And thus spoke the heart...

Is it pure evil
Or is it simply being a devil

Trying to ruin my peace,
Giving me sleepless nights
Over what really is nothing.

Or is it simply confused,
No longer able to think straight.

Or is it, as some say it is,
In need of a good getaway...

And yet how do i getaway, and where to,
When there really is no escape

For it all is indeed, in the mind...

Questions that never stop coming
Questions that have no answer after all;

Questions that plague me
At the slightest provocation….

How do I know what my duty really is
And how do I know when it calls

How do I make the choices
I am not wise enough to make...

And is there really a choice
If this is right, and that is easy
But the right bears only pain
And the easy isn’t easy at all…

And what really is right anyway
If no matter how I choose,
Some one seems wronged always...

Why must this always be a zero sum game
Is this how you meant it to be?

Do your karma and leave the rest to me, You say

But then what is my karma,
For even if I choose not to choose
It is a still a choice made

The consequences of which I cannot predict
and yet must bear with nothing but doubt

Of what would it have been like, had I chosen differently…

A devil that riles me up
At the slightest provocation

Only to wear me down
Into defeated numbness again…

…The mind is restless, Krishna.

just a promise...

i am an optimist. most of the times.

mostly i am the person who loves children,
flowers, birds & butterflies
the person who sees the beauty
in the smile of a first time parent
or the happiness of a student getting a good grade
the person who loves watching rain falling on the glass screen..

mostly, i am the person who loves to talk to her mom
every night about small things
& catch up on family gossip
over a session of head massage
the person who loves to tease her kid sister
laughing & fighting over silly stuff

mostly, i am a simple person.
who prefers to trust people
& trust their commitment, dedication, sincerity
you may call me too trusting, too naive,
& i think you are right
but i prefer to keep it that way,
it makes life easier.

yet, the more i see of this world,
the harder it becomes to remain simple.
because the more i see of the world,
the less i like it.
& the more disdainful i become.

everyone caught up in petty matters of ego,
ego that is in desperate need for attention,
immersed in conceit & greed,
lacking dedication n commitment,
ego that resorts to lies to preserve itself,

everyone engulfed in their own petty matters
of their own insignificance existence

don't get me wrong, i am not holier-than-thou.
i have my faults, more than i care to count.
& yes i do know some phenomenal people
& am blessed with precious gems as friends
my life is full of people who love me,
and full of opportunities & possibilities

yet, the more I see of the world,
the more I realise I don't fit in
& the more i see that i don't fit in,
the lesser i even want to.

& i wonder at times,
if the world will succeed in transforming me
into one of its own, filled with conceit & deceit
& ensure that I fit in & that I succeed

or will it succeed in turning me away
away from itself and all its promises
as a defeated mortal, resigned to my fate
with lost dreams of a lost future

or will I keep fighting this battle,
this battle to preserve me as me,
to find a converging point of give and take
of trust and mistrust, of love and hate

this battle to find a converging point
between my definition of success
& that of the world's

this battle with this world
this battle with me.

can i win this battle
or am i just a promise,
waiting to be broken.

पलकें बंद न करना
थमा हुआ समुन्दर चालक जाएगा
टूटे ख्वाबों के टुकड़े
सीने में चुभने दो
अगर वो भी गिर गए
तो फिर अपना कहने को क्या रह जाएगा...

Blessed

blessed are those
who have found their calling
for they know what they live for
they may be wrong,
but that matters not
for when the time is right
the truth shall behold
but until then,
their ignorance is bliss

and blessed are those
too ignorant to care
too caught up
in the process of survival
bound in their 3m peripheries
going through the rites of worldly existence
in time death shall take over
but until then,
their ignorance is bliss

blessed are those
who see that all is perception
and blessed are those
who define everything as reality

blessed are those
for whom everything matters
and blessed are those
for whom nothing does

blessed are those
unaware of the other side
and blessed are those
who have chosen to choose one
in time all shall diffuse
dissolve into the one and all
into the complete nothingness
into the ephemeral yet eternal
but until then,
their ignorance is bliss

what do i do from here
where do i go
what is it that i am to be
uprooted & deserted
am i too ignorant
or too aware of it all

for to me,
nothing seems to matter
yet everything does
nothing is too big
nor is too small
nothing too great
nor too petty
nothing possesses me
still everything does
forever torn into
perception & reality
the soul floating
above the body
a separate entity
of its own accord

perennially aware of both sides
unable to favor one over another
forever powerless to choose
am i the most blessed of all
or the most condemned.

My Nani..

The creases on the forehead

show the wisdom of experience

the ones below the eyes,

the unshed tears of pain.

She gets up with effort

clutching to a stick

walks stooped , in obvious pain

an endless battle with life

has taken its toll

and yet there she is,

tired in body, vibrant in spirit still.

Happy to see me standing at the door

Her wrinkled face breaks into a toothless smile

Her once youthful beauty

transformed into timeless grace

With gnarled hands, she blesses my head

Her weak fingers run through my hair

Her touch effuses love

I am at home, at last.

Over tea which she insists on making

and brings filled with pride of love

She tells me stories, stories I've heard

Over & over since I was 5,

How she climbed the tree to steal achaar from her mom's kitchen

and how she jumped in Ganga for a swim with her friends

how she caught butterflies in the gardens

and How she met my Nanu...

he's been gone 30 years,

her eyes still brim with love at his mention

We are all grown up now,

busy with our own lives,

caught up in the rat race,

as she sits alone in the house

that always resounded with our laughter

She smiles as I get up to leave,

I turn back to look at her,

standing at the door with her walking stick

in obvious pain, but smiling

waving me luck and love

her eyes thanking me for coming,

asking silently when will I return

and have chai with her,

that she will insist on making

and bring filled with pride of love.

And I wonder...why can't I

Why have I chosen a rat race

over the people who matter the most

Silently quelling all these questions,

I, a mere mortal, move on.

for one of the most phonemenal women I have ever come across...a woman whose faith, hope, optimism towards life and belief in the general goodness of people, a lifetime of struggle and pain have failed to destroy....My Nani. A woman of true substance in every sense of the word