Guilty Conscience Grows

Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
  ~William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Conscience, we all think we have one and yes in some twisted sense we do. It's the personalized compass we all suppose to be having while inflicting our opinions on others. 

Real conflict starts here only. This compass is flawed and biased. It gives different readings for different subjects. It's constantly exposed and rusted  with the everyday input we get from our surroundings. Encased in different capsules conscience is no longer snow-white its somewhere in between black and white. 

Religion, society, polity, community, gender, cliques and classes, peers, senior, junior  and what not.. the circles of enigma can go on. All of this makes us dive deep in to false pride and prejudices.Problem is there's no diving out... Just floating forever.

Even the small decisions of our life are not fully independent of this drama in background. It just goes on and on and influences even minutest details of our lives . We end up being oblivious pawns who are standing right on the edge of precipice fighting battles of others in the guise of our own. 

We say we have conscience.. But, do we really have or its just a notion carefully crafted by everyone around us ?

Life's odd enough
to look like a mess
everyone says it's
much similar 
to a complex

game of chess. 

Really, because

there's no queen
or a force of sepoys.
But, mean bunch of
too grown up
girls and boys. 

Who turn all stones
and flip all pages.
They try all keys
to pick the locks 

of layers of cages.

Cages
personally forged for each
alive soul. 
Concentric and overlapping
it succumbs us all.

We cut n cross each other
sometimes literally
like pawns of a game.

Everyone says they have 

magic pill of freewill

they are not some pawns 

who are tamed.

Really, is it the case ?

I highly doubt it..

because

conscience seems not 

developed or cultured

but forced and tamed.

I think, therefore I am.

Thinking about something is like picking up a stone when taking a walk, either for skipping rocks on the beach or looking for a way to shatter the glass doors of a museum. When you think about something, it adds a bit of weight to your walk, and as you think about more and more things you are liable to feel heavier and heavier, until you are so burdened you cannot take any further steps, and can only sit and stare at the gentle movements of the ocean waves or security guards, thinking too hard bout too many things to do anything else. 
 ― Lemony Snicket, The End  
 

  There's no special time-frame or a slot in your time table when you sit down and think. Its like a   biological, not everyone thinks,  natural process that goes on in background all the time. I do it all the time... knowingly or unknowingly the process is on. Even between the time when I'm half awake and half asleep just when I'm almost sure that day is off and the veiled Peter Pan in me can escape in my perfect Neverland. A thought, out of nowhere, closes the doors of my dreamy land away and leaves me digressing in the boondocks of my unceasing thoughts. 

I almost slept 
may be seen a dream or two
and then it happened
Out of nowhere
that midget thought
unloaded in my head.

It was already booming
with the debris 
I collected that day
No more, my stack's 
full I pray. 
Then I start talking
to no one, but Me. 
Too ergodic 
all that clutter
makes no sense. 
to Me. 

Then I cling on to one
out that mesh of mess
I pick one.. 
about the days gone by 
or time yet to come.
Basked in those 
misty thoughts
my sleep is long gone 
twisting and curling 
on my bed
euphony is on. 

I can think so much
may be it never ends 
when this night ends 
there's another at hand. 
I sleep with one 
and I wake with one
with everything on
it goes on and on. 

I dread of the day 
if it ever stopped 
I'll be awake
for forever, glancing 
wild blue yonder
or will I sleep it all ?

Am I horribly limited ?

“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.”

~ Sylvia Plath

      

BRAINWASHED

There's an ethereal process of brainwashing going on. Hidden from everyone, somewhere deep down in our sub-conscious it disperses. Do you know how people are brainwashed ? Repetition of something over and over. Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. Power is good. Powerful is good. More commercialism is good. More of anything is good. Politicians are bad. Religion is good. Men Vs Women, Public Vs Private, Poor Vs Rich, the eternal fights. No matter what elders are always right. We repeat it--and have it repeated to us--over and over until nobody bothers to even think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all of this, he has no perspective on what's really important anymore. The concept of Morphic Field and Resonance seems to be working effectively in this case.

  ~Ref: Tuesdays with Morrie

"Morphic Field and Resonance is the idea that, through a telepathic effect or sympathetic vibration, an event or act can lead to similar events or acts in the future or an idea conceived in one mind can then arise in another".

I wake up early in the morning 

do chores, as my mum says.

I've made goals,

craving, working hard.

I know where I'd be 

in few more days.

But, there are rules 

I can't bend. 

bounded within limits

trends, stats, already set.

Flightless birds, so many 

waiting, for generations 

tirelessly.  

They have the ideas 

tattooed in their minds. 

Anchored to those..

they run in a loop 

endlessly.  

Some are good,

deserve replication, surely

But, some deserve 

termination, yes certainly. 

  

Brainwashed robots

we've become.

Impotent to dissect 

fiction in reality. 

Don't blame it on 

morphic resonance. 

or on chemical imbalance. 

Get some grip on your 

personalized self-reality.  

Day of Retrospection & Contemplations

For last year's words belong to last year's language

And next year's words await another voice.

~ T. S. Elliot

I sit back and think 

how it was ?? 

Good or bad 

or it was nothing but static. 

I did my best

Or am I self-biased 

when I say it ?

I know the truth

the real one.. 

inside my head

I did best, 

could have been better..

Who knows ?

Those days are past 

for forever..

sulking about it 

doesn't  make it better. 

Clinging  on to the good ones 

marching on..

for the next. 

Mistakes I reiterate.

Distractions that penetrate

my strong willed wall..

shake it down

to the verge of fall.

I'm staunch, not to 

commit them again.

Less pains for time ahead..

just results and gains :) 

Happy New Year fellas.. Make the next year a different one !!