Priceless


From ashes I rose,

Alone but not lonely.

Only to be perished.

Brief was my existence.

But when I did exist,

I existed strong.

The earth felt my presence,

As much as I felt hers.

From ashes I rose,

To ashes I returned.

In between I was priceless.

Noone belonged to me,

I belonged to none.

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~A Letter To My Future Self ~


May you fall on your face.

May you lose your youth.

May your lose your charm as well.

May you never lose your spirit.

***

May you spend your nights on the street.

May you taste the bitterness of hunger.

May you get no warmth in the winter.

May you never lose your faith.

***

May you drown in your own sweat.

May you achieve nothing even when you try.

May you lose all your friends.

May you never lose your old-self.

***

The world plays with you,

The world tries to mold you into someone else.

I wish you a lonely death, but,

May you always get to be yourself.

~Riddle(s)~


Once a book that belonged to me

Was lost.

I searched in my room,

And I searched out.

It was gone, nowhere to be found.

 

***

I never saw my book again,

Until I found it after a few months,

Under my bed.

I could have sworn,

That was the first place where I looked.

***

As I flipped through the pages,

I realized someone has it read,

And was kind enough to have it left.

Just under my bed.

It was never the same book again.

***

Someone found me when I was lost too.

I did not ask to be found, but Someone did.

I belonged to that someone.

Then the someone left.

Would I ever truly belong to someone else?

~About A Dream~


Have you ever lived you dream?

Have you ever loved a woman so much that ,

You could die so she could be safe?

Or better,

You could kill to protect her?

Or better,

You could live the best you can

For her,with her?

I have.

***********

Have you ever lived your dream?

Have you ever loved someone so fiercely,

That you have deeply regretted meeting her,

So late in your life, because you missed her childhood?

Have you ever shared a bond stronger than you share with yourself?

Have you ever felt the helplessness that a man feels,

When his woman cries and he cannot make her happy?

Have you ever felt the joy that a man feels

When she lights up his world with her sunshine smile?

I have.

***********

Have you woken up and realized,

Your dreams are over,

And it was only yours.

Your heart is in pieces,

And it is only yours.

Yet you are alive.

Breathing, walking, eating.

You’ve everything you had,

but not a purpose?

I have.

Chapter 2 – The Dream


He woke up in his own bed, drenched in cold sweat. He felt that he was burning up. The window was a bit open like every other night. He never felt at ease without fresh air. The images from the dream was still lingering in his mind. He, himself, was not fully awake but was drifting somewhere between reality and the dream.

“What’s bothering you?” – asked the big old Oak. It had only a few leaves left. He could barely make out the tree in the dark, but he could feel that the Oak was there. It was as real as any other tree that he had ever seen. Stars were shining above his head but he could not even make out the land on which he was standing. He could only see the stars and the silhouette of the old tree. The moon was no where to be seen.

How can the moon exist in a world where the Sun has abandoned you?

“The wall.” – he replied cautiously, as if too scared to hear his own voice in the dark.

“Do you see it?” – he asked interrupting the silence that existed for a brief moment between the tree and himself.

“No I don’t see it.” – the Oak replied. Its voice calm and deep.

“But I can feel it. Just like I can’t see you but I can feel your existence, I can feel the opaque wall. It’s real. It’s the reason I’m dying, don’t you see that? I’m a tree, I need the Sun more than you do.”

“Its real then. But why is it happening to only us?” – he asked. His voice strained with  doubts and anxiety.

“I don’t know that yet. But I can tell you something that I know. You and I are not that different Kafka.” – the Oak took a long pause.

“What do you mean by that?” – he asked more confused now than before. How could the tree, possibly know his name?

“I’m merely your reflection and you are mine. Do you think, we, all living being, have our own individual existence? We all are connected to each other in someway. But it can happen that the connection between two living being is much stronger than any other connections that they have and when it happens they begin to share similar fate or destiny. ”

A brief paused followed. Kafka felt that he was burning up from inside.

“Every little choice that you make in your life – is it really that you’re making the choices or do the choices make you? Have you ever thought that why do you like certain characters from movies, books or even in real life more than the other characters? Is it because you find similarities between your life and their lives or your life begins to resemble theirs beginning from the moment when you decide to like these characters?”

A longer pause followed along with a cool summer breeze. Kafka stood there in silence. He had more questions than ever before but he did not ask a single one.

“I’m your favorite tree. Or at least I used to be your favorite tree. You spent your childhood days playing around me.”

Kafka remembered. This was the same old oak that was there behind the summer house that Kafka’s father had to sell to pay a bad loan when Kafka was only 12. He spent his first twelve summers in that house.

It was now dying. Because it could not get the Sun.

Kafka felt a lump in his throat and a sharp pain in his chest. He felt that his eyes were tearing up and he felt that he could break down in tears at any moment.

But he could not cry.

Probably it would be easier if he could cry his hearts out but he just could not. He was nauseating and his heart started to beat irregularly.

“I wish I could cry. I would feel much better If I could cry.” – whispered Kafka.

“You can’t. You’re my reflection and I’m yours. Trees don’t cry Kafka.” – the Oak replied, its voice calmer than ever.

“Don’t look for the Sun Kafka. I will not survive without it but you will. Look for warmth, look inside.”

A cool breeze blew through the branches of the dying tree, making it sound like the old Oak sighed.Kafka felt like he was sinking, he was slipping into the darkness from which he rose.

Kafka woke up in his bed, drenched in cold sweat.

***

(…..to be continued)

Everyday, Every Night


***

Chaos all around.
Humble orders and stern requests,
Friendly gazes and intruding stares,
Wants to chew me in,
Everyday,
And throw me out,
Every night.
Into my bed.

***
Peace is in your thoughts.
You are part of my mind.
You are part of my soul.
You are my oasis like nights.
Every breath with you,
Fills me in.
Your every word,
Makes me a better man.

***

I am not of my own.
I am always inside,
But my mind is not.
I listen, but I don’t.
I write, but I don’t.
I see, but I don’t.
I feel and yes I feel.
For I feel only about you.

***
Chaos all around.
Simple people and twisted plots.
Short notices and longer waits.
Fortunate accidents and ill fated days.
Chaos is in my mind,
Chaos rooted deep into my flesh.
Chaos is not at my heart. Because, you, my love,

Don’t share your room with anyone else.

Why Buddha Touched the Earth?


*******

On a moonlit night

Under the starry sky,

He sat under a giant fig.

He has been suffering inside longer.

Truth of life was all that he did seek.

He was born to be a king,

To elude hunger, sadness and poverty.

Yet he sat under a Fig,

Away from all his belongings,

Fighting fearsome battles inside.

He fought the battles for many a days,

Winning over all of his six enemies.

He conquered fears that the demon brought,

He placed his left hand on his lap and

Touched the earth with his right.

The earth witnessed as he defeated his demons.

On the forty ninth night he found the truth.

He set himself free from his desires,

He set himself free from the cycle of rebirth.

He touched sky even though his feet never left the earth.

Desire brings actions we regret.

The purpose of life is to make us perfect.

Until we are perfect, the cycle of endless rebirth repeats.

He broke the spell and set himself free.

The earth witnessed a miracle under the fig tree.

~Apogee~


Enough money to buy comfort,

Enough food to feed the mouths.

Enough poverty to shatter faith,

Enough hunger killing sinner’s doubts.

Enough time to explore all,

Enough reasons for heart to beat.

Enough seasons and we don’t change,

Finding enough reasons not to leave.

Enough options to make a choice,

Enough chances to make it right.

Enough we say and stay the same,

For it’s ourselves that we need to fight.

Random # 132


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One seeks something big inside.

When one doesn’t find it there,

One looks outside-

To find something big enough

To cast a shadow on one’s self.

One seeks something big,

A mountain or a sea

To make ones self realize-

How little and fragile One’s existence is.

One does not realize

Finding in the flashing lights of a club

or inside a glass of wine-

Hardly a fix,

Never a cure.

One tries to find something big,

only to make one’s self

Realize how little and fragile

One’s existence is.