January 30, 2009 § 11 Comments

A calm ,A quiet,
A horrenous riot.
An hour of sense,
An ounce of innocence,
A peferct balance;
The disturbance,
permutation for revolution-
Time to change and live innovation.

As the sun moves North,
And at six o clock strikes crimson,
And at such a vertex,
Earth seems a abode,
Of nature and nurture, propose.
Thoughts concave to the power
Within;Gesticulations cover
The paradigm and belonging
Gives rise to the mind and spirit
To work in collaboration,
To churn and grow the seeds of innovation.

Action and admiration,
Solace and Revival,
The knowledge that yonder
Sallies moves the hands
To move the bows ,
Spark the verses felt within
And arise the sense to a new-
To hilt the epiphany
And turn the arbitrary
Into a modus operandi
Of reason and purpose-
Actions and reactions
Of thoughts and conclusions.

And at such magnanimity
The force against is a hurt
To remind,a scar borne
To inspire and become livelier.
In the strength never shall wilt
And now in force there be no guilt.
An excess maybe split,
But creation and mutation
Are there to push-a shove
To the reaches and a drag
To the limits,an urge to think
Better and discover,
An urge to see beyond the seen
And to life,the secrets redeem.

The world in change is constant.
And at such gullible penchant,
Remains a reverberation,
The need to know,
The need to throw
Light on the ability to fight
With tools ,to sound the wind
With words of wisdom
And of conclusive thought-might;
So that the err of the weak
Shall be an onus for them to bear
And face their own needy glare.

Never shall a sown thought die,
Nor shall the greatness of knowledge go by
Without a struggle and in surrender to the darkness,
Of those who are afraid
Of their very shadow,
As they destine themselves to a dark morrow.

The light shines the brightest


January 27, 2009 § 14 Comments



























































A metaphor called God

January 19, 2009 § 19 Comments

A blanket above,
A world below,
As dreams fill sleep,
Angles oblique and steep,
Fill grotesque hours with
Inert worth of days, betwixt.

The day scumbs to night,
The hours hang alive,by minutes,
Postulates to the sense of being alive.
Attachments call,to feel,
To be,to sense victory,of something
Which is an image of something greater.

A metaphor called God,
Revives a sense of an all
Engraved hour-into one,
Of an acclaimed need,in a few
Verses,which relight the sight,
To the touch of a greater proportion,
The value of life-the pinnacle of salvation.

To err is human,yet to err is not human.
A cell of nature,an atom of a final being,
Circular waves of creation and destruction,
Flow within,thus making a final preposition-
That balance is within and around,
Freedom senseible and yet bound.
The liberty to move,
The capricious constants,
Which grow and grew,
Thanks to winds of east and west,
Some ultimate zest,a locus at every point,
So cunningly mystic,
that to not dream is drastic.

In the being,a sense lives.
Of what?Of whom? Of where?
Is something which few dare,
To raise and even fewer to chase.
And to one whose moral is low,
How to put across,how to show,
That beyond everything there is a gap,
And that which dares not to show up,
Is the one which we need to find,
For a known foe is better than an unknown fiend.

God,a superlative common,
To all.Yet one which we deem to be stoned
Or ubiquitous yet made to be borne.
But nay,the circumstances,
The thee breaths free-as free
As any human born into the world,
A product of nature and essentially
Of something greater,a wall against to run,
To constantly compare and raise to,
From birth to death through.

The God is of a greatness,which within
We strive to evolve,to push the being,
As God is one,and all is one,termed
Or understood to be God.If not for
Man’s intellect how would a word,
Be thrown about,stud to every language,
Common to everyone alive? how a concept
Be so profound and left to interpret
And yet be starved with glorious neglect
Of a few? From where or when arose
This force or concept such,
That its value be so little yet so lush?

When can a mind,be so alive,
That is sees life? When can pain
Be so alive,that living is a sense?
What worth is this world,
When one dreams? And what of
God,does is it mean?
A mode through which we know?
Or a clear and stark iridescent show?
A spark of light?
Or the setting sigh of a twilight?

What integrity does everything propose
To,that we have a value to set aside
And compare and abide? The way of God?
If so,then a balance and not goodness to all
Can be seen,how can a universe be,
Set to a better tune,when the impact
Is seen as the one to reach and not the
Beauty and vivacity of each string and sound?
Is this a way to be bound? Ignorance
Seems to chaff life of a greater benevolence.
Yet something keeps alive.
Something tells you,you are right.

One in all,
All in one,
Justice, poetic,
Illusions mystic.
visions and thoughts
All within and around a circle,
Yet what tangent should we find,
To take a new path and understand
The nature of light?
If life be a force,
If earth be or not be more than a rock,
What is the master plot?

God,A feeling,a sense,
To be seen within,that which
Prompts and pulls and moves,
The being from within,
That which strives to give
Sense to all.If life was just
A being with thought and sense
And the ability to feel,
God is that which makes
All of it real and a sense of superior,
Which motivates the being to move,
And then search its value.

If God is the truth,then it means
To search it,means an means to an end.
If God be life,then it means a calm
To overcome phases of death.
If God means everything,
Then it is a negation of nothing.
And so God be everything,
That which is everything we know
Moves,which prompts us to move,
So that it too,can grow through
And intend its virtue to a few more,
Of cosmic worlds unknown and unseen.

God is a metaphor,
The name,the forms given to the blur,
Which we all see.
The force which makes us think,
The force that makes us seek.
Instinct and knowledge,
Worlds and Wisdom,
Virtue and venerated.

Without a gap,
Without a constant arising
From all,what curve can be right?
Might and brutish strength,
Achievements through veiled plagues,
Yet justice served is infinite
And so it is poetic.
God at a poet’s heart,
Seems to sketch,something,
Consistent and thoughtful
Yet a play with misery and beauty,
Every tone to its worth.

But what can draw,all this?
Unless one explodes at a point
In time,that which forces a rime,
To be made alive and burst
alive ,forces forced to move,
Gravity of it all,new.
Unseen but felt,
We can value it,relative
To our life and what we sell.

Thus all in all God,
Is that which we be
That which causes and
Is the virtue of causation,
Whose effects infuse a
Sense and make us seek
The beginning as the end,
And again the end,
All the while seeking a tangent
To move to a different sense,
Where in elevation is gained by
Meeting another circle and another
Way out,in and out of life and
Virtual into a mental idea and stride
All the while in a world of real illusions.

The God is a metaphor,
Of superior sight,
Of the innate we abide.
Truth is not the end
But means to an end.

mortality is lost when
sense of reality is found.
Man’s work is to break inability
To achieve it or not destiny.

The light shines the brightest

An ancient knowledge,life and survival

January 12, 2009 § 2 Comments

Knowledge from the past-
Clear and still at a sagacious heart.
With nature nurtured thoughts,
In a single need all move to the mast.
In a world of survival, to live,
Dominance of spirit is quintessential.
And such a spirit is one who dares
And wishes to follow the inner will,
To move a pawn,so that it is not a loss
But a  gambit,a gain at an apparent faux pas.
To edge out the miser and the assumed sinner,
So as to create a world peaceful and “better”,
A few culled the apparent weak,
And those in fear and at heart meek,
Tried to cheat and call it witches meat.

Yet the power of life will strive,
For the chain is to reach a height,
So high that life would quail
Not at a challenge but run the circle again,
Till a  suitable tangent is found,
To reinvent a being and strength,
Alive from within,ablaze
With the strength of  the first being,
Nay capricious,but of definite strength,
Of known yet unknown origin and malleability.
Why does the light shine and not be dark?
Why so nature be born white and sight
Not bleed out and blind? 

To become greater is the spirit,
Yet how far is the star,that shimmers,
Within the reach of the eye?
What intuition moves the world,
Why be held with gravity,
When we are potent of greater vivacity?
If the soul be a constant,then expression
of  it,is everything in its legion.
Yet the eye sees and the mouth eats,
A few farther a few,few more,
A stretch in the limits of known
To the extent of a better known,
All the while embedded in an unknown,
A definite finite,something,
Nothing and anything.

In darkness,hours flow, aby
They,the propensity to enhance the way.
To carve a place,in history-
While life is dismally short,
Engraved can be in immortal
That which will last,
As long as  it wishes to be a part.

By selection,of some conceit
Notion,A deeper cognition
In into the motives and aspirations.
The relationship between future
And the past,the present is a state
Of affairs,where in one thins
All the while becoming thicker into many.

An affection,an embrace to evolve,
Lest you be left behind,so unfelt,
So ruthless,weakness is a paranoid
Belt,worn to remind us of the ancient
Way and name.Yet in it a few find
Better,for in it lies an approach,worthier
And more occult ,waiting to be tamed
And used as a step,to climb a level higher,
To make man so much more healthier and better.

Nexus between and insanity in living,
The integrity of a being to abide
By choice to his code,will persist,for
It is the secret knock on a known door-
Opening to a different world,for each,
Thoughts different and differences to teach.

And finally that which shall live be the strongest,
For the light seen  is the brightest.
Truth is not the end
But means to an end.

The light shines the brightest

Earth(a poem for four year old kids)

January 11, 2009 § 12 Comments

Someone I know who is doing a Montessori course,asked me to write a poem for “four year old,in not more than five lines.” And by far this is one of the toughest things I have done.It was fun trying to think like a four year old.At four,you know more and you are aware of things around you more.But I can’t remember much what I felt about earth,when I was a four year old.I am more sure of what I felt when I was a six year old.


From mobile

Geography has always been a fascination to me,so has history(people still wonder,how I managed to ask “doubts” i.e. questions in history class),well so much for five lines.The hardest part,was keeping it within five lines,especially doing it with what possibly might be the vocabulary of a four year old(truthfully,my English was nothing to write home about,until tenth standard,I started writing poetry more often and got interested in improving my language). So tell me what you think.Here goes:-

Earth is a round ball-

A small rock near a big hot star,

Round with blue , brown and green.

Twinkling little stars and moon can be seen-

Here there is lots to play and see!

P.S:- Those of you who have a “kid” at home,tell me what they think about the poem 😛


January 8, 2009 § 8 Comments

A few moments in time,

Hours spent within the mind.

A few thoughts churned about,

Options battle their bout.

And hours fly by,

Yet a few moments,it is a sigh

In the clock of the world,

Yet in your herald,

It is of life and living,

Pictures, alive and playing.

Nothing can melt the thought,

And the winner of the bouts fought,

Shall be the one which decide the path.

And so chosen you will move,

Till the end,day in and minutes through.

Regret not what you chose,

World will always oppose.

And the best will rise,

When the world lies,

For the strength lies wthin,

Nothing in it is a sin-

Except not thinking 

and dieing within.

And a few moments of thought,

Will mean what you fought 

And what you win,Life

Is to be lived and strive

To it,we will.


the light shines the brightest

HAPPY NEW YEAR!(a short poem)

December 31, 2008 § 22 Comments

Another round around the sun,

A year of many things,366 days just seem to run.

From the olympics to Euro ’08

Its like watching a F1 race.

From Nadal to Phelps,

Sports has never had it,this well.


Even while a few went pink,

A few others had to fight,without a blink.

Even as winters came , fare,

The markets went bare,

And terrorism,made life sad.

Even so,in a fortuitous haste,

Life went on,with the right pace.


As the moon shines,

And the clocks tick twelve,

We all shall put back the year

Into memory-

The past is history;

And move along into the mystery-

Of a new year-dreams and fantasy.


More and more to look forward to,

More innovations and discoveries are due.

As many new unknowns come along,

We all will try to ensure that nothing goes wrong.


So long and Fare well to 08,

Rise a toast to the year that was,

Now time to put back the losses

And for  a few bad bosses.

Peace let us hope shall prevail

And together let us all hail,

The new year,2009,

Everything shall be fine!



The light shines the brightest

Alive and abide

December 28, 2008 § 6 Comments

From mobile photos!

And as the world stood below,
The skies are waiting to be conquered.
As the sunlight fades,
A need to be on top dawns.
The demons of hell shall never take a hand,
And even if death might someday,
Descend from the above,
Today,it is there to be won.
Not of avarice or glutton ,
But for the joy of life,
For living,for being human.

No curse can ever take an hand,
for goodness is innate in man.
Yet so an abyss depth can scare
and make you return to the ground.
Yet the inertial desire can never bind,
And so unlike a bird but like
An angle in your dreams,
You want to soar high,
high,higher than life.

Wont feelings can go away,
From this day,
From this moment on,
There is no wrong,
Except that which
threatens to break
The fundamentals of life.

Freedom is that which you can,
Where you are;Being bound,
is the zealous curse of a virus
Whose strength of life is dead.
Though another one among all,
A dot in a line,endless,
If not for you,everything shall
End.A code, fathomless,
Yet innate,twixt,nexus,
Between an end and beginning
known yet unknown,
For such is the refection,
Surreal in reality,
yet real in immortality.

Many dreams surround,
Myriad dreams make life,
It shall go by,
And all i wish is to reach
Beyond my reach,
Move away from the circles,
Take a leap from the vertex
of a triangle and move along,
the line,my locus shall be within.
Reality is what i perceive
And when i sleep,
The world is lull,
And me with alive
And morals within,I abide by.

 The light shines the brightest

Four years since that tsunami

December 26, 2008 § 17 Comments

It was on a boxing day,four years back,that a series of waves,killed many thousands and forever changed the way,we look at the sea.I still remember watching the pictures of cars floating and the world in half a hell.From Indonesia to Kenya,the waves spread,unleashing natures fury.

Picture from here. The above picture won the world press photo award for 2004.

Such cataclysmic events,just prove that we are part of nature too.Since then a lot of reconstruction and rehabilitation work has been done,to help the countries and people affected by it.While 9/11 and the war which followed showed the folly of fanatism of a kind and the retaliation of another,this showed us that,it would take nature hardly a second,to wipe out everything.

Yesterday,I was at Kovallam,on the shore,playing football.Seeing the red flag warning people not to venture into the sea and the turbulent waves,made me think,what if i had been at the same spot four years ago?There would have been no flag warnings,as no one k new about.I put away such this eerie thought,lest my holiday mood,gets damp so horrendously.

I had written a poem,after the disaster ,i was in my eighth grade then,

A rise in tide on a fullmoon day,
As people wake on a Sunday.
Playing in the sands are kids,
Rising up are the tides.
Two five hundred plus six hundred miles away,
Started the tsunamis on their way.
As many a thousand died,
Pooling villages and quenching lives,
Are the tsunamis on this day.

In Lanka more than 30,
In India around 13,
In Thailand around 80,
In Indonesia more than 40
are the lives
taken by the waves.
National and International funds are rising
As the toll is rising.

Many on a dream holiday,
Face sorrow on a boxing day.
If the disaster was on land,well
There won’t be many left as now,
So lets say,
‘Strange are the ways of God’.

I haven’t changed anything,not even the facts,on the exact death.Of course I was tempted to change a few things,but this what exactly I felt at that moment.All those who watch a disaster on T.V. can say is how things could have been worse.Not that I want some disaster to befall me,I am happy the way I am.Let us hope Earth is a better place.

and try to reach,beyond our reach

December 23, 2008 § 6 Comments

Even as hours passed,
in the visage park,
life just crawled across.
A feeling old,
a feeling new,
sometimes life was threw,
sometimes life is new.
Even if a somber might
take the face,
within there is the thrills of the chase.

The soul power-
the fluttering of hours,
is just a moment,
lesser so,
in one of timeless boundaries.
A million circles intersect,
and a tangent to all,
is born in the interment,
on which ,once thoughts
feel the relived spark,
they grow the wings
and decide to fly,
lest we be buried so alive,
in the rituals,
which are too aghast-
it is only for the past.

Even as memories remain,
we need to see across the skies,
who says young or old,
determines profoundity,
or mere grey, serenity?
Yards and yards,
miles and miles,
yet a few spots of colour
is all the remains.
When is today,
a knowledge of the past?
Unless one can see so far
ahead,propelled by some rage
and made to write a new page,
in the works of the world,
because of some wordy hurt.

Neither is a moment,
written, not gullible,
the forces acting along
and across,can always be added to
or something new,
might just push or pull,
the leashes of the circles
and gravity might be seen
and matter might become obsolete.
Nor is it too gullible,
finally everything fuses
and fission is not too loose-
To release a few, might be,
but finally to integrate
and achieve the desired fate,
it churns and predetermines
even as freedom is more
in an element contained,
rather than a world of skies
and will,for in such,
essential is survival
and not living.
Yet without marked points,
a few can still float
and live,
for that is their will.

And such people are those,
to whom,their home,
is a place of solace-
their home within,
the one filled with
dreams and thoughts
and ideas.the universe
may seem dark,
yet there is enough
light,to throw clarity,
on the visage
and put things beyond age.

As the skies are blankets,
and emotions the heat within,
there is a sense of existence,
as something does breath in the shell.
Through it we feel and see,we dwell,
within it and with it move
across this myriad world,
We know and get to know
and many more are relearned
as we flow,flow and flow.

Knowledge is eternal
and truth perennial,
both not the end
but means to an end,
the end being
endless,yet bound
to something which
we cannot comprehend.
Until the day we know,
what is the beyond of the beyond
what lies beyond the eyes’
sight and beyond the feelings
feel,we need to stroke
and poke and revoke
and break and ultimately
make and live our path
among the all,
and try to reach,
beyond our reach,
not in vanity,
but for eternity.

The truth is not the end,
but means to an end.

The light shines the brightest

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