Wise Man speaking

9:33 AM

The last Sunday, I met this gentleman while travelling in the bus.Ccandidly talking on various topics, he let me in on a lot of observations on daily life. One of them I narrate here.

"As a rationalist, I have often given my mental faculties, a dictate to keep an open eye. And when they observe, I report. Walking through a fire station in the morning, I saw the morning drill being carried out. The usual rounds of some troop marching and regular fire drills. It was a casual exercise, and nothing peculiar. But that is the whole point I'm making, son. It is this lack of enthusiasm and pride, that's driving our lots today. We are terribly short of PRIDE.

Think of it, how often have you felt a sense of pride, when you do your 'work'? I emphasis on Work because, that is precisely my point. We as a nation have been the fore founders of the concept of searching for the soul's purpose on this planet, and yet we are the ones who find it hard to find a reason for feeling proud about what we do. As the troops marched, there was not a single chest that was swollen with pride at the fact that his was a job worth its weight in gold. And this lethargy translates into the lack of complete dedication towards work. I'm not saying that the firemen there were incompetent, but that they would do their job for the sake of doing it, and not because they felt it was making a difference. Somewhere down the line, this feeling is inbred in our society at large."

- Ashk



11:56 PM

An introspection of choices he began,
on a level turf, upon naked grounds
he wished to make a novel beginning!!!

Ambitious for a corrupted soul,
and more so for a free spirit...
But spirits have never been chained,
but only when bound to mortal souls...

What choices did the spirits have
when boundaries were drawn??
Fate....you call it Karma,
names are only deceptions,
if not properly meditated upon...

Soul-searching is an art he knew,
mastered through practice
and preached through vibes...
his karma drew him near,
the saint waking,
its time for his morning rituals!!!


Satan's Wine

10:08 PM

He often wrote, but now in closed spaces
ever since that day...
That day when he was compared,
not by someone else;
neither to someone else...
That day when he had compared Himself to Him....

They say poets are green-eyed creatures,
even sceptical of praise, 
for the fear of mockery...
Living on their own strange decree,
they find at times a sultry pleasure 
in creating rules that are downright laughable 
to sane humans...
Maybe the very reason,
they find these mendates intoxicating...

He vacillated between the rule of Satan and Angel,
of envy and praise,
like a mirror that has unpolished corners,
it reflected him;
but also that aura beyond...

And so he cursed his words one day,ranting
and drank from its wine the other day,rejoicing
Until he started sleeping in fitful spells
like a spirit enchanted...
Waiting for that comparison from someone else
comparison with someone else...
The spell had to be broken,either ways...



A Poet in Love with Her Poetry

12:34 AM

He started with her lips,
flamboyant as he had always been,
Never shy to stamp his authority...

Those incisive eyes,
flirtatiously gazed upon the curves
where passion formed pbvious patterns
on silken fabric...
Brushing past them,he smiled
never short of indicative smirks...

How could she resist...
She had to feel to describe...

Her friends found her naked 
in the bed that night,
She was wild with passion...

Doctors called it Schizophrenia,
She called herself 
A Poet in Love with Her Poetry...


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