Air

The reason you're born, the reason you live
The reason a fire burns from deep within

Never shows itself but in the subtlest way
Like the gentle sea breeze on a summer day

For more space it never begs or pleads
Only fills up the void and makes you complete

And in a suffocating moment when it's gone
You'll realize it's worth all along

True love, a treasure to cherish forever
Like the air we breathe, as priceless and dear


April 10th, 2009.

Raising a plant

It takes a lot to raise a plant
An art it is indeed
Knowing when to sow and how to tend
To nurture life out of a barren seed

But when to stop too one must know
And accept what it has grown to be
For no nourishing can ever spring
A palm tree out of a poppy seed!

Raising a plant, like raising a child,
An art it is indeed!
Between nurturing and overbearing
Is a very fine line to breach

January 31st, 2009.

The Sea

(An old one, written on June 1st, 2006.)

My heart pines
For the land of my dreams
The land across the seas
Where nothing is amiss

The desire is no joke, no whim
It burns me from deep within
So into the sea I dive in
But know not I how to swim

My dream sets my soul alight
I tell myself 'I must fight
I must swim to stay alive
Only in the land of dreams must I die'

The sharks of the sea bite me deep
A different man I am when the scars heal
Soon I learn all I need
To stay alive in the stormy seas

At last one day I reach my dream -
The shore, all quiet and serene
The feel of this land under my feet
Is for what I have so far lived

But I am a seafarer, a dreamer no more
I do not belong among the people of the shore
My hands are rough and my voice hoarse
Back to the sea is where I must go

My heart pines
For the dangerous seas
Where I tame the sharks that bite deep
Where only the brave dare to be

The Winner

My thoughts outpaced my feet
To the finish line as I raced
With the wind, like bitter truth,
Hitting hard on my face

Thoughts of my sweat and toil
Every hour, every day
And of all the health and luck
That for no reason came my way

Thoughts of the lazy few who to win
Never did sweat or strive
And of the one-legged cripples who couldn't win
However hard they tried

I am told the sight of the finish line
Must put one on cloud nine
But I, the winner of a race of cripples,
Just let out a sigh

January 1st, 2009.

Wishes for a prosperous and peaceful new year, and a world with equal opportunities for one and all.

Evolution

First came the saintly plants and trees
That cooked their food and gave it away for free
Of peace and prosperity there was no dearth
But God felt he needed more action on earth

Then came the animals, the tigers and wolves
That preyed and killed to feed themselves
But all they did was eat and breed
And soon God was bored with their simplicity

Finally came men, the supreme race
With egos that were hard to satiate
And with creative minds that had a flair
For conjuring trouble out of thin air

They killed, but not anymore for bread
They were insecure, even with a roof over their heads
They plundered the earth in war after war
Until God began to wonder if he had gone too far

November 30th, 2008.

Backdrop: the Mumbai terrorist attacks of the last few days.

The End

(August 9th, 2008.)

In my search for meaning, to a road I was led
That had writ on it the name "Ambition"
I was told to follow it unto its end
To find and fulfill my life's mission

So diligently I walked, for days and miles
On a fruitless road, but saw no end
At sunsets, when I rested for the night
I was kept awake by discontent.

One such day, she graced my sight,
A serene lake that left me so dazed
As I rested in her lap, I felt that night
Lighter than I had in many days.

Came morning, came the time to leave
(for I may not stop but at the end of the road)
So, dutifully ahead marched my feet
While my heart stayed back in its newfound home

Soon I was back, I could go no more
"And this is the end", to myself I said
The end, not a place that has no further to go
But a place you'd stop at, no matter what lay ahead

The Real Me

July 10th, 2008.

Over the years, as I grew old
Many a thing I lost to the world
Purses and pens, keys and money,
And the most precious of them all - The Real Me.

Was that her, The Real Me,
That kid at school that loved to read?
Oh no, that kid only read
So she could be the teacher's pet.

What about this sweet lady here,
A loving friend and a caring mother?
Oh no, this woman cares only so
Some day she will be cared for.

So where is she, The Real Me?
I cannot feel her anywhere in me.
Over the years, her have I lost
In trying to be someone I'm not?