Imaginations

The Calling

As the rush of the grass strokes your hand,
And each dash of the wind adds a flavor new,
All you want to do is write about that distant land,
Where the only king your body served were you.

As the whiff of the waves hits you in the face,
And the squeaks of the sand clutch on to your feet,
All you want to do is rewind and play those days,
When the only ring your heart knew was its own beat.

As the size of the peaks reveals the grand scheme,
And the mystery of the shadows speaks of a friend,
All you want to do is groove to the ancient dream,
Which is the only string your mind follows at the end.

As you feel alive with all the senses firing the brain,
And the mind, heart and body connected at the core,
All you can do is ask yourself again and again,
What is the only thing your soul is here to search for?


Image by Pezibear


Invisible

Putting the lipstick in her purse,
She stole a glance at the mirror,
Given the fact this wasn’t her first,
She couldn’t afford any error.

Tucking the tie in between collars,
He put on the blazer black,
“I’ve got the charm and the dollars”,
He drew the matte shoes from the rack.

It was a lovely evening of spring,
Lovelier were the outfits they wore,
As their table got ready for the fling,
The glances kept playing with the four.

Amidst all the laughter and the cheers,
Both were unaware of the maquillage,
Which wasn’t so shiny as their attires,
But was donned as the perfect camouflage.


Image by Gerd Altmann


Viewpoints.

Once upon a time, there was a child, safe and secure in the mother’s womb. Having no OUTLOOK on the world out there, the child basked in its own little world.

Then the child was born. Surprised by the new world, the child APPROACHED everything with feelings of awe and admiration.

The child grew up and turned in its adolescence days. Suddenly the world was not a friend anymore. The child PERCEIVED the world as its enemy and was careless towards everything, living life to the fullest with its carefree ways.

Then came adulthood, and with that went the innocence. Equipped with the limited resources, the child was focused on its personal aspirations in the competitive world. There was no time to see the world from any other ANGLE.

Then it dawned on the child. There was an entire world out there, unsafe and insecure even in the nature’s womb. With the new POSITIONS of thoughts on the world out there, the child was raveled by its own realization, and along came the questions.

Maybe the child is ME. Maybe the child is YOU. But there is an entire world of generations out there, ravaged by greed, war, discrimination, poverty, exploitation and more. Maybe all it needs is a small shift in our VIEWPOINT towards it.

Let’s adjust OUR VIEWPOINT. Will YOU?


Video by TEDx NTU


Out There

Careless whisper of the drizzling drops,
Enormous greens bustling with crops,
Wild stares of the winged with a twist,
Magic in the ways and rules of the mist,

Out there, all belong to the creator.

Old leaves in the wind of old cheers,
The chaotic order of smiles and tears,
Shadows of feelings and their carriers,
Even the shapes of the broken barriers.

Out there, all belong to the dreamer.


Image by A Hopeless Anachronism


Memories

One night went off in endless words,
Keeping wide awake two young birds,
Unknown feelings hugged them tight,
Open eyes welcomed the guiding light,
Past storms seemed like breezing by,
As both deemed those worthy of a try,
New prologue written for a new story,
Newer versions brought newer glory,
So hope sailed for an island farther,
Silver queen leading the path to harbour,
The branches failed to check the reach,
Little twinkles made it large in each.

One day of wandering among the old,
Drove some forgotten tales to unfold,
Standing tall with that glazing grace,
History chanted about the ancient ace,
Unknown chills ran fast down the spine,
Witnessing all colours of the then divine,
One of them was a believer by heart,
While the other played an atheist part,
Yet both remained humbled by one sight-
Where ‘god-particle’ was enamelled bright.
Celebrating a mark had never been jollier,
Dug up memoirs kept filling their collier.

One evening had brought them closer,
One dawn dreamed of a bird younger,
One dusk was about lending wings,
One morning built the house of strings,
One noon tweeted all the good times,
Some short and some so long rhymes,
Looking back at the river of moments,
Which rewinds back to playful events,
Feathered heart wants to pause and play,
See each other all chirpy and gay,
Hoping the stream will reflect the past,
Out there in the coming days to last.

Alas, this mirror does not give back,
What has been taken, as though black.


Image by Ulrike Leone