Commotion of Emotions

Long had rode the Knight, Forever strong; never weak. Saddles and bridles shining bright, On a horse that every prince would seek. Her black armour glistening in sunlight, Carried by the epitome of lust - The dark horse, the epicentre of fright, So loved, when hated be it must! Whenever the rider rode past, Forests or villages or seas; Her curse held her mark, All life hid in the following breeze. But when she finally arrived, And called out his name, 'It cannot be death', he surmised - Hallucinations should take the blame Then again a whisper coarse, He looked around in fret; A majestic lady on her horse - How could such beauty be death? 'But it is not time!' 'There's too much left' he said What is work; what is time? All of life awaits death. Not your actions not your words, Would matter where I take you. You'll see how life is absurd, How its only made to break you. Enchant...

I heard a knock, And you did too; I crawled through the floor, Why didn't you? I opened the door, No one to see; I heard you laugh, At my misery. I saw the words, You read them too, I climbed aboard, You left for good! All is to say - There's a voice in my head, But it's not me, I stand in the open, But I'm not free, And its guided, Not by senses or belief, But pain and misery! The root of all evil, The shoot of all love; Running generations through nations, Only thin wood up above. The ability to exploit, It knows not what it wants; Steering through dilemmas, Its a pleasure - to hunt! It calls you a hero, The saviour of the ones; Then stabs you in the back, And laughs as you stand stunned. All is to say - Loot, money or fame, Is the same - to blame Through tantrums and trains And all of your right, Leaves you in the fight, Fuelled by the voice, And its flight! And...

In a creek I heard a sound, Went ahead to investigate; Stopped   midway, thinking- It was too late. Too late to keep moving, Or too late to stop; So I paused there, And I thought . What good could come, Of walking into it - Than returning, To the hard earned seat. What we want, Is insignificant; In a convoluted timeline, Words lose their meaning. So I walked on, through - Undifferentiated right and wrong; And the eerie noise turned, Gradually into a soft song. I stood at the corner, Thinking for one last time; For what I was bound to lose, Was considered a heinous crime! I walked in with dilemma, Well-guarded with a smile. The alleys croaked and screamed, As I stepped onto the tiles. And there shone a mirror, In it a reflection of my own. Mesmerised, I touched it, And the glass turned to stone. The soft songs of lore, Reduced back to moan, I turned to look, But all was gone. T...

Cemented, plastered and proud - The wall shines above all. No failures, no doubts; It's a marvel standing tall. Neither fire, wind nor rain - Can quake or scrape, This mighty wall, trained To withstand all shapes. Yet it is not the outside, But the inside that strides; When hell passes beside, The best too fall to their surprise. And now there's a crack - Crude, expected and neglected It grows a track, Where nature stands corrected. Pride, anguish and defeat - Unacknowledged, it fleets In the soul, every crevice and creek, Emotions to a masquerade retreat. The fire, wind and rain - Laugh at this countenance, For the rift is back again Life following its trend! And so clear is the rift, Yet attended by none; Apart the continents drift, Powerless, I stand stunned; Fear, pain on the air streaming, For something to be made, something must fall; And I can feel the wind coming, Through the rift...

Many things have happened in the past. Things that should not have happened - but they did. Well, the world is not under my control; hell; not even I am under my control. But that is how it always has been and so here we are - staring at the beautiful sunset; Pretty; Nostalgic; Symbolic; but I am bored of it. I am bored of music. I am bored of talking. I am bored of myself. There isn't much to do in this tiny village of Mulai. For an old man like me, time becomes stagnant. Life is all but routine with no precedence. A routine of moments I do not want to live. Why should I? I do not want to spend the end years of my life whining as an enthralled pig. But is there anything I can do about it? Life after all, is not under my control. Sometimes I sit back and ponder on how I became what I am - I have all the time in the world. I cannot help but think how all desired reflections of life are balanced on critical tiny time frames. Where one silly mistake can break the refl...

To be a philosopher, Is to love and hate together. Praise the Lord - While denying his existence; And stabbing your own back. It is a mix of everything everywhere; To know that you don't know, To live in minutes and seconds, And breathe through the skin, And talk with your eyes. It is a conflict, With the community inside! The brain; the conscience; the heart. To contradict self - And live in eternal enquiry. It is to talk, But to oneself - Indulged in self-inquisition. To stray away from the world, And be branded mute. Every day a war, Every word a battle, Every deduction a fight, Every green a blue, And every second a wrong! It is to question, What all take for granted; And deny, What all take for law; And sing about every flaw. It is to stand alone, And not able to explain why! It is to not know the difference - Between a gift and a curse. It is to believe and make believe.

They told me they would fight, Against all wrong; For what is right. But when time came tapping at their door, They merely watched - rooted on the floor. In chaos of routine the renegades walked slowly, Defiling the unsaid law, were beaten wholly. All clapped rooting for the law, Manifested with iron rods and knives and claw! There was a young woman I recall, On the train, at the dawn of fall, Reclined against a seat - watching outside, Perhaps dreaming all that we do, sometimes. There was a young man too, Newly in love, cheek by jowl they flew - When an old man pointed at her attire, "They're too tight, this whore's provoking desire!" It was time, when deference knocked at the door, But all they did was stand, rooted on the floor! Goons rushed to serve the elderly gentleman, Where stood the young man - stout and defiant! 'Insolent!' cried someone from the crowd, Voice incognito but loud. P...