Birth...

Maiden voyage of a man
Is a journey but of few inches
Yet what he traverse thus
Is no less than a universe
Journey but a few minutes
Yet so dilated in time
That it stretches unto infinity
It is but the greatest journey of all
These few inches and minutes
Precursor to all that is yet to befall
A journey that no man remembers but that no man ought to forget
Mans journey from mother’s womb to womb of mother earth

Note: Its womb of mother earth coz earth continues to nourish us the way we are nourished in our mother’s womb...It is but in this womb we live rest of our life. The journey thereafter no man has yet seen...

Reflections

Don’t peek into mirror with such vanity dear

What reflects in there is just a colourful shadow
Beautiful it may be, but too shallow
With time it gets faded... with age slowly jaded,
Looses it sheen and is nowhere to be seen
So if u can dear, reflect unto a man’s heart
Let your essence drench him deep
And etched in his heart, thee, forever he would keep

Dreams II

Such is the fate of most brilliant of dreams
That they die in silence, without a whisper or a scream
In the bottom of some heart, unknown unsought
Fade away as figments of thoughts
For men fancy their flight but fear their height
So they let it go without a fight
This world belongs not to dreamers but doers
Those relentless, thorough, prime movers
Ones, who not so often dream,
No time they have to slumber it seem
Yet whatever they dream however modest
Honest they are in their quest
So dare to dream, make in your dreams castles big
Yet not forget, castles however big, is built always brick by brick

words...

What is the value of thy words?
Is it worth the gold that it would fetch, if it were to be sold
Or the fame that it would acclaim, to thy solemn name
Long after thou have gone, cold in thy grave
Or is it the prize for thy maidens heart that thou so badly crave
Or is it just the essence that it contain
To soothe a battered heart brimming with pain
Be that serene northern star
To show way in the darkest hour
What is the value of thy words?
It is but thy choice to make
What thou want to take and what forsake

Taste...

My faith in humanity

Is like a cocktail
Shaken but not stirred
In this short journey called life
I have met creeps, thieves and bastards alike
But so have I witnessed goodness strive
In most unlikeliest of the places alive
I taste them as such
Not let them mix

Ocean...

An ocean oblivious of her depth
Unwittingly so often leapt
To embrace the sky
Far so high
Unaware of the fact
That it’s the sky that in fact
Arches his back and slowly bends
To fade into her at the far end

Poor Man's Plight

Can a billion dreams be ever betrayed? We a nation of billion men, yet failing mysteriously to keep our date with destiny. At this moment I don’t have an answer to that question. I tried but failed to explore all the facets of this question. The four lines that ensue are my reflection on the poor man’s plight. Poor that constitutes the majority of this nation of billion. The question that really haunts me now is, whose dreams am I really talking of....?

Poor on the street, dreams no glory but bread
For without it he would be dead
And he is not wrong in his quest
The dawn of realism just quells the rest

A reflection on life

This post fails to qualify as poetry...It is however the way it flowed out and given the thought it endows I find it appropriate to leave it the way it is...

What we celebrate as humanity
Is nothing but a stream of consciousness
Flowing down from generation to generation
Transcending through billions of minds
Evolving as it flows along

Purpose of life then is to experience life
Transience of our mind through the eternal stream of time
Bringing us to certain reflections
expressions life incomplete by itself
Yet invaluable as no two streams follow the same path

It does not matter what you experience
Pain or pleasure
Pristine paradise or a pragmatic parody
Divine order or an entropic chaos
It does not matter...

What matters simply
Is how your consciousness mould
The eternal stream of space and time
Flowing through you every moment

Be conscious of this journey called life
Impending experience ensuing thoughts and resulting memories
And let, what is worthy of it
flow on to what we call as the 'Next generation'

Aye all men are born equal !

Aye all men are born equal...

Not perhaps in strength or intellect,

Not for sure in the wealth they inherit.

Not all are born with a silver spoon,

Or with beauty of a spring bloom.

Yet all men at the start of their life,

Have boundless dreams equally rife.

Fire in their hearts that burns so bright,

A light that could lead them in the darkest night.

Aye all men do remain equal...

Till they for their noble dreams strive,

And the flame of hope is kept alive.

Until the worldly wisdom dawns,

And they slowly learn to bow down.

Till they trade their cherished dreams,

And in the process lose their self esteem.

Their soul corrupt and self betrayed,

Slowly they fade into the swamp of slaves.

Aye all men are born equal...

Not all make it big, get famous or get rich,

Just that some strive to the very last ridge.

No matter where they fall or how they fall,

As long as that they don’t stall.

For what matters more is not where you start, but where you end,

The journey you make till you relent.

How you spend those unforgiving moments,

Fill them thus that there is nothing to repent.

teaching...

Teach not your kid what is right and what is wrong

Teach him if you can, to reason, and let him for himself see

Teach him how to walk but not which path to take

If you have taught him well, path he would sure for himself make

Give him the rationale and not the judgement

For, though he is born, he is not bound to thee

Neither to society or your faiths decree

Biases and prejudices wedged into your mind

So deep and thorough that you can never unbind

You are slave, not let him be

So if you can, set him free...

More than anything from the baggage you carry...