Poof….

Poof….

 

 

As you enter  the auditorium

And meet the fractious audience

You begin to enjoy the feeling

The neurons rush and create passion

Dreams, big or small, fuel the body

At first, you are assiduous in understanding their expressions

Because they matter

Everyone matters

But soon you realize

That there is no time

You are too depressed to continue

You feel the pressure in your heart

Now, nothing matters

You just remain unaffected

They keep quarreling and shouting

You remain peaceful

But not for long

You befriend death

And time becomes non-existent.

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Miracle.

Miracle.

 

 

One fine morning, I was sitting in my room

My clothes were all over the floor and I looked into the mirror

‘What are you looking at?’ I asked myself.

I looked into the mirror dreadfully

‘What a great imitator’, I wondered.

I sat there for few more minutes

And waved my right hand slowly

Without making any noise

I was out of my mind when I saw a hand waving back at me slowly

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

I saw his lips moving and dancing on the directions of my voice

‘This is a miracle’, I thought.

‘What a calm and pleasant man’, I wondered.

I was all worried suddenly, his calmness made me jealous.

He copied my every move perfectly

And followed with precision

But there was serenity in his eyes

And sadness in mine

Because I felt it, it had to be there

That one difference killed me

I wanted to shatter him into pieces

So envious I was of his pleasantness that I threw my clock at him

I broke it into pieces

Earlier there was one happy man, now there were many

All of them happy and calm

Whatever I do, they won’t change

I had no influence on them

Suddenly the dread in my heart was gone

The squabbling that terrified me over the years was gone

If I can’t influence them then I too won’t get influenced

The steering was in my hand

I moved and those broken pieces followed

I laughed and they laughed with me

Now we were all similar without any difference.  

I still don’t know.

I still don’t know.

 

 

When I was young I befriended a street dog

He ran around me and followed me everywhere

I used to sit near him and watch him wag his tail

I never talked and he never listened

But still, we communicated

How?

Even I don’t know

There are things you don’t know

Like a mother communicates with her child

Out of all those words that I blurted out

That silence with my dog was the best talk

He died some days later

And whenever I am surrounded by noise

I imagine his tail and I communicate with him

How?

I still don’t know.

When words fall short.

When words fall short.

 

 

Sometimes words fall short

When epiphany hits

When whole is visible in bits

When all the branches squeeze into roots

When thoughts dance and hands tremble

When life reveals itself

When Ephemeral ecstasy doesn’t exist

At that time the simplicity abducts the complexity

It happens in moments of bliss

When you sit and your heart races

When you see one in all faces

The story is in your heart

But your hands don’t move

The thoughts shout

But you don’t speak

When you hear mellifluous sounds

And your mind dances

At that time

Words do fall short.

Life flew away.

Life flew away.

 

As I walk and run ahead

My skin gets abraded with the dust

With the dust of crushed earth and stone

With the dust of facts and beliefs

They impugned my honor

By throwing dust on my face

My hands got macerated

As I washed my face again and again

Time flew by and the dust kept accumulating

Then one day I turned back

I traveled the entire road back

To find the source of dust

The illusion was persistent but breakable

The brain itself was the source

The dust was not because of the stones

Nor it was because of the lies

The only problem was with the brain

It believed blindly

Without giving second thoughts, it believed

Now the eyes saw clearly and far away

I just stood there with time and life flew away.

 

Never too late…

Never too late…

This happened to me once

When I walked and walked

To find something or someone

I saw trees covered by their branches

Big wavy branches 

And they were letting every drop of water 

On the ground

Drop by drop through their leaves

I saw those drops of water

Seeping into the cracked earth

I saw people and humanity

Fighting with each other

When I was a child

I was once playing football

And I accidentally kicked the ball

Into our own goal post 

Which I was supposed to protect

I knew that it was foolish

But as I grew up I saw everyone doing it

Not on the football ground

But on the battlefield of life

Shouldn’t we be on humanity’s side?

Why are we kicking the ball into our own goal post?

These thoughts raced through my mind

As I raced on the streets 

I finally reached somewhere

It was the place where my body was burned 

The ashes were now cold

I tried to mingle with the particles of ashes

But I couldn’t do it

Was it too late?

It was not too late I realized

As I heard my alarm ringing.

Dear God

Dear God

 

Time: 2 PM

Date: 20-11-2017

A Letter came to my house.

The letter read as follows:

 

 

“Dear God,

I have walked on rough roads in life

I have heard fallacious arguments

About your existence or non-existence

I sense and feel that there is a purpose

Why are we living this life?

I faltered at first to ask you this

But now I am caged inside my own mind

There is only one way left

So, I am asking you this question

What is the meaning of life?”

 

 

The date on the letter was 20-11-1987

And it was addressed to me by God.

I ran towards the postman to find the truth.

He vanished into the sky and I never saw him ever again.

I turned the letter and on its backside, there was a picture.

It was my father looking young and handsome.

The letter was written by my father 30 years ago.

I entered his room and sat on a chair.

He was breathing heavily.

He was at the last stage of cancer.

Needles connected all over his body.

He lived as an atheist all his life.

I gave him that letter.

He asked surprisingly, ‘Is there an answer?’

I said, ‘No’.

He then threw the letter away.

I said, ‘There is no answer, but he exists’.

My father smiled and surrendered himself to death.