Crying child

Crying child

 

 

When I was a little boy

Not too little to not understand

Also not too big to let go

So, I was walking down the road to my friend’s house

And I saw a man beating a child

With belt in his hand and dread in his eyes

 

I saw people not reacting to it

They just walked by ignoring the crying child

As one walks in a garden with flowers in it

Inside my mind, I wanted to kill that man

But my hand didn’t move

Fear swallowed every inch of my mind

 

I stayed away from violence since then

Running away became the best option for me

That look in the eyes of that man was horrifying

I haven’t met or seen god

But I saw evil that day

And as I grew up I saw evil being worshipped

 

I am told today of what I should and shouldn’t do

I am judged for my work

I get maligned for the way I speak, the way I be

And my mind is forced to stay in a cage, a prototype

Every day I get beating from everywhere

There is no belt, no scars, just a crying child.

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Disabled.

Disabled.

 

Have you ever met a disabled person?

How difficult must be living with a disability?

 

You chose to follow a pattern

A life which on the outline is happy

You do what you need to do

 

One day I met a friend

And he started sharing his plans

He had the whole shit figured out

His job and promotions

His travel plans and marriage

His kids and their schooling

And I just kept looking at him wondering

 

I thought to myself

What is beyond that?

Nobody talks about that

Or I am just hiding my laziness

And pretending to be too philosophical

 

But let me tell you

I am no different

I travel the same path as my friend

The only difference is that he is happy

And I am not

But maybe he is not happy

Who could tell?

Why do I complain so much and he doesn’t?

 

He asked me one day,

Have you ever met a disabled person?

How difficult must be living with a disability?

And he advised me

That I am lucky

I am able

I should be happy

I should succeed

As he was doing

 

When I go home everyday

And I look into the mirror

I try to go beyond myself

I try to look closer

And I laugh

I laugh hard at myself

And I ask myself,

Who isn’t disabled?

 

 

 

 

Curious eyes…

Curious eyes…

 

 

It was a bright day in a village, which was situated very far away on an island. Only around fifty people lived in that village. The food and lifestyle habits of people in that village were very simple. The village was inside the green forest. There were big trees all around and wild animals. The work was distributed evenly among everyone.  Some took care of the safety from the wild animals and the rest of them arranged for food.

In the night people will sing songs and talk. Generally, they would talk about the life beyond the waters. They had boats but they never managed to see the other side of the shore. They were very curious about the things they didn’t know. They didn’t have the means to satisfy their curiosity.  The bright day had now turned into a dark night. All eyes locked their curiosity inside.

A big explosion was heard. Everyone woke up and ran to find out about it. A big plane was coming from the sky towards them. It was burning like a ball of fire. Soon, the entire island was on fire along with the people.  Those people died with curiosity in their eyes. Far away, on the other side of the shore, people read about the missing plane. Within days the news was forgotten. People got back to their lives. The uninterested people will never know about those people who died with curiosity in their eyes.

Sky…

Sky…

I sat with him for hours

And we discussed

As the sun immersed in the infinite ocean

The warm air turned cold

The rolled sleeves went down

And the stars came and sat in the eyes

And for some time I lost him

The wet sand below my feet

Witnessing my ignorance

But he kept talking

How do I tell him without hurting?

I just don’t want him anymore

Even the sky shouts from above

To be honest

At least to him

And I just wondered

A big wave stood up in the middle

And it came roaring towards us

We both were scared

And we looked at it

Eye to eye

He was actually looking down

And then something hit me

I walked

Not away

But towards that gigantic wave

The sky was crying in awe

He was dead

I looked at him

As I sat on the wave

And touched the sky.

a fake

a fake

 

Broken heart crying inside

But how would a heart cry?

It sure feels heavy

 

It is one of those days

When you feel really low

Your body is belligerent

But the mind has given up

 

There was this man

I admired him a lot

Always happy and cheerful

Every time he will be ecstatic

 

He made me envious

Until one day

I saw him in his solitude

Crying like a baby

Sitting in his garden

Depressed

 

The clouds were gone now and the sun was bright

I was really happy

I should not have been that happy

But I was ecstatic

I was relieved

That man who looked always happy

Was a fake

A big lie

And I got a reason to stay depressed and sad again

 

Sometimes I wonder

How comforting is sadness?

How difficult is to look happy?

 

I left that man and never returned.  

New book…

shreyanssite

 

Hello friends,

My new book titled ‘Voice of the Soul’ is now available on Amazon. Please Read and tell me what you think.

bookn.jpg

 

How does it feel to lie just by yourself and delve into the silence? The silence that is a path to a deeper self, a self that is unexplored. That same unexplored self can also be regarded as the soul. While the time ticks on the clock, a bond with your soul is timeless. Such metaphors are rendered powerless when a conversation is created with oneself. These poems mean more than just words, they scream soulfulness. It is rather weird that we go looking for answers outside when all that we have to do is seek deeper within ourselves. The poems are experiences that the poet shares with the world and these experiences are nothing fancy- they are all moments that the poet experiences with…

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New book…

New book…

 

Hello friends,

My new book titled ‘Voice of the Soul’ is now available on Amazon. Please Read and tell me what you think.

bookn.jpg

 

How does it feel to lie just by yourself and delve into the silence? The silence that is a path to a deeper self, a self that is unexplored. That same unexplored self can also be regarded as the soul. While the time ticks on the clock, a bond with your soul is timeless. Such metaphors are rendered powerless when a conversation is created with oneself. These poems mean more than just words, they scream soulfulness. It is rather weird that we go looking for answers outside when all that we have to do is seek deeper within ourselves. The poems are experiences that the poet shares with the world and these experiences are nothing fancy- they are all moments that the poet experiences with himself. They are questions risen from inquisitiveness and introspection.

Here is the link:

Buy now