Oblivion

Fighting deep inside the mind

Tangled in the trenches of polemics

Diving in cavernous oceans, seeking treasures

Oh, where am I?

Lost in oblivion?

Confused, Doubtful and trying to think

Still ending nowhere

Sometimes happy, blissful

At the other moment blue

Oh, where am I? Give a clue.

Somewhere out of this world?

Somewhere in the past or at a place new?

Oh, is this nothingness, is this oblivion?     

Many a times we are unable to speak what we wish to say. We want to express something to the person we like so much but can't gather the enough courage required for that. We hope our message to reach the person by itself, the wind being the messenger in between. But this happens so rarely and our message seldom reaches its destination.

WIND

What I saw, I say to the wind

And I hope that the wind would carry it

And speak my message to the person,

To the one it’s meant to be.

But the wind doesn’t act as I wish

It stops motion, comes to a standstill

Neither my message reaches, nor comes any reply

And helpless I stand, waiting for the wind to comply.

                                                                                        

Social-Mental Freedom and Economic Independence Yet To Come

India celebrates its Independence Day on 15^th August every year. On this day its peoples remember the long and gallant struggle for independence and pay homage to the martyrs who dedicated their life fighting for independence. Let it be Mahatma Gandhi or whether it be Shaheed Bhagat Singh; heroes ranging from a variety of backgrounds and professing different ideologies are remembered and reminisced for their great and unselfish contributions to a noble cause: that of gaining independence for India. But one question we must consider at this point- Are we really free? Is India really independent? Or the sacrifices of the freedom-fighters have been in vain.

Different people would choose different ways to answer this particular question. One might answer this question in positive saying that yes, India is free and independent. Another person may not agree. It’s a matter of debate that India has got true freedom or not but one thing one must agree upon is that India is a politically sovereign nation. But political independence isn’t everything, is it. Social, economic and cultural freedom and independence are much important too. Let me just tell you about my personal opinions on this issue.

First of all I would point out that freedom and independence, though often used synonymously, are in fact two different things. Independence, as defined by Wikipedia is “a condition of a nation, country, or state in which its residents and population, or some portion thereof, exercise self-government, and usually sovereignty, over the territory.” So we come to know that independence is when a country/nation is somewhat self-sufficient and is sovereign. On the other hand freedom is really a very complex and much more philosophical concept than independence. Freedom and Liberty are two closely related thoughts though some differences exist between the two. Freedom and Liberty have been described by various thinkers and philosophers in numerous manners and mean differently in diverse contexts. A common definition of liberty, as given by Wikipedia, is “the ability of individuals to have agency (control over their own actions)” So liberty is something like breaking free of unnecessary bondages; it is a state of being free of subjugation; a condition where everyone can walk with dignity and everyone has got equal rights. Freedom, liberty and independence are three closely-knitted notions yet there exists difference between them. Also, when we refer to freedom or liberty we mostly mean it implying on individuals and society rather than nations. Independence is a term which we use for individuals and societies as well as society. We many a times speak of a society as free, then we mostly mean how much freedom that society offers to its constituent individual members.

India as a nation is independent, as it is sovereign, exercises its own government in its territory and so on. There can be no disagreement on this as I have stated earlier. But India as a free society hasn’t got good records to boast of. Also individual independence often goes unaddressed in India. Still as a society, India’s individual lacks many basic freedoms. The most notable of these freedoms are social and mental freedom. The type of independence that the Indian individual lacks is economic. Poverty is perhaps the bitterest reflection of economic dependence in our society. Malnutrition, disease, illiteracy, corruption and homelessness are the results that follow and further intensify social and mental slavery among people. Violence against women, crime, pressure from family to marry a certain person or to follow a certain profession and other such common happenings exemplify the lack of social freedom in our society.

But perhaps the most dangerous and hazardous type of slavery that lingers us is mental slavery. This type of slavery comprises of superstition, irrationalism and the inability to think. It means blindly following anything like a flock of sheep and not thinking of where it would lead to. It includes lack of curiosity and it consists of ignorance. Unfortunately many Indians, ranging from old people to the young youth has fallen for this type of slavery. If we don’t break free of the shackles of mental slavery we might eventually succumb to something like Nazi Germany or Francoist Spain: strong outside, but weak internally; a nation which is independent but its people aren’t free. One thing we need to do is to step out of darkness to light. It hurts at first but you soon get used to it and the world becomes brighter.

            

              

The Mushroom Cloud

Here is a poem by me. We are perfectly aware of the atomic bombs dropped over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But was that really important? Didn't it result into annihilation of entire townships? This poem asks the importance of the mushroom cloud, the inevitable symbol of nuclear explosion. We cannot cook this particular 'mushroom'. So what's the purpose of such a thing?        

The poem is titled the Mushroom Cloud and goes like this:

What purpose does the mushroom cloud serve?

It is inedible, an entire waste.

Poison it is, poisonous taste.

You can’t cook it

No recipe in the books

You can’t roast it

Oh so deadly looks.

Only one purpose it seems it serves

It represents the kills

And it really hurts.

You Cannot Kill Ideas

"While revolutionaries as individuals can be murdered, you cannot kill ideas." said Thomas Sankara. This is true that a person might be killed or annihilated but his ideas never die. They continue to live among the hearts and minds of people and continue to inspire people.Nobody knows who the tank-man is or about his whereabouts but still he continues to motivate us. Similarly people like Gandhiji, Safdar Hashmi and Che Guevara might have been assassinated but their thoughts still live with us, in us.That is perhaps why I say :-

मैं आज हूँ, 

कल न रहूँगा,

यह कविता आज भी है,

और कल भी रहेगी.

I have also written a poem on the Tank-man, a man whose courage is worth admiration and taking inspiration from.

Tank man

You can kill me

You can annihilate me

Murder me if you can

But please remember one thing

Exterminating my body

Will not kill my ideas

I will be alive

In my ideas

My thoughts will continue to live.

    

Statistics

A thousand suns, a thousand stars,

A thousand days, a thousand nights,

A million truths, a million lies,

A million smiles, a million cries.

A thousand boons, a thousand banes,

A thousand lost, a thousand gains,

A million blessings, a million curses

A million soldiers, a million nurses.

A thousand guns, a thousand bombs,

A thousand ships, a thousand tanks,

A million planes, a million graves,

A thousand squadrons, a thousand ranks.

A thousand seas, a thousand skies,

A thousand wagons, a thousand carts,

A million heads, a million eyes

A million hands, yet zero hearts.        

The Great Mongols

 Descendants of Genghis Khan

come riding on their thoroughbred horses;

Their excellent horse archers,

aiming, shooting at the targets.
They come like a thunderstorm

vanish as if a tornado;

They leave behind nothing but the dead

and stinking burnt debris of once magnificent cities.

Catastrophic, devastating, these warriors

come riding from the heart of Mongolia;

Hungry for killing, thirsty for blood

here come the Great Mongols.

Africa dying

In the fierce heat of Africa
a child sits
malnourished, dying slowly of hunger.
He is starving;
yet no body comes to help...
he is thirsty;
the fierce heat of Africa.
In the background a vulture sits,
watching,waiting
for the child to die.
It all happens...

In the fierce heat of Africa. 

Che

A sketch of Che Guevara drawn by me.

Stagnation

It’s a silent world,

with no enthusiasm at all.

It’s a world with no hunger

for any departures in the unknown.

Such a world it is,

which is decaying inside

but despite this hollow in the center

it is still extravagant outside.

A stagnant world, it stands

with no exploration, no change

no new things invented,

no discovery ever takes place.

In such a world where nothing happens

and everything is at standstill,

there is no progress made,

no new arts and sciences come.

Such a world is suffocating, I guess,S

with its windows closed it is.

It needs to open up its windows

so that fresh air can come,

bringing with itself new hunger, new enthusiasm. 

Exploitation

A little boy, not more than thirteen,

carries a plastic sack on his back,

along with him are his siblings and mother.

Picking up urban garbage, they are.

With sticks in hands to pick up waste,

barefoot and barely clothed,

this team of garbage cleaners,

searches for its evening supper.

With empty stomachs, starving for food,

they lift the waste and put it in their sacks,

they try hard for a meal,

but most times their efforts go in vain.

Hegemony

Two peoples live, in respective worlds of their own,

with their individual identities.

These two peoples, unknown to each other,

finally make a rendezvous.  

These two peoples are different from each other,

thus they behave like strangers.

They find each other idiotic and barbaric

and are unable to acknowledge each other’s customs.

They have conceited views,

and conceitedness often leads to fights.

These two peoples fight constantly

they quarrel for no reason.

Eventually, one party becomes more superior

and destroys the other group.

And hence this party brings home so-called glory

and thus establishes hegemony. 

The Rabbit, the dog and the human

There sits a rabbit in the garden.

Its snow-white fur contrasts with

The green fresh grass.

Suddenly a dog comes into the scene.

It pounces on the rabbit.

The rabbit somehow manages to escape.

The dog chases the rabbit further on.

A human sees the dog

How can he tolerate such cruelty?

So, he picks up some pebbles.

And then he throws them at the dog.

The dog runs away,

But the human continues to pursue.

He is enjoying the exercise.

The dog accepts his defeat

But the human, who is still enjoying,

Continues to shoot more and more stones.

And in this way the savior of one

Becomes the oppressor of others.

  

Mosquito

So, one day i met a mosquito,

this one was fat

and its belly was full of blood.

So, i asked this minute vampire,

“Why do you suck blood Ms. Mosquito?”

This little devil replied

that she has a life too...

So, it was a satisfactory reply

but i asked this diabolic miniature

“Why do you suck blood of ours?

We have a life too.”

And then this creature replied

“Why are you asking?

We suck blood out of you

but you are so selfish

that you suck blood of your fellows.”

                                                                         

                                                                                                                  

The Sun

Today the sun descends

And darkness spreads

But the sun is still there

Lighting some other corner

Tomorrow it will come up again
Illuminating this world.

Colonialism

They came, they saw

They realized the wealth

Then we were powerful

So they waited and waited till

We were weak and fragmented.

Then at the proper moment

They made the offensive and

Left us defeated and conquered.

For many years they ruled us

But we didn’t like this oppressive reign

We spoke against them

They said they wouldn’t leave

But ultimately they had to leave

Because their time was over

And then we won.

Questions

Questions

What is Science?

What is Philosophy?

What is Art?

What is Virtue?

What is vice?

Who is good?

What is truth?

What is right?

What is wrong?

Who is the human?

What is morality?

Is it necessary?

What is law?

Is it a flaw?

What is birth?

What is death?

What is reason?

What is doubt?

What is the world?

What exists?

What doesn’t?

What is unknown?

What is existence?

Is there god?

How can you say?

What is liberty?

What is justice?

What is equality?

Are all men equal?

If yes, then how?

If no, then why?

What is love?

What is hatred, jealousy, selfishness?

What is nature?

What makes me?

Who am I?

Che and me

Che and Me

I never met him, I never saw him

Never heard him speak.

I saw a photograph of him once

In that beret and those green overalls.

I could say he must be a revolutionary

But of what type? This I didn’t know.

I searched for information regarding him

Though the net and some books

And then I came to know about this Argentine-Cuban.

But for me he was not a man belonging to just a nation

If he belonged somewhere, it was humanity.

I came to know about his motorcycle adventures

I came to know about the Revolution in Cuba.

And then I read about the New Man

And then came the Congolese Revolution.

Finally came Bolivia, where he was fighting the oppressive regime.

And then I knew the fate of this revolutionary.

He was captured, and then executed by the government.

 Various people had various views regarding him

Some like me thought of him as a hero

There were many who criticized him.

But what was the truth of this man?

What was he actually was I cannot tell

But for me he was a human

A human who left his possessions to fight

For the destitute, and for those who were suffering.

For me he was a real revolutionary.

Che may have been murdered long ago

But still his ideas live.

Still he is there spreading the notion of revolution.

When Priests Rule

 When Priests Rule

In India it is a priest-ridden culture. Ultimately everything here is linked to religion and when all other methods fail the only savior to be called upon is the communicator between the known and the unknown, the priest who claims to be the link to god. People tend to believe blindly in the priest and the salvation which he promises, ignoring reason and logic. Belief is all right but when it loses reason then it becomes a burden and instead of virtue it becomes a vice. Emma Goldman said that:-“I don’t believe in god because I believe in man”. This statement carries much meaning. Instead of believing in itself and in humanity the human starts to believe in the so-called supernatural. Nothing is above nature and if it is it must have a reason behind it. All I say is that if any phenomenon takes place it should have a sound reason behind it.

 Provide me a reason and I shall believe what you say

Throughout the passages of history there have been many civilizations and states where priests have been a dominant factor. The medieval period of Europe, the Central American Aztecs, the Ancient Egyptian civilization and the present Indian culture are some examples to mention. When priests rule the masses suffer. When you are said not to question then the intellectual spirit dies and it takes a long time to revive. Religion was used as a tool for statecraft. Keep people busy by addicting them with religion. In the middle ages when serfs demanded equality and freedom they were said: - Such a kingdom is only possible in the kingdom of god. Earth is not heaven. “Religion is the opium of the masses”- Karl Marx said. In the name of religion numerous wars have been carried out. (Although most of them were for political and economic purposes but the name of religion has been used to intrigue the masses.) A priest-ridden society acts like a catalyst for an autocratic rule. It binds people in some specific limits and thinking above that limit is considered blasphemy. The Inquisition of churches can be regarded as a condemnable example of the priest-ridden culture. Religion is a factor that has been responsible for the shattering of many big civilizations. As we know today, the Aztec civilization was a priest-ridden culture. The Spanish took advantage of it and became the masters of the Central American lands. When Cortes landed in Mexico he was regarded as The Feathered Serpent Quetzalcoatl and was treated as a guest of the king. When the Aztec people realized his true motives and tried to get rid of him it was too late. Aztec society was much more priest-ridden than this. It was a culture in which everything was consulted with the priest. It was so priest-ridden that human sacrifices were performed in their temples and wars were waged to get more people for this requirement. In this culture where priests and kings ruled, the common subject suffered. Ancient Egypt was such a civilization too. Emperors were worshiped as demigods and when they died they were given the title of a full god. In this land of the Pharaoh wealth was limited to the priesthood and the few powerful figures. In this system the commonest of the common man perished. India along with many other nations is turning towards this priest-ridden culture. This priesthood is one reason for the decline of the artistic, philosophical and scientific of humans. Here you are expected to not ask questions. Here you are said not to doubt. Progress can never come in such a limited and irrational society. The priest-ridden societies will remain stagnant and will eventually decay. When water flows it is fresh and lively, when it is stagnant it decays. The same is true for civilizations. For humanity to advance it will require proper spirit and such a spirit is considered blasphemy in a priest-ridden culture. Let Reason Prevail.       

Predators of the urban Jungle

Who says beasts are going extinct?

Who says forests are vanishing from our habitat?

I don’t think so; I have got no reason to believe so.

Greenery may be disappearing and

lions and tigers and leopards and jaguars may be at risk;

but still a new kind of jungle is flourishing and

there are more beasts than there ever used to be.

Whenever a lion is shot a new beast is born.

Whenever a tree is uprooted it paves the way for a new grey jungle.

Forest tracts are being converted into a forest of buildings and

gravel and asphalt are replacing the fertile top soil.

Now the Predators are not the lions in the Savannah.

The Predators are not the tigers of the Mangrove Swamps.

Nor the Snow Leopard of the snow clad mountains is a predator,

neither the jaguar of tropical rainforests.

If there is any predator left in the Present day’s World

it is the man of the Urban Jungle.

Are we really free?

To say there is freedom

There is freedom of everything

But is this really true

Are we really free?

Are we just slaves of corruption?

Servants of crime

Are we just people

Who fear day and night?

Why don’t we break these chains?

 Step out of this world

To a new earth

Where the rays of sun shine

Show the beginning of a new era

We don’t step up

Just because we are afraid

Why don’t we remember?

 The men who have fought against

We know the people           

But we just pray and withdraw

Why don’t we continue with their task?

Why don’t we do, start from where they left

We remember the dark round face

Those moustaches and specs

He fought against and was murdered

I ask again, are we really free

Or we are just salves of corrupts and criminals

A Fine Early Morning

It was still dark

The sun had not risen

The city was at sleep

But the country had just started.

It was monsoon

The season of rain

It was the moon

Disappearing Again.

 The sun was rising

Its hue was brilliant

 The shades and tints,

The color of the gallant.

Blue to red

The atmosphere was turning

The sun was orange

And the birds were chipping.

The gentle breeze blowed

As the river flowed

Trees and shrubs were all green,

The fresh dew on the leaves.

Farmers going to paddy fields,

And then the temple bell peals,

Ladies moving to the well

And again tolls the temple bell.

The Guru

One day, looking for enlightenment 
I was foraging in the vast kingdom of knowledge, as usual.
I had hope that within this seemingly endless ocean
There must be a lamp of wisdom,
Which could make the whole world shine
Like sparkling stars in the sky.

I thought that beneath this vast open space
Spreading throughout as a boundless ocean
Somewhere there would be some ring, crown or tiara
That would provide unlimited power,
Power to think, debate and reason.

Questing for that “key to enlightenment”
I searched here and there
Until in front of me
I found an old, scholarly figure.
Looking at him I started asking questions,
Who are you? Where are you from?
What are you doing here?

Then that man opened his mouth,
Gave the answer to all my questions
And when he spoke I remained silent
May be, I had found what I was looking for,
I had found the answer to all my problems.

Antichrist Vs. Antichrist

Two allegorical figures 
stood between flames
encircling them from all sides
in a ring of fire.
They looked full of anger
hatred, enmity, antagonism
They looked like Philistines, barbarians
incapable of appreciating art, love , peace, beauty.
It looked like it was the final battle
between Antichrist and Antichrist

Human

I can think doesn't make me a thinker
I can know doesn’t make me knowledgeable 
I can feel doesn't make me sensitive
I can explain doesn’t make me a professor
I can be good doesn’t make me the best
I can be bad doesn’t make me the worst
I can appreciate doesn’t make me a patron
I can like doesn’t make me an aficionado
I can be liked doesn’t make me charismatic
I can love doesn’t make me a lover
I can be loved doesn’t make me attractive
I can hate doesn’t make me a misanthrope
I can be hated doesn't make me hateful
I can be a non believer doesn’t make me a misotheist
I can be a theist doesn’t make me orthodox
I can take risks doesn't make me venturesome
I can write doesn’t make me a poet
But still I can be compassionate
And it certainly makes me a human.

Return of Quetzalcoatl

Men in iron armors
came in ships, landed on the shore
Seemingly the king allowed them inland
marking it as the return of
the feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl.
Omens did warn
Events did try to tell
that the mighty king Montezuma
had welcomed his own death.
This procession that landed in Mexico
was not heavenly but of the Spanish
The man who was confirmed as the feathered serpent
was not Quetzalcoatl but Cortes.
These conquistadors waited for their chance
and finally they established themselves
and the mighty Mesoamerican empire
fell in the hands of colonizers.
An entire civilization came to an end
only ruins were left
the passion of the Spanish for gold
resulted into a major theft.
The ones who were prosperous
now starved for food
the race that was feared once
were now dragged my chains.
But still it was a return of a god,
the god of devastation
in the disguise of Quetzalcoatl

Siege of Leningrad

For almost 900 days 
a city was cut from supplies
surrounded by all sides,
still it survived.
Fast and swift attacks
let the city be rubble
unimaginable by the scene
unimaginable was the trouble.
Among those ruins
corpses were left open
for the rolling eyes of scavenges
it felt like a place better than heaven.
But still among these series of attacks
the city did not become extinct
there was still a hope
a group of people did exist.
Waiting for relief
2 years passed by
and still there was no sight
the enemy was all around.
Finally the brigade arrived
and the people were rescued
but in these 2 years
a lot had changed.
In this period
they had seen destruction
living in debris and stones
they wanted reconstruction
In this small period of time
these men and women witnessed centuries
a single minute for them
was as long as a millennium.
these years for them
were not an act of heroism
but it was an event of destruction
it was the dehumanization of man.
The survivors of Leningrad
will never see themselves as heroes
but always as victims
targets of greed, envy and hatred.

History of Tommorow

A historian once wrote
a history never written
it was not a history of the past
but the history of tomorrow.
Thinking for hours
not taking rest
he ultimately took a pen
and scribbled it all on paper.
His words began
as he was a soothsayer
his words had confidence
as if he had himself looked into the future.
He narrated the tale
a tale that was predicted
he said that there would be no oil
no uranium, on coal and only water.
Streams would dry up
and rivers would be salty
large gigantic waves from the sea
would shape humanity's destiny.
He said that there would be every technology
but there would be no power
and we will drive our way back to prehistory
only difference being we would be not living in caves
but in rubble and ruins
we would not be hunting for animals
but greed would make us to
kill humans itself.

Sea of Darkness

Spreading across vast distances
it had drowned many villages in it
considered as unlucky by the locals
It was a site nobody wished to go
Its waters were dark as graphite
its depth had many mysteries in it
Its darkness told stories of the past
stories which were never repeated again.
A dark story which lies beneath it
tells the story of a legendary battle
in which warriors clanked their arms
and took the life of their enemies.
Their red glorious blood drained into this lake
and decayed for many long years
and now it has turned the lake into black
and now if you wish to know
the secret of its darkness
you would learn at once
that things decay and today's present will be tomorrow's past.

Reviving Past Glory

It is hard to believe
that we are being attacked
It is hard to believe 
that we have been ransacked.
It is unbelievable
that we are going down
It is shocking
that fallen have our towns.
It is unimaginable
that we are in crisis
we may find it silly
that we are wasting time in analysis
It is hard to believe again
that we are living in hell
We are still thinking
how our past glory fell.
But still we will have to believe
all these things unbelievable
because the present is much different
than the gone old fable.
But we must believe one thing more
that we must not only believe
we shall also do something
so that when we are gone,
it is something 'unbelievable' we leave.

Brain Washed

I am filled with hatred
I am willing to make war
I don't know what is love
I have never heard about it
Nor I know peace, humanity or affection
But I know what is justice
And I am fighting for it
I have been denied Liberty
thus I have learnt not to let others be free
So I stand for the cause
To produce the ultimate result
So that no other person lives life like hell
So that no other person is denied justice
And this state could only be reached
By the supreme way
of the total destruction of the earth.

Changing into Stone

One day we advanced from cavemen to a civilized community
our community began cutting trees and clearing land
we started making small settlements
these turned into villages
some of these turned into towns
and a few ultimately into cities
but slowly we divided, started differentiating ourselves
we cut the earth into many pieces
all of them known as countries
we made allies and also enemies
we fought war and also made peace
and slowly we advanced more
we started conquering other lands
thinking that they are ours
we named them protectorates or colonies
but this system could not last long
the others were now educated too
they threw us away from their land
and rejected the claims of all colonizers
we advanced more and more
our cities touched the skies
but still only our technologies advanced
and our hearts turned into that of stone
and today when we walk on the streets of our cities
we look like machine men with machine hearts and machine minds

Season of Change

On that day when heavy winds blew
On that day when bright was the hue
On that day when nobody knew
That it was the season of change.
It was the day when in the sky
The moon present at day
The sun shone at night
It was strange but it was good
As it was the season of change
It was a day when there was light
The flag waved
At such a height
It was red but it was good
As it was the season of change
It was a day when the people were on streets
Granted independence
Now they were free
The laws had changed but it was good
As it was the season of change
It was a day when the eagle soared
The horse neighed
The lion roared
It was wild but it was good
As it was the season of change
On that day songs were sung
Bells rung and banners hung
As it was the season of change