Archive for April 2007

Ring of Silver

April 30, 2007

A woman walked past me, her belly-button adorned with a silver ring. That was not the point. I forgot her as soon as I saw her except the silver ring.

I’m tired of sitting on this iron bench, bubbles of old paint sticking to my pants. What more could I do?

I’m a sick man. I think I am dying soon…but who’s not sick? What’s not? The society I live in is in pain, its sickness laminated with facade of misbegotten pretense, an extension of society I do not choose to live. Yet, I’m in it, drawn towards it, playing the same game, each of us swirling toward that whirlpool of doom. The end is near…

I must keep going, I must keep smiling, I must keep breathing. A lungful or more of this putid air won’t kill me. Nor would it make me alive.

The silver ring on a woman’s belly-button is the only silver lining of our time…I weep tears of joy.

Hope and a Mirror

April 29, 2007

Mirror, oh you mirror…

How many times do I look into you with the hope and belief that I look nice and better than others? How many times have I smiled at you? How many times have I flashed my teeth at you? What did you think of me? What do you think of me?

Truth be told, image in the mirror would be far removed from what you think you are.

Images…How I present myself to others. You know better, oh you mirror, my mirror. Why do we live? I ask you, my dear mirror, yes, for what do we we live this life?

You live for others. For them. You dress for others. For them. You wear that shirt and that pants for others, for them. You carry that mobile phone, wear that watch, wear that smile for others, for them…

I know. I must not know…

Rage

April 27, 2007

Anger minced his coolness. Tiny pieces of temperament scattered across the moods of people gathered around him. Rage bargained his clarity and blinded his reason.

Rage consumed his intelligence. Intelligence consumend his mind. Wisdom consumed rage…

You and I and them

April 26, 2007

‘What’s this place?’ you say.

‘What’s this place?’ I say, and we hold each other in the hollow cavern of this dried womb, not believing ourselves. We are seen as the lost cause amongst those seeking higher grounds. We already knew the truth, long time ago. Forgotten now. Too bad. So sad.

You look at me. I look at you. They look at us. The only thing we can do…basking in their ridiculous ramifications. I walk only to follow you, a poor traveller. You walk to follow me, a poor guide. Yet, what have they? What are they?

Fished out of my memories are my dreams – drowned and deranged in face of their morality. Tears well up in my eyes, they do not fall down. Passion dried, tears have no use. I do not cry. You do not. Do they?

We look at each other. Somewhere along the way, we almost knew each other, they almost knew us.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ I say.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ You say.

‘What’s wrong with them?’ they say.

Malady of the Ridiculed

April 25, 2007

Something tells me something’s terribly wrong. I look around, familiar place, nothing seems wrong. Just a group of people bleating vehemently over their past glory: lost and gone. How they chirp over trifle matters? Mortals! I can only manage to laugh that reeks with contempt, their contempt.

‘Look around you,’ I feel like saying, shouting, funneling words – agast and riddled – through their ears. They will not listen. I am sure of that. They will look at me with contempt and loathe my existence, their existence.

Petty minds. Petty lives.

Now they turn and look at me, look at me with hatred, maybe love too. Silence. Not a word was uttered. Glorious. They seem to fumble…seems they have lost their thoughts. I lost mine too, long time ago, and I have found it again.

But something is wrong. Not me. Not you. Maybe them. Something is wrong with them, they who rule the world, they who think they know everything, they who look at you and me and think you and I are just a ridiculous and a madman…

Let it be…

Assertion

April 25, 2007

When reality demands a reason,
I look for support to establish myself right…
I find myself…hanging…like a pendulum,
And I boast my life of its unrealized best.

The worst has conceded its hold, I believe,
And I see glory that could be mine…
But, what glory do I tell or cherish?
I find no glory, I see no glory,
only contaminated past!
The past and its fading light,
and I dwell there, hopefully.

There appears that shadow,
faintly visible – it seems –
That is not my shadow…no… it is not mine…
Or, is it? I don’t know,
is it a shadow from the past? My past?
Could be the shadow of the diseased…
past of ill repute!
Where my glories could be plagued there –
and even buried,
And only shame does tell me of my name.

And suddenly, I hear myself say, all to myself,
‘What am I?’ ‘Who am I?’ ‘Where am I?’
This world is a big place…yet I find no space!
I feel lost and detached and cornered and confused.
I look around and I fail to find me, always,
I am not there…I am not here…I cannot see my face,
Where am I? And I feel hurt and alienated.

I look into the eyes of people in a crowd,
Trying to find me, seeking to know me,
I am lost. I sink into them, like a stone into an abyss,
I feel disintegrated…I may drown.

And I find myself hiding in the face of others,
Hiding amidst the strangers, among my own self.
Sometimes, I come face to face with myself…
It is horrifying to see yourself…it is implausible,
And I remove the mask, trying to reveal my identity,
And there again… I am lost…I feel lost.

In the Blue

April 23, 2007

What’s wrong with me? I do not feel a thing…

No love, no hatred, no envy, no thoughts…yet, I am disillusioned, freakishly unhappy with the way I try to live this life.

‘Live each day as it comes,’ said a sage, maybe long dead and gone…Did he try it?

Live the moment. No past, no future…just NOW. There is not even this now. ‘Nothing stays, everything flows…’ says a Greek Philosopher. I share his thoughts, not his wisdom.

We always look up for answers. Are all the answers up in the vastness and emptiness of the blue sky? Why don’t we look down for answers where the basics are? Down where our gaze reach? Down where substance lies solid and firm?

Yet we are downcast with doubts!