Random - Routine

Don’t know how, why, but right now I am on a spaceship observing the earth, the people, and their lives. By the looks of this Spaceship it seems to be too advanced, so let us assume I’m on an Alien spaceship. You could also assume I’m sitting with God, but then again, being agnostic, I can’t really suggest you that, and being not-atheist, I kind of have to. So I did.

Though all of us think that we follow some kind of a routine, from up here everyone seems to be eager, too eager, to go to someplace they don’t even know. They seem to be looking for something, for someone; everyone seems so busy, too rushed, to find that something. Everyone seems to overlook the beauty and awesomeness of their lives, everyone seems to be sad. Well, when I say everyone, I mean all adults: The people who are supposed to follow routines, and rules. They seem to live a really complex life; full of entropy and their thoughts seems to be lifeless and sadistic. To my awe, infants on the other hand seem to lead a simple, routine life. Their thoughts are less concerned with problems and are full of dreams; they are practically handicapped, and depend on others for everything, but still they seem to be content and happy.

 “Well, the little toddler has hardly seen the hardships of life, he is provided for and taken care of, how can you compare the two specimens, they are completely different”, the alien beside me said. I seem to have no problem to get over the fact that I’m talking to an alien, and replied, “Well, you have got a point, but let us compare their basic goals of a day: Both want to eat, feel loved, and succeed. Yes, the infant wants to succeed in perceiving the complexities of a toothbrush, but, if we consider the scenario that both of them fail in their task; who seems to be more pessimistic about the next day, who seems to lament on yesterday.” I seem to have made my point, in a better way than my Alien Friend, so he leaves. In the complexities of nature, we fail to or maybe chose not to, see the crudeness and the simplicity around us. For intellectuals especially engineers or people who are stimulated by mathematics, this won’t be a surprise; that almost every shape, design, pattern found in nature follow, or approximately follow an equation, a mathematical equation. For example, just the other day I was reading a Wikipedia entry about the rhodonea curve, often called as the rose curve [equation], it can give you almost all the different kind of shapes, you would ever see in a Flower. From up here it is very clear that the earth is spherical, and the people living in it are so flat and 1-Dimensional, with no sense of so-called society, in the comforts of their own blankets no-one, thinks about a fellow human being dying of cold, not that I am saying this as a distant observer, or an Ideal exception case, I say this as a part of this breeding epidemic, we so proudly call society, I am just another by-stander following the Random-Routine, I am supposedly, supposed to follow.                                                                                                                                                                         Frustrated by all the heavy-thoughts I had been pondering on, I get up, to get to the bathroom, these people call it ‘the bin’, and somehow I know that, I enter the bathroom and standing in front of this huge mirror I realize; that I’m an Alien too.

Black & White

Backspacing every letter I write,
Dressed in pure black and white.
He grins at me with scorn
He tells me I am torn.

Deep inside the pitch black fort,
the Dark place they call a soul,
There I have been divvied up,
Into parts from a Whole.

He says, he is my counterpart,
The Holy one, without the heart.
We share our highs and our lows,
With our drinks and our Blow.

He stays away from the light,
His face is yet to be seen.
He usually comes at night,
When I am doped with my sleep.

Is he a Friend, an Enemy perhaps?
Is he real, or Is this all a Show,
Or is It just, my Own Damned Shadow.

That Girl

That Girl with the pale dead lips,

With scars on her body,

had black bordered blue eyes.

She reeked of Jasmine.

She somehow polluted everything,

The people, the dead, the unborns,

And she gave life,

To the life-less, the hope-less.

She radiated Light and hope,

Maybe be she was an angel.

Swinging on my chair,

In the porch, I think,

These memories of her

Have been always with me.

The door at my back opens,

I smell Jasmine,

My mother walks in.

Is this the Day I Die??

The waterfall at the other end of the world
Seems to be calling me,
I am short on everything- strength, words;
I fail to walk, I can’t see. Is this the Day I Die?

The unpredictability of the next second
Gives me the hope to survive.
How far can I walk in this Sand?
The mirage looks more precious than the sea,
It is too far away. Is this the day I die?

Here under the Sun over the sand, I lie
Dreaming of the Depths of Ocean,
This thirst-quenching dream may save me,
Or Kill me, faster. Is this the Day I Die??

I open my eyes, to see the dull walls of my room
The Nude poster on the wall makes me Laugh,
I get up with the help of my walking-Sticks,
I Fall Down, hit my head to the metal chair,
I usually use to move around. I am Hurt.
There is blood. Is this the Day I Die??

In Transition

Fading shades of grey and white

The dim, but ever so glowing dawning light.

Today is now history, make way for a new day

Opportunities are infinite, but still here I lay,

In the midst of broken dreams and waking imagination

Let me be, for a bit more. I am still in transition.

I Miss You.

Strangled in the crossfires of life
retrospecting the sobs; the laughs,
begging the sun to come back to life
hating the moon for its beauty.
the silence behind this music
the numb walls all around me
made me realize,
I miss you.

The serenity of your soul,
The beauty of your face,
The sound of your heartbeat,
The music of your voice,
The perfection of your imperfections,
The rememberings of Us,
made me realize,
I miss you.

I miss the smile
I miss thoese tears
I miss the frown
I miss the Life
I miss you.

Why do i suffer?
you are the one who left
you chose to give up
you died, i still breathe
My heart beats
but it still beats for you
I still miss you.

Daddy Bulb on the death bed…..

After 4732 hours of giving light to this family, after witnessing deaths of two of my own children by the hands of these toddlers, tomorrow when the third generation of this family switches me on I will fuse, I will die. But son remember we are not like those neon lights or the CFLs and what not, you got a family name to uphold, we come from a very respected family of bulbs, you are a direct descendent of the bulb the Almighty made and after this night you will be the last one on this planet.

Son it is not easy to be a good bulb, they will turn you on and leave for two months on vacation and son, I will tell you this, you will get hot as hell but you should not give up, I survived three and a half months, your granddad was old he blasted right in front of me, back then you were just a torchlight, ah those days, torchlight days are the best. But son now you are in lamp with greater voltage comes greater responsibility, don’t you forget that.

One day you will get on wall like me and your mother, son, remember never fit in a weak holder, those weak things give up and they take you down with them and no bulb can survive that fall.

Darling don’t you cry, I will wait for you up there in the rooms of heaven. I will save a plug for you up there right beside me.

So let us eat. Son from today I want you to say grace…

Son: Dear almighty Edison thank you for the fuse, the strength to survive the heat, the voltage and this family…….Edis.

Everyone: Edis.