Saturday, July 30, 2011


For you to turn green
I've been waiting all day
At least red you could've been
But you've chosen to be gray

Sunday, July 17, 2011


oh bloody humans,
you evolving cowards
you have greed
yet you have quest
juxtaposing elements, you
still evolve.
A self-destructive maniac
in a time scale of perturbing eternity
you bloody scoundrels,
liars, sinners and hypocrites
personas of your true persons
you breathe yet you lie
you calculate yet you love
born and then die.

The Wait

A girl all of fifteen
So genial and genteel,
Swayed like a tree
At her favorite spot, by the sea;
Her giggles filled the air
With a charm quite rare;
She picked her pebbles
And blew those soap bubbles,
Which naughtily at times chose
To pop right on her nose;
Those waves kissed her feet
She tasted the water, oh not-so-sweet!
She wrote with her hands
On the golden sands
Her favorite names
And played her games
With sea shells and stars
Soothing her scars
Of a wound still livin’
But long forgiven
For, she knows better
It was not just petter
As those memories hit her
She continues to sway
By the tree, to this day
Longing for her gait
And hoping for the end to wait.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Man's search for meaning

Over the ages, I have meditated
Searching for a meaning;
An answer to the why
That glues this endless matrix
Of matter and of consciousness.

And how defeated I have felt!
This earnest quest,
Over hundreds and thousands of years,
Has revealed nothing.

On the contrary,
I have understood much.
I have discovered in wonderment
So many hows to the universe's inner workings.
I have revealed a universe full of breathtaking order
I have revealed laws,
And in the courtroom of that universal lawmaker
Everything, from the tiniest atom to the mightiest galaxy
Is held equal.
Through my seeking
I have continually squeezed out
The magic from the universe,
And like an excited child
Replaced it with fancy contraptions of my own.

And yet, even with all the momentary joys
These have provided me with,
I have remained unquenched.
This ever-growing knowledge of material existence
Has remained shorn of meaning:
Exciting but purposeless.

Yearning for meaning,
I have taken recourse to well-crafted lies;
I have invented religions, and fabricated fairytales
Trying hard to pacify the unrest within
With falsehood.
Again and again, I have devised pre-occupations
To busy myself into forgetfulness.
I have invented innumerable toys
To distract myself.
But eventually, everything has begun to dry up
And the thirst for a purpose
Has become more and more fundamental,
More and more unrelenting.

And now, I have begun to wonder,
Can it be that I will really never know
What all this meant, means, will mean?
The why to all my questions
The why of all hows?

Will I not discover, some day
By chance or by meditation
The eternal, ultimate purpose?
Can it not simply be revealed,
Can I not be that chosen one?

Or will I discover,
To my devastation
That there is no meaning to be found?
That in all this how there is no why!
That my search
Over hundreds of millenia
Was but for the non-existent?

Or maybe, I will discover
That there is a meaning
That I cannot know
Or cannot comprehend
A meaning, not meant for me!
Will my existence
Be then reduced
To the intelligence and the innocence
Of a mere robot
In a greater orchestra?

How would I,
My ego
Accept such an eventuality?
Would I then rise in revolt
Against my master?
Or, would I then,
Become a believer?