"Samay~the Poet Philosopher"

Let Nature

2012-01-31T11:42:00.000+05:30

Let the grass grow on the plains

Glow green with morning dew

Dance dizzy to the whistling winds

Let deer’s nibble on its tender leaves

Tigers hide and prey

Let nature reign

Men, time has come to return her domain

Lest she shall soon, seize it all

With vengeance make men pay her due

For whom do I write

2010-10-03T22:47:00.003+05:30

'Ah' who doesn't like a bit of fame

For what is said, is said to be heard

But if one were to ask

Would I say still, what I have to say

If there is indeed no one to hear

I would say 'yes'

For even in the black, blank void

What I say, echoes onto my soul

For I am my eternal audience

life and death

2010-08-31T14:18:00.002+05:30

If death is dark, life is darker

For no one sees death but once

Most however pass through life

Without a whiff of her essence

what do u feed

2010-08-31T00:11:00.002+05:30

Most work to feed their stomach

Hard they toil all their lives

Needless to say they survive

However harsh the world may be

Some but favour to feed their heart

Sing their way through their lives

Needless to say they find happiness

However sad the world may be

And there are few who feed their soul

Dedicate their lives to some pristine goal

Needless to say they leave a mark

However dark the world may be

Paths

2010-08-19T10:01:00.004+05:30

Many men, many lives

Transverse through the same flux of time

And through their minds infinite possibilities arise

Some in anger smoulder take paths of violence and crime

Some in care and compassion take noble paths sublime

Some learn to progress others to descent

Some learn to bond and belong, others to dread and dissent

Some to speak few to listen

Some see light others see darkness

We live the same time, but each taste it different

And what we derive decides destiny of ours

Decides where we head, which paths we find

Time

2010-08-17T13:26:00.002+05:30

Time is like a river, she never stays

But she is chaste, never betrays

It is just that, some see her going,

Slipping away

And some see her coming,

Opening the way

Dreams III

2010-08-10T13:39:00.005+05:30

Don’t chase dreams

Like children chase butterflies

On sight of each they scream

Forget where the other flies

If like a hunter thou seek

In the whole sky sight

Just the one thou wish to keep

Then thou can catch even eagles in its flight

If not a hunter thou be

Choose well then the soil thou plough

Sow the right seed and thou shall see

In time dreams flowering in thy meadow

lost

2010-08-02T19:07:00.002+05:30

Every one wanders once in while
But to be lost forever beguile
In the multitudes of path
That life unfolds every moment
Never to know what you were meant for
What live had in her yore and what she is about to pour

To live half asleep, never let your consciousness discover
The mysteries of existence amidst its myths
What shame it would be
Each day waking up and not knowing
What makes today different from yesterday?
And what tomorrow holds in its veil

What difference it would make
If tomorrow you wake up from bed
And not lay their dead
Bar the tears that would be shed
By families and friends who usually regret
And with time slowly forget

Your story to date is better untold
For it holds nothing in its fold
No memories of gold, no dreams in the mould
No triumph, no fall not even regrets
Days have just slipped beneath your casual neglect
No history you make, No future you wake
You just live by for living sake

2010-08-02T18:40:00.003+05:30

If I get lost in the crowd
I fear no one might ever discover
The odd glimpse of brilliance
That my thoughts display
But it’s the fame I fear further more
For then all those careless ramblings of mine
Will bathe in its undue glory
Assigned meanings that they never carried
Inferred and revered as the famed mystic’s mystique
Alas under their weight would languish
My odd thoughts of brilliance

Horse and theButterfly

2009-10-20T22:02:00.006+05:30

The horse asks the butterfly
I saw you here at dawn
Dancing around these flowers callously playing by
While I saddled for my journey far drawn
I travelled today a hundred miles
Galloped all through not rested even for a while
End of the day what I can with content say
With hard work sweat and toil I have earned my hay
And here you are while you can fly
From every work you simply shy
There is no purpose in your unsteady flight
Although I not like to pry, but I still wonder why
Butterfly smiled and fluttered for a while
Close to the horse observing his plight
And right when the horse shook his head and nodded in despise
Butterfly broke her silence and hummed in her voice nice
While you galloped around and covered distance abound
You saw nothing beyond the track that you were bound
I did dance around and never left this surround
While you paced around I was rather slow
But I enjoyed all this while beauty that nature endow
I have seen flowers bloom their fragrance loom
And I have seen them wilting and falling the coming noon
I have seen the morning dew glowing
And seen my young ones growing
Felt the joy of life and the ecstasy of love
And in this very day the dance of death
So many of my kin birds have preyed n fed
I have learned to live for the moment now
Make each moment of my existence count
Your journeys are bland but for those slants and mounts
Part that you strained and part that you eased along
For you life is a race, for me it’s an eternal song
For me life is a celebration and not a destination
So I don’t run but dance along
I carry its colours tattooed on my fly
Intoxicated by its nectar I flutter by
Long before the next dawn
I would be forever gone
I have yet no regrets or fear
For I live my life to the fullest dear

Birth...

2009-07-06T01:11:00.002+05:30

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

2009-07-04T23:18:00.003+05:30

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

2009-06-30T22:11:00.003+05:30

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...

2009-06-25T00:33:00.004+05:30

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...

2009-06-21T23:01:00.005+05:30

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...

2009-06-21T21:20:00.005+05:30

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

2008-09-17T01:56:00.003+05:30

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

2008-09-17T01:50:00.004+05:30

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 !

2008-07-10T00:36:00.007+05:30

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...

2008-07-07T21:58:00.002+05:30

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...

Drone Song

2008-05-24T12:07:00.007+05:30

I woke up today with a drone song
Lacking its usual peace, one with intent too strong
A wasp seeking his way through the window pane
Fighting an insurmountable enemy in disdain

It was a bright sunny day
Nature replete in her hue and hay
He did not knew what made him stay
Away from the fresh bloom flowers gay

He flew hard with all his strength
Not for a moment ready to relent
Hitting hard on to the invisible wall
Bringing his momentous* flight to stall

Yet he came back again and again
Trying hard to make some gain
As I went on with my chores, my life’s struggle galore
I hoped he would find his way, fly off soon from the open door

Time flew by and it was noon
He was still there in my room
Struggling still on the window pane
Not willing to quit his quest insane

In pity I wanted to open the pane
Let go free the foolish bane
I did not however; I wanted to see how it ends
Wanted perhaps to see him break, to his fate relent

Evening when I returned, the noise was gone
I hoped he found his way around
But he was right there lying

Besides the window pane dying

In subtle remorse of my mindless deed
I opened the pane and got him freed
He was but now unwilling to fly, not even ready to crawl ahead
He will not make it now...he is dead for his hope is dead

--------------------------------------------------------------------

*Momentous, for it is the struggle of his life

In the realms of our limited wisdom, we all constantly strive

So many such walls we take head on

Fight it hard unable to move on

Life is perhaps a story of such struggles

A journey through a terrain of troubles

2008-04-01T23:47:00.002+05:30

Noise of the unsaid words
Echoing within the realms of mind
Undying reverberations of silence
For what is said fades away with time

Unsaid but never fades...deep within it forever stays

A friend is gone again without saying goodbye

2008-01-28T21:27:00.000+05:30

Not sure of dawn tomorrow
If it were my last supper
These words the last I utter
Or… from relentless death there are few more breaths to borrow
Flight of life so inconsistent in time
Its musings like music of wind chimes

A friend is gone again without saying goodbye
It’s not in the nature of man but life
She belongs to none her treachery so rife
So why be sad why cry
Leave of friends one can’t be sure of one’s self
Never know when it is time to say goodbye

Key to Success

2008-01-11T00:07:00.000+05:30

It is not the mediocrity of genes
But of thoughts and dreams
It’s not flesh where lies the grit
Sense of strength springs form the spirit

There are no horizons of dreams
No boundaries no limits extreme
Can see till where you dare to see
Forsake your fears and you are free

Dreams yet are not an end in itself
‘Success’ seldom is bought off the shelf
Lot of toil and lot of sweat
It takes lot of pain to pay dreams debt

Settle yet not for less than the best
Life is once and too short to rest
you have the spark that can lit up the dark
So move on dear…leave on the sands of time your footmark

~ Freedom~

2007-12-29T02:03:00.000+05:30

Preface...

'Are we really free'? I feel that we bind ourselves over the time in various constructs. Imaginary boundaries which regulates our behaviour and within which we live our lives, we are for that matter slaves of our own beliefs. Constructs that are wedged into our mind from the very childhood by our parents and institutions like schools and society at large. These boundaries perhaps are needed as it facilitates men to coexist together and limits conflict to a large extent. Despite the obvious merits it however remains fact that we as men are not really free. We are indeed enslaved and the society starts this process of enslavement from the very time we are born.

This poem is an attempt to describe how a man is born free but is slowly chained by the society. How biases prejudices and fears are wedged into the naïve human mind, indoctrination that eventually leads to our enslavement. It’s a kind of hypnotic bondage we are bound into; we are made to believe a lot of things with no logical or rational base for it.

When I talk of fellow men it includes my parents my teachers and my friends all those who are part of this process of enslavement. It is for sure not a conscious act of subversion form them, but they are so much a slave of the system and the society that they go about doing this act of taming rather unconsciously. Be it religious indoctrination or any other belief that is passed on to the next generation, is an act of crime…felony on fellow human.

We must train our kids in reason train them to judge for themselves. Knowledge must be passed on and not blind beliefs. Let men be free to judge for themselves what is right and wrong. Yes, to reach such an elevated state of consciousness parents need to train their kids. They are not to be handed over in a platter some age old set of right and wrongs. They must be instead given the right rationales and they must be led to reason it out.

I believe that all rational men will end up having almost the same set of virtues and these virtues will definitely be staunch and uncorrupted. They will for sure help men work together and grow together. All relations will be symbiotic rather than parasitic. All men shall produce their worth and share rather than sacrifice themselves on the name of divine goodness and altruism. In true sense men will be free and so shall be the society that sprouts out of them.

The poem has a reflection of Ayn Rand and Nietzsche’s philosophy. I quote -

“It is not in the nature of man--nor of any living entity--to start out by giving up, by spitting in one’s own face and damning existence; that requires a process of corruption whose rapidity differs from man to man. Some give up at the first touch of pressure; some sell out; some run down by imperceptible degrees and lose their fire, never knowing when or how they lost it. Then all of these vanish in the vast swamp of their elders who tell them persistently that maturity consists of abandoning one’s mind; security, of abandoning one’s values; practicality, of losing self-esteem. Yet a few hold on and move on, knowing that that fire is not to be betrayed, learning how to give it shape, purpose and reality. But whatever their future, at the dawn of their lives, men seek a noble vision of man’s nature and of life’s potential.”- Ayn Rand

"It is not the works, but the belief which is here decisive and determines the order of rank--to employ once more an old religious formula with a new and deeper meaning,--it is some fundamental certainty which a noble soul has about itself, something which is not to be sought, is not to be found, and perhaps, also, is not to be lost.--The noble soul has reverence for itself.--" Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.

Am I free…this question haunts me
Can see no wall no chain that binds
Yet from deep within my spirit plea
Body is free but mind confined

Like a bird that can fly yet bound to flock the same path
For freedom is not in wings but flight
To follow the course of ones own delight
Not subjugated or proscribed in fear of divine or worldly wrath

Born free I was to humanity
Tied with nothing more than an umbilical cord
My naïve conscious unblemished, free of all discords
Knew nothing of worldly vanity and its insipid insanity

Needs alas, my dependence on fellow men got me enslaved
Allow captivate my conscious before it grew strong enough to construe
Differentiate right and wrong and judge what is true
Customs and traditions, goodness and ill into my conscious staved

In malice my fellow men or in an unconscious subversion
Mitigated my mind to a mellowed subsistence
My essence slowly driven into despondence
Pushed me to the servitude of hell in the name of some supreme salvation

And today I see myself crucified on the so called altar of humanity
Pinnacle of goodness it is called, yet by what standard I don’t know
If man is not an end in himself and his virtues is not what humanity endow
What goodness, what virtue it is in damning self and revering some hypothetical divinity

What virtue it is in sacrificing oneself for fellow men
To let parasites feed on your flesh, your blood and more so on your sweat
To let go on the name of some greater good all that you deeply covet
To be a salve carrying the burden of humanity, and yet be mocked as ‘free men’

~Dreams~

2007-12-23T23:01:00.000+05:30

Dreams the fleeting flight of thought
Specious bliss so often sought
Attach but to desire pure
Construct beyond the choice sure

Changes tint every stint
Taste differ every pint
Changes face an eternal maze
Beyond logic or reason gaze

Thin air a castle wrought
Cost none dreams are brought
So desperate we seek pleasure
Pain beneath fail to measure

To win a toss when coin still in air
Beneath enchanting hope lies despair
No betrayal but just fair
For everything just has a due fare

~Light~

2007-12-23T00:18:00.000+05:30

Yes there is a light brighter than sun
Yet, no scorch no heat that burns
Spread across the time and space
Eternally stays and never fades

In the mortal world immortal soul
Seek the light to show the goal
A purpose when all purpose gone
A hope to make it carry on

Brilliance abound yet not seen
But for the eyes yet so keen
To see for once the divine grace
Free for once from the eternal maze

On Training

2007-12-23T00:09:00.001+05:30

It’s not steel that maketh sword
But the fire in which it is wrought
Every strike of hammer counts
Making sword that in war astounds

It’s not wit that maketh man
Nor the strength in his arms
Trained he is to prove his worth
Reach out for sky from the earth

In artist’s hands does the beauty lie
Not in sculptures he maketh by
Magic that his hand play
Bring forth life in shapeless clay

What is man if not trained?
Morales and virtues not ingrained
On his instincts he would feast
Nothing more than a cunning beast

With care and love like a sapling grown
Into flesh a soul is sown
How much sweat and how much pain

Man is all how he is trained

Drive through the Mist

2007-12-22T23:52:00.000+05:30

Driving through the mist in a haste
Vision blurred not sure where I head
Beauty all around unruffled untouched chaste
Pleads to stop, be with it for a while
Eyes yet strain just to see the unforgiving road ahead

The cool breeze filled with moist haze
Drenched of scent wild flowers fresh
In my ears gently sung
Pray slow down not rush
Feel the breath a while as it fills your lungs

Shying glance from her beauty serene
I sped past the meadows green
Dark dense woods basking in laze
Cajole me to slow down the pace
Bare my soul to her splendid grace

I raised my tinted pane to cut her dissuading gaze
Can’t slow down for a moment stop
Let go the dreams for so long I chased
Need steer clear let no affection crop
So I fled, through the mist I sped

Travelled so long so fast yet see no end
Journey so beautiful has turned into an ordeal
Life with no satisfaction no joy spend
Break the shackles of dreams surreal
Forget the end; for once relent…Fall in love with the journey instead

Universe~An Image in Time

2007-12-22T23:40:00.000+05:30

All laws of nature n perceivable dimensions
All cosmic creations just conscious conceptions
The arrow of time seemingly rigid in direction
Binds in its flight all of natures regulation

Time is thus the beholder of reality
All of quantum physics, entropy and gravity
Venerable their veracity till time not vacillate
Will fray and sway pray it fluctuates

Beyond the wildest flight of thought may lay reality
Many arrows of time through the singularity
Parallel universes one imploding other exploding
Mirror images in their contrast alluring

For every black hole vanishing into singularity
There is a big bang exploding into duality
Death for one… life for the other
In realms of time all bound together

On Cosmos~The Brahman

2007-12-22T23:23:00.000+05:30

Capturing in words an image of creation
The smile of the cosmos the divine jubilation
Complete yet becoming, transforming, manifesting
Consummated in continuously creating

Begins in nothingness in an inexplicable singularity
Extends into infinity in an intertwined duality
Matter and energy meshed in a matrix of space and time
Constructs conceivable by conscious sublime

He is a slave of his own enthral
Bound by the law that binds all
Feeds on self to recreate, regenerate
He is yet one who never procreates

He is one and he is all, nothing lies beyond his premise
Continuously recreating… seeking some perfection perhaps… happy in this eternal reprise
I bow to thee o conscious of conscious

Yet…you are you and I am I complete full and divine

~On Reality~

2007-12-22T23:06:00.000+05:30

Complexities of human mind
Perception all constructs, self biased subjective
All can see yet all are blind
There are no right and wrong no absolute objective
Infinite parallels of existence…never intertwine
So follow the path you believe to be true
Not leave your life for someone to construe
You are you and I am I…complete, full and divine

~Preface~

2007-12-22T22:49:00.000+05:30

This Page is a gift of love and words that I sow on to this soil are not careless musings but seeds of conscious effort and toil.Endeavour is to emboss my thoughts in such strong fabric of words that they stand the test of time, never wither and never fade. I must admit I am not really adept in doing so. I would rather describe myself as a scribbler, a poet of leisure…these scribbling describe me best

I know I am not a poet great
But for rhyme I can’t fake
I write to ease my heart
Vent for restrained feelings to escape

It’s how I feel that it shows
Pain and content both it endows
Just logging what my heart feels
From deep within what ever reveals

There are no rules that can define
Desires crude how words can refine
What makes u crave and what contains
Emotions are not for words to explain

In poetry I unabashed unwind
Nascent thoughts that stir my mind
No inhibitions I keep
Laugh free and unabashed weep

I was however drifting into a depression; a stark sense of purposelessness was gripping me day by day. I had come to believe that life has no purpose. It is nothing but a progressive mathematical equation which is rather too predictable and repetitive. An odd sickening feeling of ‘I know what is coming next’ was killing me slowly.
It is when I wrote these lines…

I write almost everyday
Not that I have something to say
Each day a thousand word spurn
In search of purpose they burn

There are moments of depression
And there are moments of revelation
Some drowned in pain other buoyant with pleasure
Not one yet worth to treasure

Day filled with time and time hollow
Like poison I slow swallow
I want the day to pass don’t know why
It’s the same plight, the day that would follow

People as shallow as their shadows
Can spend a day in search of a smile
Amidst a lifetime of eternal woes
A joy that last not more than a while….

And…here I burn with all my knowledge deep
Reflect on to abstruse perplexed
Is there a reason behind?
Or all of it is just convulsion of my mind…

I would say that I got lucky that I met someone who gave me a very different perspective of life. She showed me the relation between conscious, creativity and happiness, mans purpose as producing his worth, his toil and his conscious creations. This page is not for anyone else but a dedication to myself, my endeavour to create my worth …my purpose