Conscience?! Nonsense!!

I do not like me.

You should not like you.

You who tots a weapon with glee,

Me with my misplaced sense of justice.

Rearing ambitions and raging hormones,

Contributing to this sad plight called earth.

A race defined by its so called conscience,

Laying waste to this planet.

Are we better or those instinctual dumb brutes?

Right and wrong displaced with grey areas.

And karma shot to hell.

Where does this journey lead?

What legacy do we leave behind?

Speaking of Ghosts from Fair Countryside

When we encounter haunted, scary places, I often wonder what kind of spirits lurk in the dark, whether they are good or bad, whether they will harm me. Here is a poem on that thought.

Objects to speak of there maybe many
For now, this mind dwells on one
On clanking chains and burdens heavy
Of my skipping countryside ghosts
And the ones,townsfolk deem scary.

Business of ghosts, I tell you, is morbid.
If've seen one, I'd probably run fast
But behind a desk, writing on them is what I did
Versions of ghosts, of the ones happy and sad,
Of the ones that found peace and ones with heavy hearts.

Spirits be all same lurking around in dark corners
But to who doth the heart wish joy?
Whether it be for the cold souls dragged asunder
Or the ones floating in joyous abandon
Long and hard I ponder.

Sordid tales maybe told of the crummy ones from town
With their evil glint and unhappy howls
But what of the mischievous poltergeist, beckoning to us like a funny clown
Tales of terror, nay not for those,
For in my gay countryside, whats to frown?

Let me chance upon one so gay
Or one so melancholy to cast a pall of gloom
When I too am on my way.
Bandying along with the simple village folks is what I'd choose
Turning in the grave be for those careworn that day.

With a desire for the mind made free
I'd rather be the one skipping along
Than be the nasty apparition bearing ill will,
With care and concern left behind,
Dancing about to a happy tune in my countryside.

A Strange Goodbye

Goodbye to those last vestiges of pain

To those lovely reminders of a fast approaching end

Those marching soldiers of death always forward

Goodbye my faithful yet demanding friend

I gave you my life and now I am reclaiming it back

You wont give up that easily.

Quit your tenacious grip in my brain

It is not going to work

This old girl has crossed over to the other side

Meet me there if you dare

No, I must'nt chide you

I must thank you for your unrestrained company

Would have continued walking by your side

Till death do us part

But I want to live now so let me be.

I thank thee once again

With wishes for you to not come back.

This is what I call, a strange goodbye.

To Heaven and Beyond

Photographs cannot grasp as many moments as words. The limits for imagination get stretched beyond anything which is why this need to pen down my thoughts. This is more in the nature of expressing my feeling of awe. It is strange how cities make you yap incessantly, every word uttered quite inconsequential and insignificant. Not quite the case in places far removed from civilization as we know it. Here I don't dare utter a word out of context from the fear of disrespecting the beauty around me. Surrounded by limitless towering peaks and lush stretches of land, I do not feel diminished by this vastness. On the contrary there is a sense of challenge. I am invigorated to do everything in my power to preserve this beauty. Arunachal Pradesh the "valley of lights" has invoked this light within me.

Death’s Dance in the Palms of Mortals

Booming turmoil through a normal day

There a sun turns red with rage

And here mortals writhe in pain

Embellishing one’s mind with all that gore

What’s the point, one may ask

In a world disturbed thus

Such questions appearing polarized

Endless debates leading to nowhere

Disturbed by the human toll

There is a tug at one’s heart

Far removed from all these miseries

And yet, is one an island?

Concern writ on the ones who survived

For victims of the perverseness of human mind

Concern that it could be me another time

Losing everything, spare inches from oblivion

The toil and sweat of a thousand gone

Cascading down into a pile of rubbish

Thousands thoughts being the definitive cause

While creation and destruction see-saw

One wonders at the infinite power to create and destroy

Scary though sounds such a proposition

Truth ringing from every aspect of this realization

One waits to see in what favour shall the balance tip....

Everything Beautiful in a Lover’s Paradise

I can understand that this is really girly and nothing like the real world, but being a dreamer, I dream of the best things possible. Of course it is not as if I realize that these dreams will never be true, but what’s really the harm in writing about them??? You might ask what’s the point….I say just because I feel like it. So here goes :)

The bluest sky in my mind’s eye

Sun bursting forth in winter’s chill

Thousand colored flowers tint my sight

That’s the beauty in a lover’s paradise

An azure ocean glittering till the horizon

Sandy yellow beaches beckoning out to you

Corals delight, fishes flit, a scene from a travelogue

That’s the beauty in my paradise

Floating clouds like huge puffs of down

A slash in the middle and coolness pours forth

Sitting on them like the queen of the world

That’s how I dream in my lover’s paradise

Everything in stock, with nothing left to want

Happiness reflected from every eye I meet

My small perfect universe in the corner of my mind

Yet it fits right in, in my lover’s paradise

Love that transcends into the higher echelons

Where peace and tranquility rule always

Absence of a loving touch not withstanding

That’s how I feel in my lover’s paradise

Shadows of Things Unknown

Lurking below the dark waters

Are treasures unknown

And dangers too real

Scared be us, but of what?

Inside the black darkness

Enter we must

But with hopes of what?

Sheer tragedy or happiness unbound?

With time clicking in your head

And sweat dripping down your back

You take a step forward

Knowing, there’s no other way

What’s to be expected

From life’s great moments

When they are mere illusions of today,

The only real thing being tomorrow.

Shadows of tomorrow,

Leering at you today.

Will you walk ahead with head held high?

Will you?