Wednesday, July 31, 2013

No Song Of Certainty

I'm Stubborn, When I Know I'm Right
Stubborn is what I'm labeled with when I stand resolute on something I think is right and just. Often I think I know everything there's to know about a certain thing. I make up my mind and am very clear about the way I feel about it. There are no doubts, no arguments entertained. Like those permanent crease that are imprinted in my hands I know there aren't going to be any alterations. My sagacities are well defined and there's little scope for any change. 
Only if things were so straightforward. Only if I wasn't a human and didn't have this capacity of being molded by the circumstances and people around. Only if unlearning and casting off was an option and this grey matter inside my head was not growing. Only if I wasn't maturing with each passing year and starting to realize that the colors in visible spectrum of my cerebrum keeps growing and there will never come a time, not now, when I can be completely right and wrong. There will always be perspectives and circumstances to weigh in. There's nothing like certainty. I'm never going to be certain again.

Every time he tried to reconstruct the internal arguments that had led to his decision, they sounded feebler to him.” 
 J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Young me, certain, confident
life seemed easy, comfy, cheery
less I knew, knew what I had to do
what wasn't fine, what wasn't right
when I was or wasn't alright
sketches I drew, so many
only pencil I used, shades so uncanny
differences easy, light and dark
easily marked, in and out so stark.

Stubbornness-my way, I recall
no paradoxes, when I flew I didn't fall
never I gave a second thought
there was no point of coming back
I knew I was coursing the right track
again sketches I drew, so many
some colors I used, used so barely
canvas was scrambled, seems what I got
was some misconstrued blueprint of a plot.

I grew, spent more time
seen, litany of complaints and crimes
like everyone else, peccant mortal I am
exposed to the tableau of right and wrong
seen rise and fall of both weak and strong
sketches that I make now, colors so many
polychromic in feel, sensuous so scenery
judgments are blurred now, ever a scope for things
insatiable life now, engulfing whatever it brings.

Let go of certainty. The opposite isn't uncertainty. It's openness, curiosity and a willingness to embrace paradox, rather than choose up sides. The ultimate challenge is to accept ourselves exactly as we are, but never stop trying to learn and grow.

~Tony Schwartz

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Saturday, July 27, 2013

Mystery Spots

Every day, I'm sure it happens with you too, there are so many things people say to you, so many things those puppy faces do to you, out of jealousy, agony, anger or simply for innocuous reasons. If you start compiling them down or linger on to them for longer duration god knows how enormous can that pile be. Bronx cheers, shady remarks, taunting and twits, well there just too many ways to pull your legs and problem is people around you know you too well to use them when they feel like. Does that bothers me ?

Yeah pretty much. I would be lying if I say otherwise. But, I've made something clear to myself that all these people are nothing but road-blocks. They are just there, lying on my way where I intend to go. I guess they do a little good to me by keeping me on a leash. For an instant they do push me a little on edge but I make sure to drag myself up, or open up my parachute in time in case I make a wrong jump.

Thanks to those Mystery Spots in our brain where all this clutter is not only hived away but clandestinely buried and blocked so that fallout is almost negligible to naked eyes.

Each day brings its petty dust
Our soon-choked souls to fill, 

And we forget because we must,

And not because we will.

~Mathew Arnold

Does that bother me ?
all those nitwitted trumpery talks
those words when processed in my head
I let them walk, ambulate across my neural highways
keep riding, with speed bumps, across the alley all the way.

Does that annoy me a lot ?
all those wasted wish-wash talks
they do boil the fluid inside me, tempering me
those little nagging nick my skin so tough, though
in check, I always am, when reasons not swell enough.

How messed up I am ?
keep singing to me that song, if only
often coated with jaggary, those nuked taunts
aimed right at me, they do make a tangible depression
on the crest, of heart of mine, are in for stirring impressions.

What do I do ?
I keep my calm and go off of the tangent
dive into music and drift along the sound waves
of my song, pull a curve along my face projecting straight
no, it really doesn't bothers me, and I carry on with my life's parade.

My mind lets go of a thousand things,
Like dates of wars and deaths of kings
~ T B Aldrich
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Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Society's mask, Society's way

There's a face that we wear in the cold light of day 
It's society's mask, it's society's way,
And the truth is that it's all a façade
There's a face that we hide till the nighttime appears,
And what's hiding inside, behind all of our fears,
Is our true self, locked inside the façade..
~Jekyll & Hide

Glimpse of his face
notice, can you, his pace
sharp, determined, hard-core
one-man-army, marching
grabbing all he can, little more.

He is boorish, ramping, very
smiles back too in hearty merry
elusive, can't get a read of him
rock in his heart, or pounding flesh
or too much water beneath the brim.

He's saint, conjoined to his schedule
blandishing, cajoling, bending some rules
to get what he wants, leaves nothing to chance
nonesuch he is, or a daimon in detail
or much talked nonsensical flimsy prance

Strange how he keeps the facade whole day
masquerade  is so tight, never he escaped
one day he was standing tall, in dark of the night
see the face marred by an antsy look
he was worried-planning about next day bright

Who was he ?
he's no one but me
at night I shed it all, mask-unmasked
free from all mistakes, anticipations
I just lie down there bare-skinned.

It's a nightmare 
We can never discard 
So we stay on our guard 
Though we love the façade 
What's behind the façade?
Look behind the façade
~Jekyll & Hide

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Even Flow

Even flow, thoughts arrive like Butterflies
Oh, he don't know, so he chases them away
Someday yet, he'll begin his life again
Life again, life again...
~Pearl Jam

Like always,
I was thinking about the times long gone
tree that still stands there and so does the rising Sun
still so fresh, animatedly etched in my memory
but good way off my reach on the contrary
those suspended times I often go back to
to school arcade, nigh park or my college street

Like always,
I was thinking about the times ahead too
if truth said I don't have much to tell you
explorin' heterogeneity of my oneiric world
feelin' the ceilings, measuring how vast they will be
familiar faces smiling, fortifying every turn
while I keep swimmin' uncharted territories

I don't have to think about present times
not much juggling with reason nor with rhymes
do what I got to do, stroll, jog or run fast
winds of every season past, all mixed at one
good times wrapped along rough times
feathering sharp edges moments of fun

It takes more than just efforts, sometimes
flow isn't always so even, oddities stretched
along the tracks, debris obstructing
the flow of rain, left alone, I alone sloppy and enraged
I do what anybody would do, actions- reactions
without much ado


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