Posts Tagged ‘thought’

leaf.jpgIt’s been so many years on this earth, so many moments, so many experiences that life puts us into so skillfully that we apparently feel, we are writers of our own destiny. Today, standing somewhere in the middle of my journey, I paused and wanted to reflect my hope into the air that enveloped me under the mincing sun rays of a spring afternoon. What I found was a dried leaf that unintentionally rested on the ground with so much to tell, so much to share, so much meaning for someone who looks deeper into the threads of a fabric called our journey. This leaf certainly came out of the moist possibility that nature would have inspired to make the tree grow till it can, it would have surely seen the seasons pass by, so untouched yet grow with it so undaunted. There would have been flowers that got nourished so much by this leaf and fruits that would have resulted after a natural effort, without looking back at who offered what. The pursuit of our life is so much similar to this leaf. We are born to live, but time scathingly satirizes our effort to an end so much scripted to a moment when everything seems ceasing. Helpless, hopeless it may look like at times. But the essence of life certainly is at the end we contributed to the tree of life by whatever we could, with our abilities inspired by experiences. There is no universe that can deny that existence is not inspiring. There is no tree that can hold the leaf forever. Yet it holds it again and again, for it to fall. The essence of life is to realize surely, this truth that we do our best to whatever role we are assigned to, in this tale of eternal love.

Smile at everything that comes across and we are through.

This photograph was taken at a walkway in Sector 17 Chandigarh today that inspired this thought.


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When I walked over the dried ferns under the oak,
The moist fallen leaves gazed and asked if am a soul.
What makes this being so light and that has crossed
A million questions, and seen words turn into wind.
Now no breath invites a rhapsody among the wood,
But stand like surreal statues to falter in an old feud.

Sometimes it’s the man in the street, homeless, tired
But with sunken lips says “it is a beautiful world”;
Sometimes, it’s the golden steps upon which the lady
In bizarre, sighs on everything that crosses the cold.
Is peace so far that we purportedly seek in passion?
Death is but silence offered to every moment we lived.

Rumbling among the thistles of these autumn behind,
The feet now tired, the head pulled through the wind
With so many thought pieces and moments to lose.
Until the waves touch them, until the sand is so kind
To hold the feet and declare for the times to come
I will either live with the heart or be left to remind.

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And we judged the play with our pestered intellect,
But not with the heart that beats through time.
One dream dies, one more is born, a dream we live.
Among propelling prophecies of sultry stones so straight,
There surely will be foliage that will grow and rhyme;
What seeds we sowed, how we watered and hope give
more wings for the dream to lives so more abject,
and undaunted by the flickering thoughts of our race.

Leave now, drop the thought that burns your soul.
Not timid at all, nor meaningless the pursuit is;
Every King dies, every empire falls, victory will brawl
Amid changing thoughts that push the other piece.
The sky is vast, it ought to be for so many dreams
Trade through it, some sail, some wait for the wind.
Walk every step with trust, breathe the air of freedom.
Let every touch heal and smile more till we are home.

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In these desolate hours of an unending night,
I see the moonlit rocks cut into the steps of art.
The steps are in stone, the ones so entrenched
Through the times we lived, in the hours of heart.
Why flicker with fate, why foster nests unknown?
Why tamper the torrid tests of time that moan?

The world we know is gone to sleep, now in dream.
The moments stand altogether stronger in rhyme.
Soul knows no scented evening full of velvet course;
The women, the wine, the literature all look grim.
Freedom, that I seek, is no escape but grow my soul
Into a swan that shall cover the waves of reason.

A distant friend, a beauty almost in faraway land;
Not love, nor treason, but souls that I see in dust,
Make these emotions distant, devoid of the death,
Devoid of barren brazen boasting beats of sound.

I will meet you at some crossroad again and ask,
If it meant sense to have covered with the mask.
Am I insane, induced with engulfing enticed illusion?
Or you were the time that chiseled me into a man?

When I meet you, I will ask!

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Along the sweating air in this bizarre citadel,
There droops a bird on the leafless bough.
There is a known mirage on the path so supple,
There is life among dwelling peasant’s laugh. 

I not see now the devout saints of sulphur,
Nor hear music beyond the curtained door.
In this heat thoughts become lighter and lighter
And vanish vanquished beyond visual amber.

So sensuous, so hidden are the words now,
To spell or to see is the dilemma in hope.
Some friends are lost in this battle of seasons,
Some old ones still wait for me to hop.
There is no lake now, my stream has dried,
Vapours alone see meaning in tests and tow. 

But wait for droplets to fall not far away
And the dying stream to flow fresh again
With smells of earth married to heated air.
With hope shall this generation survive
Through odds of time and tides of pain
To further move our seeds with care?

With hope comes divinity more distinct,
And life gains the true love precinct.
Beyond this unending dream of the stream
The soul journeys through eternity.

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The world is like an oyster
In deep sea that has seen storms;
And we people covered with nacre.
There is no patience among our kind,
There is no dream for the pearl.

There is great dazzle and shine,
For the courage to wait and see.
But our kind is just tough to witness
And seldom listen to the guiding tree.

Patience makes the life in the oyster
Turn into an ever shining pearl.
Our race is for being a witness
And judge not the passing time
But to dream for being valued.
It is better to stay beside the reefs
Six fathom deep and wait for fate
And time to catch than get lost
In the weeds and towering algae.

With time the strongest shield cracks
And the bright truth prevails.
After me child to child will sing this
As our ship of faith and hope sails.

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