If

Some poems leave behind an indelible mark on the memory. There effect never seems to fade. One such poem is If written by Rudyard Kipling.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with wornout tools;

Deep Within

Longing of the heart
is deepening,
for the goal above,
ever widening,
leaving lower chasms
in sinking.

Wishes, desires and
ambitions are tempting,
Holding the soul from
onward marching.
In the vicious cycle,
I am struck in.

Materialism pulls me,
Spirituality liberates.
The sound of silence
that resonates,
Can be felt only
when I meditate.

The Divine light
beckons within me.
But my eyes
could not see.
Help me, an ignorant
son of thee.

Oh Master! of my life,
take me away
for the abyss is
too deep, I may sway.
I trust you completely but
not sure of my way!

Where…XXI

Where the world
around me crumbles,
and I stand helpless.
Where few chauvinists
feed their self-interest
and create a mess.
Where the so-called
democracies are on paper
but governments in recess.

“Hate the sin, not the sinner”, someone said. But while writing the aboves lines I started hating the sinner and probably forgetting the sin. Therefore, thought better to stop right away because the world is already overflowing with so much bitterness. Let me not add some more.

Dear Monsoon

Heat, heat, heat
Forcing a retreat
Creativity is down
Imagination frown
Sweating profusely
Thinking loosely
Feeling giddy
No remedy

Dear Monsoon
Come soon!

A Life Yet To Lead

Some random thoughts rhymed sometime in June, 2008.

A life yet to lead
A journey yet to start
A mouth yet to feed
A plan yet to chart

A compliment yet to receive
A glory yet to shine
A world yet to perceive
A dinner yet to dine

A charity yet to begin
A destination yet to reach
A song yet to sing
A gospel yet to preach

A dream yet to live
A conclusion yet to arrive
A gift yet to give
A sentiment yet to drive

A love yet to find
A priority yet to number
A business yet to mind
And
A walk yet to remember.

Mind

Many times I have seen
the mind fly, high and away.
Into wilderness unknown
in full glory of day.
Feelings widen, wishes open
and apprehensions at bay.

Am lost to the world now,
lost to the surrounding.
An entire zenith opens before
as excitement is mounting.
Have covered some distance
and am still counting.

Expanse of mind has taken me
where body can only wonder.
All-all new world within me
stand in total surrender.
Oh! never knew it was so very
beautiful inside, and yet tender.

Thank You My Lord, for showing
the Garden of Eden within me.
How peaceful I feel, how quenched
is my desire, before thee.
I promise not to return back,
whatever may happen to my body.

In The End

The other day I was talking to a friend. Spontaneously I made reference to the  song In The End by Linkin Park. I hate hard rock but the poetry in this song is so expressive and deep which makes listening, and reading the lyrics as well, a treat. Here, it goes…

(It starts with)
One thing, I don’t know why
It doesn’t even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know
time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It’s so unreal
Didn’t look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on but didn’t even know
Wasted it all just to
Watch you go

The Music and The Song Of The Wood

This “poem”, if I can say so, I wrote sometime in Sept, 2008. While surfing through my older posts in my other blog (Let My Heart Speak) I came across it. I am reposting it here with some minor editing.

A river, meandered through
Caverns of rough weather.
Lived a life long enough and,
Moved and moved before wither,
Into the wonder that stood for all
With open arms and shelters:
The deep blue waters.

The turbulence and chaos,
The restlessness that grows
Mounts and mounts
when the river flows.

The calmness and peace,
The movement, that ease
comes and comes with
she, sea and the breeze.

All pains are gone,
Gone are the belongings.
All pleasures are gone,
Gone are the longings.

What remains is the music
and the song of the wood,
Once she traveled by
in her early childhood.

Life

Life is a search of its kind
Unknown paths, goals undefined.
A blank blackboard, few chalks
and a duster to write and erase,
Every time a new story with
Unknown ends, words and phrase.

Some stare at it lost,
Some scribble few words at most,
Some take chance and write anew,
Story of sort attempt a few.

Where do I stand,
I am yet to find!
I may not be one but all,
In search of a call
Which emanates
from deep within,
Till then some
effort I do put in.

Self

Somehow my thoughts
drifted into slumber
of deep woods
where I could see
the Self standing alone
in the reflecting waters
glimmering under
the full moon night.

“Who is this!”, was
my instant reaction, far
from realization
and recognition:
I was my unknown.

First a surprise,
then a disbelief
and mounting frustration.
The past was gone,
the present is staring
stark deep into my eyes:
I saw a naked unknown.

Truth is so rude!

Wisdom

If wisdom is
for wise
then
Is common sense
for common?

If what I do
is a good work (as you say)
then
Why don’t
you join me?

If this war is
to end all wars
then
How come we are
still at war?

If man can find water
on the moon
then
Why can’t we find
peace on earth?

If we all love as
we always proclaim (by saying I L U)
then
Why there is
so much hatred?

If greed is bad
(as someone said)
then
What modern
education is promoting?

If abnormality is
not happiness
then
who is normal?

…

This chain of thoughts can go on and on aimlessly.

Where…XX

Where my pen spills
the ink of hope.
Where my words act
as curing dose.
Where is the pen and
the words, my Lord?

Mind Without Fear

I vividly remember reading this poem for the first time in my 8th standard. Ever since then I felt deeply connected, in some mysterious way,  to this beautiful piece of creation from Gitanjali, a masterpiece written by Rabindranath Tagore.

Where the mind is without fear
and the head is held high;

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been
broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;

Where words come out from
the depth of truth;

Where tireless striving stretches its
arms towards perfection;

Where the clear stream of reason
has not lost its way into the dreary
desert sand of dead habit;

Where the mind is led forward by
thee into ever-widening thought and
action—

Into that heaven of freedom, my
Father, let my country awake.

~Rabindranath Tagore

P.S: My “Where” series poems are inspired from this poem!

Words, Words & Only Words Do I Have

Do words, that float
in our mind and
that trickle
down our lips,
tell the truth?

Do words know
what they say
or do we know?

We love them
so we use them
or misuse them?

We want to say
what we mean but
mostly we do not
mean what we say!

We repent for saying
what not to be said
and for not saying what
ought to be said.

Words are most used
but least understood.

Someone loves me
and I love someone
because words say so!

Words have fought battles.
Words have killed peoples.
Words have made kings.
And words do make fools.

Words, words and only
words do I have
but no meaning.

The Song of The Free

Surfing through the internet I came across a beautiful, thought-provoking poem written by Swami Vivekananda in 1895.

The wounded snake its hood unfurls,
The flame stirred up doth blaze,
The desert air resounds the calls
Of heart-struck lion’s rage.

The cloud puts forth it deluge strength
When lightning cleaves its breast,
When the soul is stirred to its in most depth
Great ones unfold their best.

Let eyes grow dim and heart grow faint,
And friendship fail and love betray,
Let Fate its hundred horrors send,
And clotted darkness block the way.

All nature wear one angry frown,
To crush you out – still know, my soul,
You are Divine. March on and on,
Nor right nor left but to the goal.

Nor angel I, nor man, nor brute,
Nor body, mind, nor he nor she,
The books do stop in wonder mute
To tell my nature; I am He.

Before the sun, the moon, the earth,
Before the stars or comets free,
Before e’en time has had its birth,
I was, I am, and I will be.

The beauteous earth, the glorious sun,
The calm sweet moon, the spangled sky,
Causation’s law do make them run;
They live in bonds, in bonds they die.

Where…XIX

Where will my
“where” reach?
Where is the
mark of breach?
Where’s the gospel
or the teach(er)?

Where…XVIII

Where my poetry
justifies its existence.
Where thoughts are aligned
and feelings coherent.
Where words may fall short
but understanding deepens.