Religion, freedom and What to kill?

July 30, 2009 § 12 Comments

As a human being your place on Earth  is dependent on your “sense of belonging”. And we try to belong to a myriad number of groups , in various permutations and combinations , but ultimately the one that seems to scar the singular human comradeship is our religious affiliation.

To secularists it causes endless heart aches, to see humans tear apart each other. But then we have come to a point , where a few frown upon these secularists and the heads of such groups declare them as infidels or a threat to their religion and that they need to be dealt with.

Is belonging or not belonging  to a religious group all that important?

What has made religion the single autonomous power , with their various Gods?

One argument would be that man in general prefers not to take up responsibility.

The irony here is, we have taken it as our responsibility to take care of these religions , with our life and even more.

As we move into a new Era , where in we have started to accept that we need to change our attitude and our demeanour and approach to solving the pragmatic problems in living, the way we define our “sense of belonging” is quintessential .

The reason for problems is that we interact and in the process  two universes of ideas clash , the barring is too much to sustain a bi-ambitious world.

One way to ensure a mono-synthetic society is to conclude that suppression is the only way to maintain a balance. If we look at this syllogism closer , we will find that the major premise is that we need a balance and the minor one that suppression is the only way.

And this exactly is what religion has helped evolve over the ages of humanity.

I do not claim religion is the root of evil , rather that religion has been chained and is being made to do as the masters who control it want it to do. Religion in essence aims at freeing man and hopes to breach the boundaries of human perception.

But in reality the essence of religion lies in the minds of people . The majority of whom are  gullible, influenced  by the rhetoric of orators and politicians. The reason for this gullibility is because we cannot define what is “good and what is “bad” in absolute sense. The alteration done is so simple that many fail to see it – a change in the yard scale. And to change this , we first need to change the latter premise – that suppression is the key to the balance.

To redefine maintaining a balance in any other way , than the existing one, is going to be a task which is hard to even imagine – we would need to move away centuries of domination and slavery. Unfortunately , the method adopted in India(i.e. giving reservations) is a negative step. In a way it is acknowledging that we have become subservient to the pseudo dogmas. It would only strengthen the hold of the suppressive methods.

What is suppression? This is a important question to answer. I would call it curtailing ‘freedom’.

Freedom is again a word which needs to be defined. You can say freedom is that which gives an individual a proportionate sense of belonging and acceptance. And here lies the answer , to what we can try do.

We need to understand and appreciate freedom. The line between indulgence and freedom may be very thin , almost nonexistent but the crux of freedom lies in the way we perceive and interact with others. Of course we cannot interfere with the way people think or make choices for them , but what we can do is try to remove the vintage prejudices and sneers , by stopping them from reaching our future.

We should try to find our way to a better race , not by thinking what ‘God‘ would find comforting but by understanding that our decisions are binding on the future of our kind. It might seem Utopian to dream of such a day, for after all we are no more than a galaxy of cells working together to survive . But then doesn’t this galaxy coexist without any Upheavals? Of course you can say that their thinking capacity is taken away by the ‘brain’. But what is the brain , but again another collection of cells?

But of course there is always a reflex or death. We can say reflexes give us a short term relief , i.e. revolutions are a temporary respite and well that death is the ultimate end of a bad mind. But then what dies and what lives on?

This is the question , which religions have capitalized on. And through out our history this is the question used as a fear of tool. I do wonder if hell really did exist, didn’t those exploiters realize that they would be the first to be dipped into a cauldron of boiling oil? But of course they do claim that , they are messengers of “God” .

At the same time without fear and guilt , we humans probably will be out of control. But then , I think it is better we remove these fears created by our imagination and present to our kind the real threats – without proper cooperation and coordination our race might bring about its own end; Earthquakes, tsunamis , floods, drought etc .

If we care enough for the living – this is not just about  ‘healing the world’ , it is about saving ourselves. The world can take care of itself. Earth as a planet will go on for millions and billions of years. And anyway whatever you do , will affect the entire universe . And no it is not caring for the smaller things – it caring for the most important thing – the ‘I’ .

Kill religion? I don’t think so. We need to kill our inhibitions, which stops us from understanding.

Is killing justifiable?  Can you face yourself ?

P.S;- Thanks Indi for helping me in edit this 🙂

breaking Illusions

May 21, 2009 § 30 Comments

peace for the world,
peace through words.
yet the strength of an illusion depends on the perceiver
And when time comes we break it and adhere .
Let it be chains or bars ,
Nothing can stop the light from penetrating the walls ,
The eye can see through the darkness ,
That which shall glow will show
And where  there is fire there is smoke .

Wings of the mind are our thoughts
And in there many wars were fought .
We can now stretch them and fly ,
From the moonless night , rise  ; 
Our actions are right ,
Our hands never lose their sight .

Freedom of the sky ,
Shadows of a full moon night ,
The balance is so straight ,
Everything is an illusion ,
Yet we do need to live in it ,
So that we can break it .

The light shines the brightest

For whom the sun shines

May 4, 2009 § 12 Comments

Early morning breeze ,
far away the sea breaths ,
The birds chirp and fly , free.
The crimsons slowly appear to be seen.

Clouds race ahead ,
The world wakes and slowly comes alive.
Almost forgotten the day rises
From the depth of the night .

The clocks go on ,
The horns will honk on ,
The sellers will sell on ,
Tube light filled cubes stretch like a ray ,
Yet at the sight of the sunrise ,
All seems by the by .

For whom the sun shines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile everyday;
For whom the sun shines
Far away, for those who dare to smile it all away.

Walls built of stone and cement ,
Hours filled in thought ,all in vain , dormant .
Cries of war ,
Pains of lost wagers ,
Lives drowned in self pity ,
Birds who die as they can’t fly .
Lights that fade and blink their last days away ,
Roads that lose their path into dead ends ,
Bridges that collapse under life’s strains ,
Still there is someone ,
Who dares to smile it all away…

For whom the sunshines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile everyday;
For whom the sunshines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile it all away.

Winds of changes ,
Breezes that carry wishes ;
Colours which add life ,
Hues that fill the sight ;
Oceans that meet shores ,
Seas that have a deep and a shallow ;
A secret scent ,
A sweet bud ,
And of it is filled with a smile ,
At the sight , beauty , spirits arise .

For whom the sun shines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile everyday .
For whom the sun shines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile it all away .

Arms out stretched ,
Face high and pride less .
Belonging defined right ,
Beauty carved in the inner sight .
No clocks , no vaults ,
No faults , verses from forgotten songs .

For whom the sunshines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile everyday .
For whom the sunshines ,
Far away , for those who dare to smile it all away .

Day after day , far away ,
A perfect sun rises in the east ,
The genius who arose from the waters ,
Who cares for none and has no masters .
In a set path , to the beat of the song ,
Yet the magnanimity and beauty is never gone .

Every night is a prayer for a better sunrise ,
As the clouds run stray and open a day in May ,
The day may be hot and severe ,
Yet the rise on every passing is lovelier
To those who dare to see beyond vice
For those dare to arise with the songs of life –

For whom the sun shines ,
far away , for those who dare to smile every day .
For whom the sun shines ,
Far away , who dare to smile it all away .

The light shines the brightest

Ego and divinity

April 18, 2009 § 17 Comments

Upon a peaceful ocean ,
A thought did rise . 
That thought did move
Within the worlds , as a screw
Would into a wooden hollow . 

As judgements were passed , 
And prejudices concluded ,
To all but a few the truth
Eluded . Virtues and vices
Are relatives at war , 
Divided by a single wall . 
On either of that does lie
A way – somewhere , infinity
They do meet and there 
Contradictions nay exist . 
Yet till that point there does
Seem , a world at a brawl ,
Within itself always ready 
To start a fire at the scent of smoke .

Forces greater than the container
Are contained , by the sheer inept
Of those contained to recognize
A frail misnomer . The forces so contained
Do pray to the within to discover
A better lens to notice the
Venomous drops , the poison .

And once the mind does locate
Where it seems the simple twist
Of fate seems to be placed ,
It does try to frame a case
Of revolution , an air of arrogance ,
The charm of ego and deliberation.

The ego is a way to feel the abyss
And not that which we pit against those
As wise . The ego is a virtue to protect
And feel all those below earthly morality .
The ego is to break the walls of discrimination .
And that ego is a screen drawn  not to
Close love but to open the eyes of justice.

The only justice is poetic
And as each action churns a reaction ,
The world watches with concentration
And tries to balance with a fervor , a penchant
Soaked in a universal beauty ,
The song of which brings a deja vu
And belonging becomes de rigueur
For every creature .

At such a stark moment , the ego
Becomes a wall upon which you do
Stand and observe the obsessed world .
As a prophet to the mortal , the immortal
Sires the world and becomes the inner star ,
Set at a spot , showing direction ,
The venerated divine , the harbinger
To the future , the holder of the keys
To completion of an ultimatum .

With such a serene posture ,
The hand and the paper become
One . As one weaves through the other ,
That which is drawn breaks the beauty
Of stillness and the mesmerizing silence
Only to carve a beatitude beyond
The revealed rites of revered veneration –
The ode to world through perception.

And on such paper and as the hand
Becomes the mouth that disturbs the air ,
The thoughts on the ocean form
A known citation , seen within
And calm the diligent ego to mere strength .

As towers upon an unseen base ,
You do stand and watch the height
Of the sea , knowing that written
On the shore sand is temporary .
Yet that penned into memory ,
Is the message , to be visited
Again and again , in time’s rein ,
To establish the threads ,
To relight the blown fire
And rekindle the presence .

Everything is an illusion .
And so let the world be .
yet within each sketched ,
Does lie a world , the creativity
Of another illusion – reality
Mounted idealism , The final
curve to the straight column ,
The finesse of mind’s design .
And as the illusion’s illusion ,
Takes strength from its perceiver ,
The creator , it does add a tantamount
Code to the encore of the world .

Yet a while it does take
For another to conquer
The imagination and rise
The almost moribund ,
A final twitch before disappearance
And cause agitation in
The being’s bosom .

At such a moment ,
The negations seem to add up ,
All in whole and almost real
And thought aware ,
Such is the nature
That the being allows
Th virus to infect ,
If only not to let the world
Be poisoned.

And such and such is called divine
By plenty and worth a merry hail
But they do fail , they fail,
To see that it is not scarifies
And the ego’s penance ,
But that it is a discovery
To thrall the abyss by
The sheer resistance of life –
The strength of the wall
We do sit upon , the power
Of that which sits on the wall
And the stars whose lights do connect
The world by illuminating the world .

If not for anti , the ego has no existence .
If not for fear and guilt ,
The world would not be built
As it is but would have been formed
By the hands of creation –
The procreation of thoughts upon
Thoughts , the pro evolution
Of mud into bricks , of dusk
Into a dawn , memoir
Of man’s visage when he
Did see that he was free
To contemplate the way to the stars
And to carve a transient image on the shore
And letting the ocean the one to hide
That which is at the other side of sky’s brink .

The soul of life is divinity .
The beauty of movements ,
The culture of souls to choose ,
The ability to be alive .
Divinity is the way we feel ,
Divinity is the veracity .
And that truth which it represents ,
Is a means to an end .

At a solvent moment ,
The ego dissolves .
The viruses are none .
The illusions float below
And the world is a calm proposition.
Life seems to be drenched
In itself. The containers break ,
The Pandora box is overridden
As the world feels the hands’
Alacrity to be itself .

Life is life .
The world is alive .
Everything is an illusion
And we live in our perception .
Veracity and its integrity
Are the natural scales which we adhere
And as the notes of a song
Whatever pitch we breath
And ours heart’s beat
The love we feel
Will set us free .
For revolution is action
Where we reveal to ourselves
What we are , the action
Which frees us from the ordinary
And makes us to be the divinity .

Love is a essence ,
The flavour to let out the strings
And understand the world .
Love is the soul’s delight ,
For it is the fire of the fight .

As the world comes back alive
And the waves do eat the sketch
And reality is set alight ,
We do feel we belong ,
To this , that which is a metaphor
To our life , that which hides
From our sight , that we seek
For lending a meaning to life .

The joy of ego less superiority ,
The joy of divinity .
The God you are is what you will be ,
The God the world is ,
What you want it to be .
The God ultimately ,
Is the God that has to be .

Truth is not the end
But the means to an end.


The light shines the brightest

Barriers and justice

April 7, 2009 § 13 Comments

Something stood still-
A barrier to his will ;
As if efforts are meant to be laughed at,
And the world lived far away from the facts.

A day would come , someday,
Where all that was not his would fall;
In a sudden breath of brilliance ,
Life would seem high away in the stars.

Until till , everyday and night ,
He dreamt and saw them high;
His morning star ,he waited for,
The time for the inner call.

Till then he lay , his dreams
never dormant , yet for a few moments,
His mind did torment and remind him
Of days , when love scant and fray.

The wall did stand still ,
But he did paint it –
till it does fall finally,
The paint was a coat of sanity.

And as he does see it as just another wall ,
For the world, he is just another brick in the wall*
But nothing else matters*,
Someday*, things will flipside*,

An overture will break it and give him life
And as the first allegro breaks from the largo,
Life then slowly does seem to raise to the Prestissimo ,
And to the ulterior he can move and grow.

What is within is forever,
The spirit, the will of one will never
Fade into the common commotion of noise
But will rather stand out-the voice of the insane poise.

What does matter does lay in wait,
Down the path ,through the fare way
Placed by our own actions and our plays
Which do make , a butterfly ,

The harbinger of the universe’s fate.
A picture is never complete,
For the world never accepts defeat,
For its desire is to seek,

The purpose and raise higher,
To where the rising sun is lower
And the plains and hills of Earth a blur,
Beyond the bright tempting azure.

But it was about him and not the world,
But it is about him and not the world,
But it will be about him and not the world,
A conceited almost nullity,

Yet if not for him , what could be?
And where will be the ability to see
And hear him and his temperament
His staunch vivacity?

The picture is complete,
For finally The artist does paint the eye,
And the work does come alive ,
And the protagonist does abide,

None. For he is born out of a will ,
And until it is fulfilled, he will walk
The land , how ever long it is spanned
And fulfil the thoughts plan.

Independence contingent upon man,
Destiny presupposed , yet a juxtapose
Did did I rise and it did choose,
And so it will never lose.

Man’s work is to break Inability,
To achieve it or not is destiny.
Mortality is lost ,
When sense of reality is found.

The only justice is poetic,
And it is set into a music,
The matrix when one does act,
The feeling we know it for a fact.

The light shines the brightest

*- Name of songs.

The essence

April 1, 2009 § 9 Comments

At a certain distance,
Connected through reverence or vengeance.
For a few a revelation,
Others a illegitimate menace.

Far away from the visceral planes,
Where one notorious thought reins,
In a dream of a certain refrain,
The colours of freedom seem strained.

Through the senses-scintillations,
Through the emotions-vibrations,
The balance of  past and future,
Deliberately hang on the vision,
Of a mortal and bound scion.

Words may pass wisdom,
Actions may give martyrdom,
But neither can provoke, freedom,
Unless within the creature arises
A stroke (almost a epiphany,
Yet one of time’s boundless nature)
On the verge of breaching space,
Yet binds the universe,
Into the cramped room of a head.
And there it fills the thoughts,
The emotions and something shines,
A rudimentary essence,
The grit of our race’s existence.
Origin unknown,
Yet never visceral,
It is the knowledge of many an incidental,
carved into the nerves -the child
Of verses of unknown depths
And the knows worlds’ heavens.

And as such a realization dawns upon,
In those glorious hours,which life is called upon,
Everything tries to belong and then in a strung call,
Falls upon and arranges as if bound by a song,
To show the exactitude-the answer to the puzzle
Of living. Yet by the time the strains resurface,
Negligence reverberates and confiscates,
The essence through illusions.

At that,petty decorations need harnessing-
Water needs colour,
For the solvent cannot solve,
The lack of opaque it possesses,
For it is deemed unclean without spillage
For a bearded man said that was its visage.

And while the forces seem violent-
The wind torrential in its wisdom
And the seas tumultuous in action,
Humans throng and try to belong through religion.
The docile are then fermented
With ideas that man is tormented
By the virtues used
To bind him and rule.

Albeit that does come purity,
But then named
Heretic ,by some capricious decree,
Only later , understood to be,
What is really seen;
But veracity needed fire
And so it was lit
With a match upon a soulless hay
With chants of hail for the gist of the display.
Such are binds which curtail the hands
Of values and refined sands.

They call him the devil,
And he does roam among humans.
he has no eight tails waging
Or thirteen a table set,
All he has is a gullible mind
And he does exploit with haste
And then spreads like a plague
From man to man,
Until everyone seems wan
And prone to the entourage
Of a abyss and its flaming reaches,
Illusions bent from the malleable,but
Mind,that oh! if used properly is divine!

Finally as all seem corrupt
And thought dead and shut up,
Struck a ray through the condescending grey,
Creation was set alive again,a rebirth ,
Now life doesn’t seem vain.
And that abrupt force was all hailed,
And his words proclaimed
As wisdom, his actions martyrdom,
But fail did everything to grasp its freedom.

Then the devil did descend in full,
Dressed in white,peace he would bring,
No one would sing,the mantras
Of old and sally no more would
The undercurrent wisdom
(Relight by nature with
A little bit of nurture)
As the mirror reflects
The myriad darkness
And in it man would see
Nothing , for an eye
Is as good as its lens,
Mind is as good as its exponent.

But the devil was faced,
He could not rebate
Nor could he reinstate
His hold. The keepers
Were three,wisdom was set free,
Though humans have a hand on
The devil’s vehemence,
Another does hold the benevolence,
Of the spirit of creation.

The sevens and nines
Will never die,
Unless new numbers are sworn by,
And so will never the life
Be left astray,
For there is a final way,
The path which all do face
And on a gloom filled morning comes
To the surface,there they do
See the light from the negation,
It is the mere lack of contradiction
Which sets the world into a revolution.

The light shines the brightest

The mirror shone…

March 8, 2009 § 12 Comments

And the mirror shone,with the image,
There stood the love,
There was the symbol within.
The sight was beyond might,
And the will of man,was his own.
He did belong to himself and Earth,
And those who see no face in the mirror,
Are the once who are in darkness.
Switch on the lights he did want to tell,
Yet how to address that which has no face?

That which rots will always rot,
That which grows shall always,
For you cannot be discriminated
Unless you your self choose so.
If the sky looks dull and glut,
Then the spirit shall be alight,
If it does choose to see the light within.
If the tools of men failed be perceived,
Then shall darkness have a victory,
Let the spark of solitude and the society’s
Misnomers do isolate ,in fear of itself.
That ,that curse is a gift,
That not  to belong leads to a search,
And the identity that which is googled,
Will be found,in love,in what we value.

To that we walk,we parade,
Those whose spirit is in integrity,
Who refuse to lie down
And to all that,bow,
For the sweetest rebellion
Is victorious when it seeks not to avenge
Itself in the name of revenge.
To rebel is to accept yourself
And that the face you do see,
Is not meant to be bound but free.
For in freedom alone dwells love,
For a bundle of life is in projection,
To seek the stars and greater levitation.
In dreams love does haunt
To seek the greatness so perceived,
Accidents lead to discoveries,
And so love to solution of mysteries.

Love to be alive,
And to abide to your light.
Humanity is at par with destruction when
In comparison of virtue-
Beyond that lie a very very few.
Sin is sinister and love is not a dagger,
Yet to preserve itself,shall it spill blood?
Is ale  spoiling the unspoiled to give
Negation a victory and to rejoice,
The death of our kind? Or is it the spirit
Of invention,to the man who drank it
As an unknown poison and found heaven?
Or neither but a state of natural invention,
Just so to place the mind a while away
And ultimately free from the bound day?
A metaphor to freedom?

Why is man bound?
And alone his love,with wings,
Always to be flown?
Why is it that we seek solace,
Even though we know out own face?
Now do we bind words into form
And say a noise is right,
The others utter and see your rite?
What sense of order do we see,
And beyond that what do we perceive?
Is disunity,A state of mere callous
Misinterpretation ,a stray mutation,
For us to marginalize our life?

But finally does come a day,
When we do breach innosence
And climb the ladder and pass the grey,
And into the clouds we do pass,
This a metaphoric heaven,
We seek not bliss,
But mere sense of equality-
Be valued as you are and not
What you are meant to be.
If earth was to be such,
Than a beggar will not be a king,
But to do so,must learn the arts
To raise and in character appraise,
The minds of those who fought past
The fiends,those many armed monsters,
The cruel nature of human disunity,
A stark stray-hail! OH! Hail,the society!
In spirit,realize the curiosity!

Love is such,turn on your light,
And in it you shall see the face of life,
Be bold and smile,for what you see
Is what you perceive,illusion or not,
It is a de reguier reality!
In the light of truth,
One will lead,not mere instict
But that which speaks logically,
A known or unknown tongue,
Hear it and learn to be,
Yourself and in that free!

Love yourself and forget disunity,
The world will be what it wants to be.
In scarifies and sacrilege and absurdity,
It sees joy; Then,love to be,
Be not tamed but be free to set free
the wisdom of freedom,
To the rocks,they might wake,
To restore the order of insanity.
Love is that we lend ourselves value,
And that is the end we seek,
Truth is not the end but means to an end.

The light shines the brightest

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