March On

March on, ye world
To the tune of this song.
To right every wrong,
Rise up, march on.

March on, ye young
To the strength of this thought.
When oppressed and fraught,
Brave heart, march on.

March on, ye child
To the promise of life.
When your future is strife,
With hope, march on.

Un-Equal

"Put the pieces back together
Get a hold on life",
It’s easy to say, so hard to do;
It’s easy to get used to strife.

Oh, but if there was a god,
Would he not stop my tears?
Would he not say, “Be happy child”,
And not steal away my years?

There is no god, there is no man,
There is no one who’d understand.
There is no one who wants me as I am.

The pain is there, it’s not enough,
I need to feel some more.
I need to burn and bleed us both,
Till we're not different anymore.

Oh, but if there was a man,
Would he not cast off his doubt?
Would he not say, "All people are one",
And not leave anyone out?

There is no god, there is no man,
There is no one who’d understand,
There is no one who wants me as I am.

There is somewhere a place for me,
Somewhere there is my family,
If not this world, there is the next,
My last reward for this cruel test.

There is a god, there is a man,
There is someone who’d understand,
There has to be someone who wants me as I am.

*What happens when discrimination takes its toll on a person's soul, when society casts out someone who is considered "unequal" to the rest by virtue of his/her gender, place of birth, skin color, or ancestry? Memories accumulate in the person's psyche, memories of hatred and fear - these memories will eventually end the human race itself someday.

Rage Against The World

What I hide is my soul turned raw,
What I mourn is childhood past.
What I miss most is my own laughter.
What I cry over is innocence lost.

What I seek is one minute of joy.
Whatever I find, you destroy.
What I see here is man-eat-man,
Whatever I give, you throw away.

What is it you want of me?
I'm better than you'll ever be.
What I have, you'll never have.
What I am, you can never be.

I am no Atlas, I am no god,
I am not perfect and not complete
I will not carry your scorn or wrath
I will not slash your wrist or wipe your tears.
You can never steal my work, my life
You can never rise beyond your narrow mind
You are but a figment of my imagination
You don't exist but as a world of the past.

All nice guys come with a catch. It could be something small like a poison dart, or something huge like a drunk driver coming towards you in the opposite direction. The point is, it's there, and it's fatal in the end. You are going to be wounded by it, and you will suffer. The only thing you can do is expect it and swerve at the right time. If you're the kind of person who likes to ignore all the bad things, then the least you can do is tell yourself that you knew it was coming after taking the hit.

Bored at work

The leaves - they sparkle yellow and green,
Like the absent words on my computer screen.
Into its depths I stare, I fall,
Waiting to hear it's siren call.

I have no office, I have no home,
I do no work and write no tome.
My life rolls down this rocky path,
Tempered each day with a hot bath.

The stink of rot surrounds my face,
I plead with God to hear my case.
God replies,"I am not here today,
Get out my child, go and play!"

The Art of Rebellion

When must you condone something that you know is wrong? So many times in life one has to face bad people doing bad things, and stand quietly by the roadside watching the show. On so many occasions, one sees someone fighting the world for the sake of what is right and chooses to turn their back on the courage and truth they perceive. What pushes a person to make that choice?

Somewhere along our way from childhood to adulthood, we are taught to be civilized and cultured. Behind this facade, we learn to conceal our emotions, our imaginations, and our individual conscience. Slowly, we start believing that this is actually the correct way to live, and all those idealistic fools who rally in support of their beliefs are losers and laughingstocks. As we gain higher social stature, any kind of stigma attached to our names becomes a source of secret despair and public humiliation. People go to great lengths to hide anything that might be perceived as a weakness or a chink in their armour. Any spark of rebelliousness or original thought is quickly doused with the cold spray of collective wisdom and social conscience.

For all that is said and done, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do". To live in this world of hypocrites, sometimes you have to look the other way. Sometimes, if you want to succeed in the long run, you have to compromise on issues close to your heart. They call it "strategy" in the big books we read. I call it waiting for the right time and turning your opponent's game on him or her. To play the game and win at it, sometimes you have to understand that a battle lost can win you the war.

Play on my friends, battle on to the end.

Lose not your soul now, salvation's around the bend!

Songs of Summer

Wakeful dreams of silk and gold,
Summer dreams of old:
Shelter through the heat and cold,
Simple dreams I sold.

Fleeting pleasures over time,
Sinful pleasures, all mine.
Softly, rising, morn' and night,
Slowly heartbeats climb.

Fading music, fading light,
Sultry music through the night,
Play the strings your soul demands,
No wrong, and no right.

Swiftly diving through it all
Waves of rise and fall.
Summer dreams, both new and old,
Watch how they unfold.

(You lose your heart to love's call,
You wake up and watch it fall.
Life calls back, summer ends too soon,
Love forever stays without you.

Don't look back on summer love.
Throw away its silken glove.
The songs you heard, you sang, are gone.
Your soul is burnt and eyes forlorn.

Do not cry for what is gone,
Never show your heart is torn,
For summer is a season at best,
Fading away with summer's crest.)

Summer dreams, they come and go,
Summer passing fast and slow.
What was done must fade away,
Once a child, now old & grey.

Ethical Dilemmas

My mind he seeks to illuminate,
Its thoughts he seeks to eliminate,
In this place where days fly by,
Moments he seeks to extricate.

Talking of things he's never really seen,
Of corners of the mind where he's never been,
Taking perspectives he knows nothing of;
Someone please scrub off his false shiny sheen.

No lessons we're learning, no joy are we earning,
No volume expansion, or fire of love burning.
The proverbial bucket with H's and U's
Arousing truth and the self - so he keeps droning.

Quell his ego, dear friends of mine,
Speaking of truth while his ignorance shines.
The mind's illusions surrounding his self,
(His so-called intelligence on a dusty shelf)
Where mind and self seldom entwine.

Sources of joy are very distracting,
The intellect, from its purpose, detracting.
He claims refinement, like the highest of men,
His thoughts and intellect never attracting.

Energy drives thought, making him weak,
So his mind is blank save an excitable streak.
Self-praising freak, babbling on and on...
For five MORE minutes, my future looks bleak.

:(

Stand up

Up and down and sway away,
Is today a better day?
Sail around thro' swirling cloud,
Summer has begun to grey...

There is mischief in the breeze
Hanging on the precipice.
Something tells me I have changed,
Crawling out of some crevice.

Falling through the whorls of time,
Falling out on what was mine.
Carry on with all my woes
And life becomes another mime.

Colours fade and so do I,
Music fades and melodies cry.
Tomorrow is a better day,
Today for I must learn to fly.

Envelope of darkness

All good things come in threes; so do bad ones. My life often deviates from this well-defined path, often venturing into realms of infinite horror and darkness. When I joined this institution, I'd imagined that I would live a peaceful life, free of conflict and torture of the kind I have faced before. How naive I was to think that I was among mature and intelligent people! Once again, I am in a colony of fools, their heads filled with age-old prejudices, with the maliciousness that is exclusive to slackers and "second-raters". Belief in so-called friends has become nothing more than a big joke. Loneliness takes on a whole new meaning, with alienation no longer being a matter of choice, but survival instead. What is the value of honesty in this environment? I had hoped these people actually followed some ethics atleast when it came to their work; once again, I have been proven wrong. My ego scolds me for pitying myself, for being so ignorant and trusting, saying, "When will you accept things as they are? When will you understand that this is the way all people are, everywhere, and without exception?"

These questions echo inside my head, and the only argument I can think of is that there are exceptions - I know there are. There have to be some people in this world who realize that there is something wrong with the the way others behave. There has to be someone who stands against this practise of cannibalism : one human devouring another human being. I still believe it is worth my time to find these people, so that I can make sense of this world that seems to have gone crazy.* I have to know that I am not alone. I have to be strong and go on, and I have to find my hope and make my life the way I want it to be.

*I remembered at this point that I have always found the world I live in to be highly irrational and just plain old dumb sometimes. It makes me wonder whether the world has gone crazy, or have I always been so different from the crowd that I have always been alone.

MISs or MISter?

Systems down, systems drown.

Worship the geek, polish his crown.

Systems to buy, systems to sell,

But who threw them down my well?

Spreadsheets and mail, graphics and ware,

Managers cowed and hunched with care,

Word and access, Explorer and 'Fox,

With logic defining every paradox.


Giving commands to the master of us all,

Only to be mocked by a firewall.

Talk about the net, surfing or browsing-

Unless its porn, you'll find us drowsing.


Processing words and publishing screens,

Talking chips and murderous greens;

Who drowned the system? 'Twas some nut,

Trying to outsource his data glut.


Licensing software protects your rights,

Like the poor protected by *Men in Tights.

Systems minimizing human intervention,

The death of all thought and invention.


Welcome to the world of the virtual,

A time for sharing, not getting physical,

Windows popping as the confusion grew,

My well, down,
That system,
Farting,
Threw,
Who?!


*Men in Tights refers to Robin Hood and his merry band of robbers, who used to steal from the rich (especially Evil Prince John). This reference is taken from the title of the movie "Robin Hood - Men in Tights", an old movie that is a spoof of the original version.

Winter brings equal parts of loneliness and joy with it. When there is no one to talk to, no one to share the warmth with, then one believes one is better off feeling the chill take over. What meaning does the bleakness of the cold wind take, when there is no one you can look forward to meeting at the end of that road you're walking on? What cheer can the bright colours of the season bring when there is no one you'd want to show them off to? When the clouds come by so close you can touch them, who is there to stop you from wanting to fly away with them? The cold can kill a man, but being so lonely can make him wish he was dead.

When you look out into the night sky, do you hear the world calling out to you? Who is to stop you from getting lost in that crowd?

When the whole world is against you, rallying for your downfall, who is beside you, teaching you how to stand tall and proud on your own?

Winters come and go, yet life never changes. Only the people in it change, for what is life, "but a stage, and all men and women merely players."

The Jolly Miller of Dee

There was a jolly miller once
Lived on the River Dee.
He worked and sang from morn' to night
No lark more blithe than he.
And this is burden of his song
Forever used to be,
"I care for nobody, no, not I,
If nobody cares for me.

I love my mill,
It is to me like parent, child and wife.
I would not change my station now
With anyone in life."
And this the burden of his song
Forever used to be,
"I care for nobody, no, not I,
If nobody cares for me."

This is the bastardized version of this lovely song we were taught as kids, and for those of you interested in reading the actual thing, here's the link-
http://ingeb.org/songs/millerof.html

The End

These ways, I wonder where they lead,
As doubt scatters and takes seed...
Beauty is broken, love repulsed,
Fate looked on as man convulsed.

Ashes return and turn into tears,
Days lost in these few years;
The darkness spells impending doom,
As He weaves with his bloodstained loom.

Water be still, oceans be calm,
Fire hold me in your flaming palm,
Air take my soul from this land.
Earth - this body shall rest in your sand.

Sometimes...

Sometimes, you just can't stay down. You're not allowed to. I have my friends to thank for that :)

Sometimes, you care too much about someone, who doesn't care about you at all. That really hurts.

Sometimes, you have to stop caring about someone who doesn't care about you, or when you can't afford to. That hurts even more, like someone's crushing your chest from the inside.

Sometimes, you can listen to a few songs, and start smiling or crying. Thats something you laugh about later when you regain your senses.

Sometimes, you prefer pillows to real people. That's really pathetic.

Sometimes, you're so desperate for affection that you'll sell your soul for a bit of it. That's plain stupid.

Sometimes, you get nightmares in bright light, and only the darkness can soothe you. That is rather disturbing and chilling.

Sometimes, you'd rather be ripped up with a knife than feel whatever it is you're feeling at the moment. You wish someone could do that to you. That's self-destructive and suicidal.

Sometimes, you want to sleep, but are too afraid to. You're afraid of losing control over your thoughts and your mind. That's insanity.

Sometimes, I talk too much. That's why I'm a moron :)

Lone Verse

I am alone, a lone verse
A stanza of laughter and tears alike,
Read, judged, discarded; now here, now gone,
I am alone.

I am a lone object, a rock,
Found too wanting, wanting too much;
A sponge, absorbing all, a thirsty stone;
I am alone.

I am a lone, laughing, rhyming song,
Seen and read, and enjoyed by all,
Needed by all, wanted by none -
I am alone.

I'll always be a lone verse,
A comical model of the universe's errors,
Hope my curse, ignorance my bane,
Walking through hell, alone.

I am a lone verse
A tragedy of errors and doomed
To forever exist
Alone.

A Good Poem

Soft, tranquil, meaningful, beautiful,
Is what a poem should be,
Not harsh, dull or hoplessly long:
The way your life you see.

You think to yourself-
The world's got frivolity AND misery;
But how, into your poem, can you
Bring something you never feel- serenity?

Your mother tells you to calm down,
Advising you to express your creativity
In the ways of Wordsworth, Keats and Ezekiel;
All they speak of is beauty and tranquility!

You are supposed to be different,
Not the way the world wants you to be.
You are to be that unique woman
Who's capable of preserving her sanity.

How, then, can you write a good poem
With levelheadedness and equanimity,
When the world around you is going crazy?
Well, you can write that poem without me!!

The Journey

Sometimes…
Miracles occur when darkness ends
Some special person, lover, friend –
A light at the endless tunnel’s end.

Sometimes…
Life plays magick tricks on you
The world is dark, life is blue;
God sends help, you get through.

Sometimes…
My mind’s adrift, my soul is lost,
Nights are misery, days overcast;
Get through it: it’s all in the past.

Sometimes…
The winds, they change, from frisky to foul;
A work of art, twisted – God’s mural.
The skies clear, sun shines, rains fall.

Sometimes…
Everything goes as I had planned –
Another time, another day, another land…
I grasp my life in the palm of my hand.

Lessons of Life

When everything else in the world goes wrong:
No hope nor love, cheer nor song;
When there’s no one who cares to help –
That is when you turn to yourself.

Our minds, our thoughts move god’s hands
Like paltry winds that shift Sahara’s sands.
You are what you want to be;
As you sow, so you reap.

There is the man who says that, “If
I know not how, how may I live?
Nor will I try to – yet, I shall grow,
But off the sweat of another’s brow.

To carry the burden of one who feeds
Off your blood, ignoring your needs;
Cast him out so he may learn
To fall, then stand- to toil, and earn.

Mistakes you’ve made, purgatory you’ve faced.
Today, be better than what you’ve been.
Dream of what you cannot imagine;
Tomorrow be greater than what you’ve seen.