Rebellion

Its been a bit longer than a year since I posted my last poem. Have been busy with many things in life. I am an engineer now! I have also started working at Accenture from this October 23rd in their Bengaluru facility. Hoping at least from now on, I can post things frequently. Here goes the first of the many to come!!

A little backstory about this poem: it was during last year's distressful moments of my life I had written this poem. But over the months I have realized that this is relevant to many scenarios I had not in mind while writing it. It was Linkin Park's "Rebellion" song from their 'The Hunting Party' album that partly motivated me to write this poem. So it seemed apt to name it the same as the title of the song. 

Also while I am writing this, four months have passed from the day Chester Bennington left us. It feels pretty sad that we won't be able to listen to new songs in his powerful voice anymore.  Linkin Park's songs were the first English songs I had listened to in my teenage years and the band was first on the list of my favorite band ever since. Although I didn't understand all the lyrics of  'In the end' and 'Breaking the habit' then, it was still inspiring and had motivated me. Even now when I listen to their songs, I feel glad that that theirs were the songs I first listened to. His was the voice that nudged me to traverse the 'Roads Untraveled' when I was 'Numb' from all the pressure around and helped me keep going. Thank you for everything!! R.I.P. Chester :(

You trampled us,

Burned us to the ground
Smothered our voice by violence,
Against the coffin doors, our hand's pound.

Buried in pages of history,
Is not our sad story
Your mistake is what caused this misery
The debacle that you thought to be sultry.

Burnt our lands, homes, and our faith,
Streets ran red, in blood they did bathe.
For you'll never have to see us again;
To haunt you in your dreams
Or to disturb your sound sleep.

But: we eventually will.
And when that day comes,
You'll think why you're alive still.
That day will mark our new suns.

So bright and powerful, singeing eyelashes.
We will free our land, from filth; with besoms.
Beware that day-of dire rebellions and drums.

On that day, dear Evil :
There will be slashes,
And we will have risen from the same ashes.
From the ground, you trampled us on,
There shall be a renegade's dawn.
To lash out at the bricks of fear and death,
The maelstrom; our sigh, our breath.

Aayi

Dedicated to my mom...
This poem was written on her birthday..
Here goes my first try in Hindi Poem Writing!

Aayi...

Aasuon mein tu
Saason mein tu
Takdeer mein hai
Hai mere dil ke tasbir mein tu
Bhool naa paoon tujhe chaahke bi..
Meri zindagi hai tu.

Yaad karta Hoon main yaha;woh yaadein meethi
Aapke haath ka mast khana;aap ki haath ki rothi.
Mujhe gudgudaake,aap bi hasti
Aap ki woh meethi aawaz:
Abhi bhi hai mere kaanon mein basti.

Aap karte bhagwan se prarthana roz
Ki mujh pe koi aanch na aaye ..
Mein deta unko chunoti thös
Aur kar aata Kuch ghaav naye
Unki aasuon ko dekh kar mere ghaav bhar jaate ..
Vahi unki aakhon mein khushiyan laate

Diye hai Maine unhe taklifein kayi
Sahii hai unhone sabhi, soch ke mein Kuch samajh tha nahi!
Kabhi kabhi Mann me hi unse
Maang Leta hu maafi iss ke liye
Kabhi sochta ki, pooch loon maafi
Aur ek shararat ke baad hi sahi!

'Aayiii' karke mein chillata
Tu aajati daudte,liye woh chinta bhare nain
Main poochta tujhe tab
"Meri rajayi kaha rakhi tune?",
Chah kar hi bolta main woh,
Sunane ko teri loriyaan,
Paane ko teri jhappiyan
Aur woh meethi GN pappi
Jiske bina mujhe naa aati need,naa chain.

Jahaa tere chaukhat mein
Mujhe bhagwan dikhta
Ab tu hai uski chaukhat mein
Tu apne aap ko akeli matt samajh Aayi...
Mein yaha pe roz hu usey pukarata,cheekhta.

Aur nahi seh sakhta yaha tere bin
Har ek lamha hai,jaise ek yug.
Naa bulaaye bhagwaan toh kya hua mujhe,
Main aa raha hu khud.

On the ends of Good and Evil

(Based on the Cherokee legend of Two Wolves)


My old man used to say, that
There are two wolves in our mind.
One is good and bright,
Another is evil and jealous of others' sight.

Which one prevails?
Which one do you become in the end?
It's the one you feed, he said.
One to which your thoughts you lend.

There's a narrow alley,
Between good and bad.
We are the ones who choose,
No wonder sometimes people go mad.

What defines good?
What defines evil?
The prospect of one's life?
Or the principles we live by?

Is it the situations, which turn aloof?
Or is it the time itself?
Deciding if one's good self or bad self,
That is in a perilous state.

The World is black and white.
But how to decide which side it is,
If one hasn't seen the difference?
Which side of scabbard do we see: silver or gold?

One man's tragedy is another's happiness
One man's loss is another's gain
Circle of life continues,
Through a death and another birth.

Mind confesses,
That it has a dark side.
Everyone does, isn't it?
Sins are committed.
Rules broken, wrongs happen.
Mends are made.
True conviction, blind beliefs.
Though there's no righteous sin, is there?

One's perspective of life changes,
Like the shapes in a kaleidoscope.
Like the sand dune,
Shrewd change it is.

The life and its ways always elude me
Even after these many years..
Still wondering which wolf it is,
That rules my mind.

Inequality & People

Governments come and go.
Reforms are made to widespread equality.
Only thing that changed is time.
And money, from one hand to the other.
The hands that that gave money grew older,
While there were already new hands to extort.
They wore golden bracelets,
While the leather belt of old man's wrist watch withered.
Rich gets richer, poor continues to be poor.
Inequality prevails!

(published on Quora blog Inkdrop)

The Doors

I saw the doors of that temple open. God seemed to be beaming at me and inviting me in with arms wide open. But, the doors of my mind which led to faith, in God and temples, had closed forever; the day they threw us out of our own home. To build those same doors of the temple, which were open. I couldn't help but think that this temple stood on the grave of my home, of my memories. Yes. For me, it was a cemetery. Those walls that had witnessed my memories of growing up in that home, the happy times our family had , the grief and sadness we had been through together had been brought down. With that ,had crashingly come down my faith and my love for God. They tore our home apart brick by brick. But in doing so, they tore me and my memories connected with those each brick. Because each of them had their own story to tell about me. I had grown up with them. Now, I had witnessed their death.

Time

Clock is ticking
With its dials clicking
As I trip down the memory lane
Days, weeks and years seem to be flicking.

Now
When I look back at those good,old days
The prose of life by time's quill
I wish, I could go back,
And stayed there till.
For there're times in our life
We wish, time should've stayed still.
Each of its moments we would have replayed,
If it was in our will...

Wish I could feel those hugs again
Those thousand kisses on my face
That resurgence of tears 
Those touches that made me daze...

Those fights with dear ones
The sound we did, while we sloshed
Those tears,smiles and food we shared together
The moments that brought us close
Getting angry with mom
Over an sour, unwanted medicine's dose
The way we faked our anger for that
The way we closed our room's door.

Those pangs, that failed me to dust
Now,they seem like a withered city
Past on the way of my life...
Their weils distantly echoing through air,
Piercing it like a knife.
But I've no time to turn back,
As there is no time for pity.

Whatever I wish or think now,
Past,now,is just a story.
You may reread ,remember,drink,cherish,
But never relive it,in present's glory.

So, I feel that I must stop wishing
For the time to stop.
As it will one day,for us.
For everyone.
But,till then:
Let the time flow,by its own free will,
We have ours to enjoy,be happy and chill!

The Dragon Carcass

Had varieties of dreams today. I saw myself crying on the grave of a saint,which was in a busy street of Istanbul. It was visible,only when the floor was warm; when people walked more on that particular spot. That floor had his fresco. The face was like that of Jesus. Then: the dream changed suddenly.

He and I were disposing a dragon carcass lying in front of our home. We raced back to home,to see who reaches the flagpole of the stadium behind our home first. Before running off,we casted one last glance back at the carcass. It started raining. We saw that,the shadow of dragon carcass's head was not exactly that of a head. It was branded. It had a mark that looked like an eye. Suddenly the shadow solidified and became the shards of blue glass. When I picked up one of the shards,the land suddenly seemed like turning mushy. I felt my feet wobbling. Then,with fear as well as with respect for the dead beast, I threw away the glass shard at the horde and told him that I don't want whatever I don't need.

What happened next was even more disturbing and equally fascinating. I was at a hotel where I had never been before in my life. I saw there,a group of transgenders. I was wondering about the looks they get,when they come to public places. I was just staring at one(with black top and blue jeans) out of curiosity. Suddenly, she(or he?) started staring back at me. It was disturbing to see those sockets with eyeballs (were they bulging out?) looking back at you with an uncommon intensity, like I was an alien. There I was; transfixed and dazed. I closed my eyes with fear and was profusely sweating. The person staring at me arose; and started marching forward at me. When my eyes opened,the person was just a step or two away. Then: it happened.

"Wake up!!", I heard the voice coming out of that guy's mouth. But I hadn't believed a moment before it was a guy. That guy( person) then,pushed me back,while I was sitting rooted to my chair and I fell into a pool of water. My eyes suddenly opened and there he was; exhausted,exhilarated from the attempt of waking me up. As a last resort, my best friend and roommate had tried dousing me with water,like I was on fire. "Jackass! We're already late. If you keep dreaming,even after you wake up,I'm gonna kick your shin"- said Samar. I was back to reality, finally.

The Woman

Painting by: Amrata Raykar

Words wouldn't do justice,
To that gentle flower of Eden.
That woman;my life's apex.
She eclipses in my eyes,
And predominates whole of her sex.

I dream of her everyday.
She's a wisp of fragrance;
So close,but yet unreachable.
Ethereal and divine is her being.
That beautiful painting She is.

That voice;like the ringing of China bells.
Harmonious as music.
Like the notes of guitar,
When it's strummed gently;
As though its her back.
That peaceful sound hers is.

Her eyes;
A calm ocean of emotions.
A looking glass,filled with love.
Deadly sight for anyone;
Her eye's side look.

Those gentle caressing hands.
Caring the most and at times,
Ready to carry the brand.
Her hands were leaves.

The embodiment of love and passion
My love, the elixir of my life.
Beautiful,silent like a moon light,
On a silvery winter night.

My hands tremble,
As I hold her tight in my arms.
The fear that she'll melt.

Painting by: Amrata Raykar

For my warmth,
For she's a gentle blossom.

My only prayer to thee:
Make her mine,forever.
For she deserve better.
The troubles she has undergone
Like winter before autumn.
Make me her sunshine,
Help me find my purpose of life,in her.
For only her is my light and warmth,
As well as my life.

Make me hers.
Make me hers.

The Departure

Source:Internet

She broke ;she left.
There was all grief ;than the rest.
The pain of departing ; memories of the jest.
Itched in mind, like, epitaph on the chest.

Words rolled back,
My voice failed me.
When I was about say those words,
It was them, who sewed thee

A hunger that no food can satisfy.
A thirst that seems unending, till I die.
I really wanna die.
Once and for all.
To end this agony
Who knows?
May be,I'll find peace in my death ; not after it.
Afterall, everyone deserves some calmness in theirs live.

I don't wanna die a heroes death.
I know I don't deserve it.

Source:Internet

I didn't rise from the ashes of many;
Neither did I help the ones fallen in pit.

I'm but a poor guy,
Who has just has an old shirt to wear!
I write poetry in my spare time
Which are not so good, except times rare.

You said,you'll be with me; till the end of the line.
But, you couldn't even wait to breakup,
Let alone finish my line.

This is for you, my dear love.
Only you get to hear this
I'm going to the place unknown,before you,
So that you wont get a chance atleast here, to hiss.

I'll live happily!
I'm strong.
But, I know,from inside
That I'm already gone.

You'll get to see that laugh on my face
When I'll die.
Its not your crazy love that made me do so,
But the pyre of love,I had in mine.

Goodbye my love.
For now or may be forever!
I'll meet you again on that field.
Where there's no evil or good .
And the only thing you'll do is revere me, forever.

Till then,I bid you adieu.

Two Extremes

Gazing out of the window, I wonder often.

Gazing out of the window
I wonder often.
How does it feel to be on the other side?
Being at the bottom and being the capstone.

When I'm at the bottom:
I plan to go up, one day.And stare at the world below, from the top.
But, then I come to my senses and realize I'm still the one who plans to go up.

Does it hurt more to crane your neck and look up?
Or does it ache much, .when you look down upon your ghosts of the past?

When given a chance,
Where would you like to be?
At the top, where only a few eagles perch?
Or at the bottom, where their preys lay?
which one would you like to be?

All I know is,

I've questioned in my mind.

Questions which possess no answers.

Questions about everything.

A life shaped by questions

Changed by the answers

We seek answers often

And stumble upon more questions.

Is our life just that: questions and more questions?

Given a chance:

Which one would you be?

A  question, conundrum or

An answer, a solution?

                                                                                 

Another question, to an already unanswered heap of questions!

Now, I wonder, why I wonder about these!

And, comes an answer from within:"Wonder. Because that is how you seek wisdom!"

Snippet 1

Amidst the fair of emotions
On the waves of memories
Amid the chain of thoughts
While travelling:my heart resounds a single thing-
You... :-)

The Other Side!

The curiosity to know, what's on the other side!

I guess, the words haven't stopped tumbling out of my pen nib :-p
So,here's what they and my mind made me write, again. Hope you'll like it.

(Image may be subject to copyright!!)

(Image may be subject to copyright!!)

Drenched in silence
Lost in the thoughts
I don't know who I'm anymore;
Like a land unrecognizable, after a drought!!

Lost the senses
Like a dead man in a box;
I could still feel that dread 
The dread of being held by the locks...

He said;I sighed.
For his lone.
The rhapsody so sad,
The lament forlorn.

I wondered :
How did it happen?
How was it so?
For a man so cheerful and witty
Ending up being sad and schmo...

So,it happens
As he told:
I'll tell the story;
Let it unfold ...

While I was young ;
When my blood was warm
I served for the country
For its wealth and calm.
One day,while the sun worked his charm ..
I saw the flickering over the hedge
At the corner of the farm

We had camped,waiting for the enemy...
We suspected one.
When we saw the flicker,
We swore, we wouldn't let him run.

"It was civil war,you see,"
"Rage and freedom were our friends."
But,when I think of it now;
My madness hardly knows any fence.

Woke up my fellow chums
Who readied their guns
"We are here,"
I said at the hedge,"Not there, dunce!"

I suspected enemy
A skilled,suicidal beast.
Otherwise, why would one even come close,
This close to camp, atleast.

The movement got wilder
The flash turned bright.
I thought it was gunshot,
"Bam",I shot in response and the gun recoiled.

I was confused!

Why did the bastard,
wanted himself to be dead?
Did he think it was better,
than fighting his fellow countrymen,instead.

I approached the body,
Saw it had no uniform,no gun.
Flipped it, expecting to see a man;
That deadbody,wearing mask of pun.

Turned out,it was a kid from south,
Who had lost a bet to the punks.
Turned out, what he had to do was :
Flicker the light, so he could gain his chunk.

"Forget it mate,"said one,to me.
But,I was too disturbed,to.listen to him.
We went to do the other things then.
My conscience was still guilty



Now:
Watching myself in mirror
To see what others see of me
I find myself unfamiliar
For,the half I've seen and other,unseen.



Immersed in a kind of awe.
Good or bad.
I'm still confused!

-Praveen Bhat.

Mindset...

Disturbed heart
Falling apart
Like someone mixed milk and lime tart
Whom shall I convey my feelings to?
They think I'll sort this problem out too..since I'm smart!!

Mind snarls
Eyes fall
Hands fail
And legs crawl
What do I say!?
When My words are the problem's haul.

Don't sit idle,they say...
Careful what you think.
Truth to be told
Honesty to be followed
But, when done, when followed,
They say: you're bold
And you're but a rebellious toad,
who tells others,that the Well isn't your mother load...

Sometimes.

I sit on my couch and
Wonder.
If,what I'm thinking, is worth anything,from the start!
But, the answer doesn't come often;because of :
Disturbed heart,
which was and is falling apart.

                                              

-Praveen Bhat