Change

Change

 

 

The morning sunlight today was different

Yesterday’s night was different

Different were these last few days

 

The last few weeks were different

The last few months were different

Different was this whole year

 

Trying hard

Struggling to avoid change

And I am different every second.

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The same old story…

The same old story…

 

 

It was a silent night. The time was around 2 AM. I closed the book I was reading and started writing a story. I wanted to write about crime, money, and corruption. I chose myself as the main protagonist and started thinking.

In the story, I am a poor guy who lives in a small shed in the slum area of Mumbai. I have no work, I beg on the streets for my daily bread. One day when I am standing on the street, I see a car stopping. Three men stepped outside. After a few minutes, another car stopped right behind the first one. A man stepped outside from it with a big suitcase. He gave that suitcase to one of the three men standing and then he left.

The three men started discussing something and soon they were shouting. One of them pulled out a gun and shot the other two. The suitcase fell down. The third man was about to run with the suitcase, but some police officers came from behind in their jeep. The man ran leaving the suitcase behind and the police followed him.

I took that suitcase and looked around. There was an old beggar sitting on the opposite side of the road. He was looking all this while, I realized. But he didn’t react. I ran away with the suitcase.

That suitcase was loaded with cash. I, later on, became a businessman with that money and earned a name for myself. It was a stroke of fate that changed my life. I wanted more money. I started blackmailing and extortion. I looted big politicians and businessmen. I abducted the children and asked for money in return. One day I went to the same street for exchanging money on which I found that suitcase.

The beggar was still sitting on the opposite side. He was a lot older now. But his eyes were still the same. I took my money and left. With time I became more powerful. I decided to form my own party and work for the country as a politician. With the power and money I had, it was not a difficult task. Soon, I had power, money, and fame, everything that I asked for I got. I started feeling like a god. People came to me in thousands asking for help.

But from the inside, I was at my weakest. I was not able to sleep at night.

It was 2:15 AM. Only this much I was able to think. I didn’t know how to end the story. It was the same old story. I thought about it for one hour more. I didn’t find anything interesting. I closed my laptop. I closed my eyes and the only thing I could think of was that man sitting on the opposite side of the street.

That one incident.

That one incident.

 

 

I woke up in the morning and looked around. The room was filled with sunlight and I could see dust particles flying over my head, arranged in arrays. I removed my blanket and was about to get up from the bed when I heard some strange noises. I was scared as there was no one in the house.

I stayed in bed for a few more minutes. I looked around my room and realized that someone was here. All my things were messed up. Nothing was stolen as such. I went to check the outside door and found out that it was perfectly locked. There was no way anybody could have entered the house.

I tried to recollect my previous day’s memories. And I realized that the room was arranged perfectly before. I was terrified because of the room’s present condition. I went to work after some time and tried to forget this incident.

It has been 25 years. That incident is still fresh in my mind and I still don’t know who was present there that night. But today I am not terrified. I am curious. I am anxious. Sometimes I just mess up my room and live that incident in the morning. I try to forget that I was the one who messed it up. And my wife gives me medicine thinking that I am suffering from Alzheimer.

 

Junction

Junction

 

 

Two ways in front

No clue about either one

Sun is shining on both

Darkness will swallow both

On one I am tempted to walk

On the other, I might have to walk

Sitting at the junction

I am lost

Befuddled in mind

The heart is not in sink

There is no going back

What do I do?

To whom do I complain?

This is life

It gives you surprises

Rather shocks

When I embellished the fact

That life is simple

Life threw me into its complex texture

And I got entangled

Is there a panacea?

Well, it will take time

And you won’t die

What more do you need?

They say

They say

 

They say

Live life in every moment

Life is in the now

Why worry about tomorrow?

Why dwell in sorrows of today?

Life is in the now

Forget about your grief

Live moments in the brief

Cherish every breath

See life before death

They say

Be ecstatic

Be cheerful

I prefer being sad

I prefer not living for some time

I prefer being angry in some moments

Being ecstatic always is not my thing

I like to drown sometimes

I like to fall too

In the depths of a fall

I find life

I cherish the grief sometimes

In the hope

For a better tomorrow

Yes, tomorrow might not come

But I still hope

I find life in the hope

This, they don’t say.

Grains

Grains

A box full of grains
Same colour same size
And I was playing with it
Transferring from one box to the other
Uniformly the grains flowed
But no connection
No interaction
They all looked similar
Yet different
I tried to establish a bond
But they all were apart
Each traveled its own path
No care about the other
I got irritated
And I threw the box of grains
And they all went in different directions
I was ashamed of the grains
Suddenly, I fell down
Rolling on the curved earth
I was alone
I looked around
And I saw myself
Everywhere
But we were all on different paths
Not caring about each other
Finally I died hoping
I won’t become a grain.

The day and The night

The day and The night

 

 

The day and the night met

The yellow turned into red

And red was about to become blue

The hot air mingled with the drizzle

And touched the wrinkled face

The cold resided in the pores of the skin

Releasing peace

The bare feet that traveled on ashes

Embraced the wet grass

The memories of all those years

Fell from the eyes

And touched the feet

Between day and night

Hot and cold met

Cold is nothing but the absence of hotness

The night is nothing but the absence of the day

The hands were swollen due to the tedious work

Over the years

Just wondering sitting

Was it worth?

Looked into the red sky

And swallowed the peace

The peace that never appeared before

Even when the sky went red every day

The redness was leaving

And the sky became blue and then black

The eyes ate the night stars

And locked them inside.