Tag Archives: belief

Illusion or Authenticity!

I dreamt

I dreamt of beautiful things

I dreamt with open eyes.

All my life I was taught

To dream big

Fly high

And so with open eyes

I dreamt of open skies.

Of peace, calm

And of little love.

I have dreamt of inane faith

And believed

That everything will find its way.
Oh- I pictured everything

Of what I wanted

Of dreams that kept me haunted.

What and how and why and when

I thought of everything

That will in reality

Happen again.

The smiles

Engraved

The twinkling eyes

Unscathed

Like a novice, I was in my imagination,

Engaged!

I dreamt of everything

Didn’t leave anything.

Every tiny detail

From today, tomorrow,

And yesterday.

Oh- I sinned.

Oh- I dreamt big.

Dreams don’t come true

Now reality will

Teasingly bite on you.

But wait-

It all came true.

It all did.

What and how and why and when

Every magical kiss again

Everything the way

My open eyes had engraved.

No detail left

And love no more bereft.

Only, there was a little alteration

Everything happened

The way it was meant to be.

The way my heart wanted to see.

But for that one little thing

A tiny little fling.

The dream did come true

Just the way I had thought through

Only-

Only when it came to reality

The dream was not meant for me.

The what

The how

The why

The when

All became a living reality

Only not for me.

Someone else came in a swift

And lived my dream

Instead of me.

Was it not

My dream?

It all happened

Just the way I wanted

But I did not live it.

Jealousy and anger- My sin

I am only human after all.

For years I pined for those wings

And just as I was about

To touch them

Someone came and plucked them away.

My dream

Shattering into million little pieces

Tears brewing in my hollow eyes

But I can’t move.

The dream is all I had

Towards which I slogged

And with that gone

I am nothing but a meek fawn.

I am only a human after all

Succumbing to a painful fall

Lost in an empty desert

Where, in darkness

I howl, “It hurt.”

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An Unwilling Bouzouki

Sitting on chairs in proper alignment

It seems a long ago, when we students were huddled about,

Celebrating India’s independence was the days’ requirement

Making our English teacher proud.

 

Constantly, we had chided and pleased

To do something else as a substitute to teach,

We did it often, played adventures

Making memories after memories to one-day treasure.

 

She decided she’d ask a question to the vibrant youth

To which we would answer with sheer truth.

With defined wisdom she asked

“How will you want to see your country at long last?”

 

The question she asked was very simple

But it created in my mind a momentary ripple.

I raced with my newest friend, over thinking

Sitting there paralyzed, unblinking.

 

Speaking up in front of people was never my thing

And so I sat there; to time clinging, worshipping,

But we were only thirty students

And I persistently fought against my prudence.

 

Smiling, nodding I heard what my friends had to say

Pondering, how meaningful answers they had their way,

From eradication of poverty to building roads

To making luxury cheaper- their thoughts flowed.

 

And in less than forty minutes I was called on stage

When all I wanted to do was hide in a cage,

What is my favorite teacher going to think about my dumb thoughts

But still I erased blank, and joined the dots.

 

With face turned hot, ears red

I held the mike, but my lips dead.

I gathered myself, blinked and blurted

What my teacher thought- was the secret of my being introverted.

 

“If I live to be an old maiden

I want myself in the world (not country) to reawaken,

I want kindness; I want honesty and no chaos

I want peace; I want beauty and no havoc.

 

I fumbled; I fidgeted and put the mike down

Ashamed, I got down feeling like a clown,

I went to my seat, hiding my face

Wanting the few minutes to retrace.

 

Up until then I hadn’t herd

The deadening applause,

And so I sulked deeper amidst the nerds

For such words, I thought definitely had no cause.

 

Years from that day, I stand by those words

But if only I could change my verse,

Or better still I could have at least tried

To say everything for which my heart cried.

 

That day is gone

But I have a little strength now,

I have a little word play drawn

Perhaps, you’d tap with the button ‘Allow’.

 

If I live to be an old maiden

I want myself in the world (not country) to reawaken,

I’d love to see so many blessed things happen

That life itself would feel like a welcoming wagon.

 

If only I could find things a little different

My little sister would have taken birth for starters,

Or I wouldn’t have to be constantly belligerent

Being an orthodox Indian daughter.

 

I wouldn’t have to go to an all-girls school

Fearing boys and all the various rules.

Comparing myself to those who didn’t even go to school

I should have felt my life a little less cruel.

 

I’d want my grandmother to give me a kiss

For I never knew that bliss,

Or for my uncle to not give me that stare

For it was mortifying, I swear.

 

I’d want for no one to give me an eye

When I say I don’t want to learn cooking,

I’ll have different means to fly

Than just making all kinds of pudding.

 

I’d want a life where my mom does not persistently say

When you get married please take care of your husband,

Darling, you are not suppose to go astray

For your in-laws will have us trusted.

 

I’d want a life when I wouldn’t have to think some things

Like what can I study, so they never cut my wings,

Or how will I mange so many responsibilities

Work-husband-in-laws-kids-kitchen- a trillion little things.

 

I’d want a life where everything will not be ‘my’ duty

And I won’t have to be an absolute bouzouki,

Yes I’ll want peace and love and no havoc

I’ll want kindness, honesty and no mental chaos.

 

I’ll want a life where I consistently don’t have to remember

That I am a woman and somehow, somewhere I have to surrender,

I’ll want a life where I don’t want to stand in front of the mirror

And see incessantly how from him I differ.

 

Today, I have a little strength, a little clarity

So, please allow me to speak my dwarfish insanity,

If I live to be an old maiden

This is how I’ll want to end my cadence.

 

*

PS: Do tell me if I have started saying the same things again and again, and if my words have started being mundane! 

 

Her Mysterious Meshuga.

There is a whirlwind of chaos inside her

An entropy, a madness, a little emptiness

That ceases her sanity from within.

The mania, the frenzy, the wilderness

All a part of her nugatory existence.

 

The deadening disarray enchaining her minds

Building a claustrophobia

Which you may never succeed to define.

The restlessness, the anxiety, the neurosis

All a part of her woebegone reality.

 

She is imprisoned betwixt the chain and its steely embrace,

She resides inside the merciless bolt and clasp,

And yet she has the zeal to envisage dreams,

To live in a reverie, a trance, a ravishing fantasy,

Her weening tenacity terrorizing her pandemonium to feebly vamoose.

 

 

Hopes And Expectations!

Unknown

Just wondering..

While on the one hand you are striving towards it, and on the other there is only faith and a vain belief.

What exactly happens?

Does that belief turn into the expectations that we are taught not to have?

Or the hope itself is a reflection on the said expectations which we are not suppose to have?

Or, is there a fine line between hope and expectations which I am blinded not to see?

Or they are just two words trying to play with my mind?

Any thoughts?

 

Why Am I Not An Atheist?

I am a strong believer of God, yes I am.

Now before you judge me, hear me out.

I am not saying that I can strongly say that God exists, he is the one. I have some different beliefs. I am not saying that there are no questions regarding the God. Oh there are, there are many unanswered questions. Sometime I myself, keep asking about the past myths, the story that has been put forward of all the Gods. And if you are a Hindu, then I am pretty sure you have innumerable unanswered questions. And so do I, but I am still not an atheist.

I am a strong believer of God, yes I am.

You know, why? This is because of the fact that I pray. I am not saying that when I pray, ‘God’ gives me what I want. All I am saying is by praying I develop a sense of faith within me, that everything is going to be just fine, and I gain some strength to fight against the situations that I may be dealing with. Anything wrong in that? I don’t think so. When I pray, meditate, I don’t rely on God, there is no superlative magic that is going to move a wand in the air and all my problems would vanish, and all my wishes would come true. But I do believe that there is some supreme power in what I do, cause once I get the strength to deal with something, the optimism filled inside, I know everything will be all right. I borrow faith and hope from what we call “God”.

And that is why I am not an atheist.

I am a strong believer of God, yes I am.

I am not saying if someone is an atheist, he or she is wrong. They are right in their own way, how and what they feel, that I cannot tell. But they have their own beliefs, and so do I.

I may not say God is everything, but he is definitely something for me. I get the strength to believe in myself when I pray to him, when I chant his verses, when I just close my eyes and see through my inner senses the vision of “Om”. I feel peaceful, optimistic, and I regain belief.

And that is why I am not an atheist,

I am a strong believer of God, yes I am.

 

PS: I still believe that humanity is a religion above and beyond all other religions.

The Robbed Hope.

 

What is living without hope?

It is, an artist without his art,

A painting without colours.

 

What is living without faith?

It is, a song without the tunes,

And dance without music.

 

What is life without belief?

It is a story without characters,

A story without words.

 

Oh, the robbed hope is back again,

The hope which I had always lived by,

The hope which my spirit held so dear,

It has come out of its hidings.

Seven B&W Photos; Day 2

20150602_140745.jpg

 

This is a picture of Swaminarayan Temple, Gondal, Gujarat. I love Swaminarayan Temples for it’s sanctity, peace, and the calm which I feel nowhere else. Their structure, their ambiance gives me the kind of feeling which I have no place else. The only place where I can go and can avoid any form of niceties, greet someone with a polite ‘Jay Swaminarayan’ and be done with people and all kinds of formality.

I am participating in the Seven Days. Seven Black and White Photos of Your Life. No People. No Explanation. Challenge Someone New Each Day.

Today  I nominate Sifar from https://mybrokenwords.wordpress.com/