bars; but
what do you do with words?
You hurt, hit, bleed, curse
others beyond repair,
yet hide behind your
your kind gesture,
your fragile body, a little
under the weather,
your innocuous gait,
hey there, everyone
can notice your crime,
but none can litigate.
Wait a minute, you're
also punished, sometimes
with sleeplessness, at times
with other diseases,
but in your case,
you're always on the loose
to shoot whosoever
you so lovingly choose.
everyday
words, thoughts
and actions
are used to
hurt others,
rarely to heal,
yet, with these
merciless maladies
I remain perpetually
in awe,
I am flawless is the
most indulgent flaw
I have the face of
somebody else,
their words script
my looks, who I am
hides behind the sham
...
the searchlight
reduces to a torch,
to a fading candle,
to a feeble incense
stick,
it's a dark world
overexposed, the one
inside, that which could
reinstate the strength
lies unexplored
...
I don't know why I
named these as facing
the light, can anyone
help in understanding
the logic, it's ridiculous,
but, wait a minute, it is
also pointless to look
for sanity when one tries
to see the sun with a
candle, or burn it with
the wand, an insane
stick, I have lost it,
I am in the dark,
I lost it
The head and the horn,
the rose and the thorn,
disparate as day and night
for the herd flocking
on the safe side; it's unable
to connect the two and unite,
to catch the unicorn, with
coke and popcorn is beyond
the scope of the throng.
I found the lost scripts
they had different notation;
varied words, but the gist
was the same, for they all
meant, we win as one
...
in every leaf, there is life,
volumes written, stories told
some fall, don't get into the fold,
they nourish the tree as they lie
...
in a world where
entertainers take
the lion's share of
the cake, real
pleasure is at stake
...
artists, players
give their best
to bring out the
hidden emotions of
their audiences, who
have an out-of-the-world
experience; but the moment
the entertainer exits,
merriment ceases to exist,
the stakeholders are thrown
back into their own
old worlds pining for more
...
entertainment is loud,
it hits you hard with
music, with words,
when the weed is gone,
you become vacant, forlorn
whining for more
