Thoughts Like Shadows

Thoughts Like Shadows

An empty darkness spreads over the realm
of my scattered thoughts that have gone astray
like the shadow cast by a setting sun
on the ground at the end of a bright day.

Shadows of the foliage and yonder hill,
receding from the sun and her warm light,
keep getting longer, forever until
even the plains too are shrouded by the night.

But a darkness all around lets us see
the wonders above, hidden by the sun –
the whole universe and her history
back to the moment her tale had begun.

So on behalf of my scattered thoughts, I
belligerently bid the sun goodbye!


A Sense of Love

A Sense of Love

I did not love her for the curls of silk
on her head, cascading down like a stream,
that watered the dried out plains of my heart.
Nor was my love for the sparkle in her eyes
twinkling like the beacon from a lighthouse,
that showed my drifting soul a destiny.
I loved her not for the warmth of her smile,
radiating like an Autumn afternoon,
supple, mellow yet reinvigorating,
that healed my ageing spirit’s chronic wounds.

 

But why did I love her then, and for what?
I loved her so because she truly was
what I have always wanted my female self to be.
So loving her was like loving myself for me!


 

An Elegy for the Sons of Abraham

An Elegy for the Sons of Abraham

Dedicated to the Lives sacrificed/slaughtered,
around the world everyday

 

Finally, I could look into the eyes
of someone I would soon kill and rejoice,
feasting on his flesh and bones, cooked and fried!
How hard it was, you really want to know?
How hard it was for Abraham, when he
looked into the eyes of his eldest son,
before dragging him to the holy mound?
Oh! How absurdly fortunate I am,
being the eldest son of a Semite too,
that God had replaced the boy with a ram!
Or surely, two billion people every year
would have been deprived of an eldest son,
and the proverbial blackest sheep to blame!
Woe! When will these bellowing deaths be gone?


 

Dissection of Solitude*

Dissection of Solitude*

At last, the culture smells matured enough.
Let us begin our dissection of Solitude!
But can we pry open its skin,
scale-like, hardened, withered by time,
with a scalpel, regardless of how sharp it is?

Let us assume that we can, and let us
do that with our unhurried, unshaken thoughts.
You might ask, “What if it dies?” Aye,
I would say, Death becomes us all, someday!

I am more worried though, when we look inside –
do we look at pure Solitude per se!
Is it Solitude like that of a hermit sage?
Or is it a mere exposition of a state
that might leave its startled soul blind in a seething rage?


* Thank You

On First Looking into Harari’s Sapiens

On First Looking into Harari’s Sapiens

Dedicated to Prof. Jaharat Ara, for her precious and timely gift.

 

And now I drown into the abyss of my thoughts,
the color changing from light to a deeper blue,
and then to pitch black darkness, like a moonless night.
I drown past the scuttling crabs of my libido,
past the undulating kelps of my acquired words – 
trying to stop my descent into the Absolute,
with myths and fictions, construed thousands of years ago.
But I was taught by a Waterfall, so I am
always unbent, unbowed and untamed, falling down!
And I drown past the legends of laws, religions,
past the petty states, nations and empires and their
made up histories as well. I have seen many bands
of wise chimps, exuberant in their genocides.
Drowning past them all I am one with the pure Nothing now!