Thursday, September 18, 2014

Catastrophe

Anant said that I was at the right place.
May be I am.
I feel smug drinking this concoct of lights and dark.
I would never be at peace in woods,
nor would I be complacent in this hood.
I would carry on with my way of life,
with revolting pragmatisms and gut-felt rights.
O'Hara called these as catastrophes of one's own personality.
I'm with him there waiting for them to seem beautiful again.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Parallel Rails

The teacher in my soul is not accessible.
Who do I turn to and where should I look ?
The parallels have grown further,
the societal brain and the man's heart are at war.
I feel seen through,
judged by the Eiffel in Waterloo.
Why do I read about managing the coffers,
when all I care about is the spark that they fund to smother.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Mother

Anxious about how things will turn out,
at age and time when Mother could't tell
as she could in '79.

The questions were essentially the same -
calming the worried heart, building the wall,
alienation in far land.

Answers about being trusting and righteous
when it all seemed like a walk,
on ice so thin.

A piece each kept with the past muses,
mother, will she understand your baby
could live no different.

Mother do you think they'll like these words?

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Them

For them it wasn't about acquiring one another.
It was about co-existing in harmony.
It was miles from the contemporary ways of the society,
and there lied it's twinkle.
Breathing her, feeling her, living her and with her.
It was a love that didn't wane.