A dead leaf

He held the dead leaf in his hand. Fallen from its plant, it was left to rot and fuel its own origin.

Or it could be picked by a wind. It can fly away from here, it can sail to the lands the winds choose and finally i might settle in a land of paradise, forever in a new joy or..

..or it might end up in a land as dead as itself. It will then stay there, till something swallows it or lifts it again. But one which is dead?

When it was alive, it was bound to its plant. It nourished it like its brethren , it was one among all, acting like how all expect it to. But is this what a passing eye feels but never the one held? Maybe it is held thus, because it chooses to?

But doesn’t one dream of the birds in the sky, at least when one is young and can race the clouds? Is it that dreams are meant to be dreamt but never sought in life? Is it just, is it fair to just die? Is this how frail all this is?

Is this a continuum, where the memories are buried and memoirs forgotten, sooner or later?

We strive for living, we fight for survival, we work together, we rebel, there are new beginnings , there are old endings, a fresh burst of air here, more heat there, one for all, all for one, will it be in the end, that we all will come alive, like actors talking a bow as themselves and being applauded for the parts we played?

Is this all a fantasy, these endless possibilities? Is our imagination a tool used to lead us from reality, which might shock the living out of us? What is living, if we are to die a baseless death? But isn’t this what we see and learn? How is this real? Can there be something bigger which we are a part of?

Is it love, that we die for? Is it misery that we live for this long? Do we all wait for the day, when we open our eyes no more? Is it that the quest we go on, offers no more, for the recesses have long outrun the excitement of the path, unbeaten?

Are words capricious fabrications, just to easy the pain of knowing the inevitable ? Is the mind there only to paint a vivid misery when in joy and a blunt happiness when in sorrow? Is the past only to be a seed for a morrow and today a retrospection where we dare to water that seed and tomorrow the day when the leafs do peek again, a visage fresh and innocent that the first brush with the polluted air does font it of earth?

So much for a dead leaf. What beauty can there be in the dead? For once dead all that remains is to rot. But when alive, all that remains is that we die. But when unborn, when a dream, all that remains is to brought alive. Call it optimism, call it human vanity, call it that I try to hide from reality and maybe it is true but I will dream anyway.

I may fail again and again. But I will pick up leaves again and in them see much more than what I need to. It might all be a soothsayer’s words, but at least there is hope of a better morrow. The plant may not remind us of the leaf, but the leaf sure does make you search for a plant.

I believe there are magic flowers, do you? Even if you don’t I do. I can feel them, hear them, see them, one day I will get to them. When I do, I will show them to you, I will not get angry or take pride for how can own that which is already owned, unless it is a meek being or I elude myself by calling it is a gift. When a leaf is plucked another one might grow, but there is more to be given for that to happen.

You can hold water in your palms but can we stop it from evaporating? Only thing left is to put to use while we still hold it.

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What are your Identities?

Something lesser than a dot in the universe.

Something as big as a dot in the galaxy.

A thicker dot in the system.

Earthling.

human being.

Asian.

A person from the subcontinent.

Indian.

South Indian.

Tamilian.

Hindu

Brahmin

Iyengar.

…….(other identities)

This is the Identity the world(i.e. those who might not know anything about me and also society collectively) would attribute to me…but is it the one I want? Of course I am all that , but I would prefer to be seen as

Something lesser than a dot in the universe.

Something as big as a dot in the galaxy.

A thicker dot in the system.

Earthling.

human being.

Humanitarian.

Thinker.

Philosopher.

Optimist

A person who believes in equality(equality – when everyone has the same opportunity.)

Writer, more specifically a poet(however good or bad I am at it).

A person who loves music.

An artist(however good or bad I am at the various arts).

Football lover.

Nature lover.

Captialist(more in lines of a Randian).

A teenager.

Indian.

Nationalist.

Secularist.

Tamilian

………..(other identities).

Of course there are a lot more which I might have left out at this point. I might call myself a philosopher and no one else might. But it does show how I perceive myself. Anyway more about this in my next post.Right now I want to know,

What are your identities?

Religion, freedom and What to kill?

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 🙂

In the end, I walk this road alone

In the end , I walk this road alone ,
People have come and gone ,
Some have seen and some have shown,
But in the end , it is me walking alone.

Roads meet and diverge,
People leave or converge;
Horror, grief, misery
Or joy,happiness and serendipity.

Yards and yards of verses written,
A few steps here and there beaten.
Fresh dried leaves swept away-
By men and dry winds of May.

In the end , I walk this road alone,
Despite all that went underneath ,
Firmly I still stand on my Feet.
In the end , it is I who walks alone.

Feelings,emotions and fears,
Guilt,traumas and tears.
Cloud racing and jocund company
The vibrations of a human symphony.

Paths which lead and paths which feed,
Paths filled with actions and many a deed.
The heart goes a way and the mind another,
The road,indifferent , which in concrete is better?

Decisions, desperation and conclusions
People,words and aspirations.
Dreams and ambitions,
Floods and indulgence.

In the end , I walk this road alone,
If not today , someday,
Let me choose a way,pray,
Which I feel in my way.

In the end , I walk this road alone,
People have come and gone,
Some have seen some have shone
But in the end, it is me walking alone.

The light shines the brightest

Beyond indifference

Evanescences -the grin of happiness .
Yet beyond the smile there does lie ,
Tales of sleepless nights and endless fights.
Brawls with oneself ,as if the image in the mirror ,
Was afraid of what it saw in reality .

Some sort of truce ,
Even though the parties refuse ,
Is reached . Lest the wakeful
Hours be all too flee bitten by the scorn
Of the impatient self – impertinent .

Moments of madness ,
The bizarre gesticulation of reverberations ,
Endless syllogisms to accept life as if bound –
Painting the mind as a knave, who is chained by fate-
So that the misdemeanor of man’s whims
Can by buried , in a colloquy of ad libbing .

Yet something does ring ,
The cords of human ingenuity ,
The urge to break free,
See beyond the tainted tree
Of illusively constructed postulates
(The blasphemous baits)
And see the truth – still alive ,
As it is in the venerable roots .

Gravity maybe unseen,
But upon the ground we lean,
The feet do feel , the seal
Of some grave connotation,
The power of a greater imagination .

If being bound is an ambiguity ,
Then to break free a felicity .
The joy of appraising
The truth , the ego less divinity ,
The knowledge of belonging to infinity.

If only indifference could be smut ,
So that , it could be ignored like dust
Upon a windowsill ,cleaned with a cloth
Every now and then , when
A party is about to descend .

Yet its presence daunts and drapes
Into our very jovial spirits
And forces contradictions
To become an addiction .
By the presence of such negations ,
The mind loses its calm serenity
And hustles and bustles ,
In hope of finding a serendipity –

As if miracles can be whipped out of nothing ,
As if the Ether was detached from the weather
Of the stars and the galactic wars ;
Yet in the indifferent, the indifference seems
To take up a perch and poison the self
To divulge and indulge in its inaction-
A devilish penance .

For all that , belief is the quintessence –
the belief in yourself , in the waves
Of self trust , where you believe
That the light shines the brightest .
Where the path of ego less divinity ,
Leads to understanding of this transient Mortality
And the gory of indifference and its capacity .

The indifferent blows a conch
As if the final wars of the world
Were to begin at this new dawn .
Yet the glories of the understanding
And the sun’s first light ,
Kills away the plague within
Just like the dusk rays smother
The nonchalance of the day
And brightens the moon for a night
Filled with a serene , calm life .

The camphorous smile amalgamates
Into a deep deep profound joy ,
The belonging bound with understanding
causes the mind to feel the zest ,
The acceptance of life and the rest .

Mad moments ,capricious deeds –
Finally a epiphany to bring heed
To the one always known ,
The song of the one soul .

The light shines the brightest

Acceptance

A burst of happiness ,
A breath filled with reverence.
The hour of acceptance ,
The world ceases to be a menace
And belonging a definite- to the sense .

Yet the acceptance is not of defeat ,
But of the understanding the ability .
For all the known worlds , the stars
Exist and emit through dawn and day ,
Hid only by the scorching sun , rainy storms
And dreams filled with sleep .

Those dreams do make a world ,
Where in the days are spent
Watching the brain run away ,
Watching our actions make and create;
Our love breaking the walls of courtesy sakes.

Alive those dreams do come ,
Our actions inseparable from our virtues,
Throwing light to the hues of the dispersion .
At the sight of such shades , our vanity
Covered ego sheds the skin and exposes
The true face of the self –
Understanding of the light , its forms ,
Right-wrong , love-hate , ways of fate .

That we write destiny is the truth ,
That we abide by that prophecy is true too –
The makers of it we are and never are we bound
By that , for it is destiny that we do write ,
For the metaphor is to fill the spaces
Left by ignorance and knowledge is the scintillation
That the metaphor emits when it feels light .

Rise and fall of the emotions ,
The verses of anger and penance ,
The thought of those fears and
The speculation – all end when
We understand the beauty
Of the palpable world .

Yet that is that much ,
That unknown which we try to see
Fails to fit into our heads and thus feel
An ultimate peace . There is something
Beyond everything . If not for one ,
There is no infinity , If not for the thought ,
There is no belonging and life .

Ultimately acceptance comes from within –
When we know , we no more need
Those words of praise or the harsh
Words of a conceited being , when we
Feel at peace with the dreams –
When the world whispers tales ,
When the destiny follows the trails ,
When the pains feel themselves
And when illusions know their reflections .

Finally a breath of happiness ,
Some how there is some sense ,
Belief in yourself and confidence ,
Belonging is transient ,
Existence of one is permanent ,
Illusions remain in perception ,
Clarity the sight of the first star ,
The end – when no one is at war.

The light shines the brightest

Once I had a dream that I was a bird

From new camera1

Once I had a dream that I was a bird .

The world was below me and the world watched me . I was a crow , who flew over the high horizon of the city . Many saw me as a scavenger but within they all longed for what I could do , roam the skies . Yet there is this urge within which I want to fulfill , which humans have already part done – fly beyond this rushing ether. As I see the moon rise ,even as the sun goes down ( to visit my cousins across the enigmatic sky ) my heart beats with pangs of pain , the suffering caused by the urge , the need to touch the impalpable( that moon and those distant stars) , if only to know that the world is tangible.

 

From new camera1

I see across the terraces , many with their aims set , they bicker with the certainity of security  . And yet as time wans and nothing but the pale moon night throws shadows about , people become afraid and train their senses to the bright lights of their race’s creation . They never seem to think about the man who thought of those lights . The light shines the brightest , but the light is the substance , the sign but not the source itself . Even as it represents the origin , it is nothing but an extension. Maybe to us crows and birds the light is a sign of a  reflex glory , felt every time it strikes our senses . It shows that one day the divinity within will purge us and start the movement towards the unseen worlds .

Maybe it already has in me . Never have we seen anything but the dawn , followed by the day , succeeded by a dusk and left incomplete by a pensive night , peaceful  with a joyous melancholy . Maybe there is something greater in the universe , where in the trinities of belonging, i.e. instinct , person and thought are the mere stepping stones to  enter into the castes in the skies . Or maybe there is nothing , but I need to see to believe . And sight can be the most prejudiced of all senses , yet at least it garuntees that there is something .

If only we can see beyond the zenith , if only our existence was enriched by thoughts beyond the stars which invite and inspire and reinvent the sense of belonging .

The sound of life woke me . Yet the world spoke to me . The vibrations of my thoughts left me to feel that I was in level with the stars and that which is not truly palpable is the one which is beyond. There is something beyond everything . The truth is the means to an end – yet what is the truth?

For whom the sun shines

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

Sometimes you just smile

Sometimes you just smile
And there nothing can hide .
Sometimes you just see 
And the sight sets you free .
From the depth of the sky,
To the height of the seas,
The world is what it is meant to be –
From the jiggle of set chimes,
To the babbled nursery rhymes,
From the chirp of a bird,
To the early morn crimson skirt,
The world is what it is meant to be , 
Always there to set you free.

Touch of nature ,
Touch of humanity,
You do feel , that skies are roamed
And that all you see is owned,
That the breeze from the sea , 
Is meant to push you to see , 
Those trees who do sway far at peace .

In the beget of all rhapsodies,
One in the sky does merge
And within does emerge ,
A world on the verge ,
Of a smile and it does purge
As the smile sets alive.

Sometimes you just smile
And there nothing can hide .
Sometimes you just see
And the sight sets you free.

The light shines the brightest

Barriers and justice

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.