What lies beyond my sight?

July 23, 2009 § 15 Comments

From new camera1

The grass seems brighter on this side,
But who knows what lies beyond my sight.

To accept and stay,
Or move and find a way to a distant place?

Am I as good as I believe,
What can I really achieve?

Where does my heart want to lead?
Why is their a need to “succeed”?

Are dreams meant to be left,
And never in reality dwelt?

If only I was sagacious,
I would be more gracious,
Till then I try to be adventurous,
But do not know if I am tenacious or audacious.

The grass seems brighter on this side,
But who knows what lies beyond my sight?

destiny

July 22, 2009 § 13 Comments

Mind,

Remind,

Revive,

Realize,

Reinstate-

Colours,

Illusions,

Deceptions,

Disappointment,

Acceptance-

Poise,

Balance,

Push,

Disturbance,

Indignation,

Trapped,

Freedom,

Contained,

Renamed,

Framed,

Named,

Faces-

Identity,

Humanity,

Sanity,

Serenity,

Knowledge,

Ignorance,

Search,

Darkness,

Lights,

Startled,

Glare,

Blinding,

Within,

Spark,

Feeling,

Engaging.

Thoughts.

Understanding.

Calm,

Quiet,

Fiat,

Faith,

Hope.

Penning,

Sketching,

Representing,

Destiny.

The light shines the brightest

In the end, I walk this road alone

July 13, 2009 § 18 Comments

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

optimism and pessimism

July 9, 2009 § 8 Comments

The world seems to rush ,
calm and passionate ,
The world tries to repulse
The being into belonging.

Thought less actions ,
Valiant and confident decisions
Through the never ending days –
Somewhere a calender must end.

Materialist needs and wants,
Bubble happiness and disappointment,
Leading hue filled raiment,
The bold look- deference.

Laughter a relief ,
Smile a belief ,
Grip- to show we aren’t meek,
A loud voice, we aren’t weak.

Infinite patience ,
Trying to make sense-
Where a blind reverence
Thrives on a sour penance;

The serenity challenged,
The need to be indifferent,
Yet to feel is human,
To think even more so.

As if wont ignorance
Can cajole a man into callous
Penchant for the stained
Land(as it is) and

Kill the need
For purity and inheritance
The right of every member of the clan
Of human-a hand in the making of a nation.

Religious pride,
A sacrilege, a blasphemous divide.
A universal good,
Killed in the would and could,

Buried with a blood dirge;
Someday it will all be purged
By a tenacious will,
Of those whose sagacity wills.

Optimism-
The day is not far away.

Pessimism-
Who does have a say?

The light shines the brightest

Beyond indifference

June 30, 2009 § 16 Comments

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

Once I had a dream that I was a bird

May 24, 2009 § 21 Comments

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?

THE WINNER STANDS ALONE by PAULO COELHO(book review)

May 8, 2009 § 46 Comments

Picture from here.

I am still trying to make sense of this book . I have read almost all of Coelho’s book till date and  this book stands out from the rest .

Cannes film festival is something we all see on T.V. , in this book Coelho has gone back stage and expains the hardships and the pusedo lives that the people live . We get a peek into lives of models , directors , actors , producers etc . The way he moves the characters makes you think they are real.

There are four central characters to this book . And as the author says in his preface , three of them get caught in the ‘trap’ . The Winner Stands Alone is candid and makes you wonder why anyone would even think of being a big ’star’ .

The reason why I am still trying to make sense of this book  is because  of the character Igor . On one hand he is portrayed as a man of principle who becomes a serial killer , in hope to winning his wife back . On the other hand he is shown as Mr. Devil through the eyes of his ex-wife .  Being the good and the bad is maybe what defines ‘normal’ , maybe . We have ‘the angle’ and ‘the devil’ in us , yet who controls the hand is the question .

The Sterotypes usually end with the bad guy being caught . Then  there are those in which  nothing about the bad guy is shown and he just escapes . The book will fall under the latter .

I loved the book , yet I hated the character Igor . Some how it seemed to represent the knife edge which lots of people sit on . Not that there is anything wrong with that , but if you are a person like me , who doesn’t believe in violence or killing others , a serial killer getting away on his private jet seems pretty hard to accept.

Of course that is the reality , the superclass get away with everything (?) . But the question which keeps popping up is , why does the book seem incomplete ? I wonder if it is just me . Or maybe reading his other books , I had a picture in my mind and this some how doesn’t fit in .

Concluding the book is good . It flows well . Another new theme explored by Coelho . And the reason why I haven’t mentioned the philosophy us because , I think , when I say it is a Coelho’s book , it is taken to be there , infact , it gels with the theme really well .

Rating – 9/10

Question which I am still thinking about – Do you think , it is right someone destorys universes /kills others just to send a message to someone ?

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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

at the beach….

April 23, 2009 § 19 Comments

Well yesterday I went to the beach with a few of my friends…here are a few photos 🙂

A ship

From new camera1

Froth

From new camera1

Holes in the sand , effect of the waves…

From new camera1

Forth again…

From new camera1
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waves

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People

From new camera1
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Bye bye sun 🙂

From new camera1

I just love the beach..when you stand at the shore , you do wonder why people are the way they are …Just look at the waves , the keeping coming again and again…And of course the horizon..I call it the height of the sea…Alway wonder what lies on the other side…And funnily enough , we seem to be higher than the horizon 🙂 Sometimes I just wish I can stay there forever…Life is beautiful…

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

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