THE ROAD NOT TAKEN…
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
Took the one less traveled by,
and that Has made all the difference.”
Robert Frost was mighty right, and if I may say so, a genius in propounding such an intricate and profound concept in terribly simple words. A cross-road is something that all of us face in our life. At some point or the other. Decision-making has never been Man’s hobby and has brought agony, penitence, misery and, at times, joy and content to man. We all say that ‘one simple decision can change our lives’. Whether the aforesaid statement is true or false is left to personal discretion, I suppose. I, personally, feel that the ‘change in our lives’ due to any decision was meant to be. It couldn’t have been any other way- better or worse.
Real life experience has taught me to believe in defying the odds and finding solace in such extremity. And no, it is not rebellion. It is simply an attempt to find faith in the most unknown.
After finishing school, we all seem to be stuck in a ‘trance’ition (pun intended) stage, where one has to take a decision with regard to one’s career. After my 12th class, I had three options with me- National Institute of Fashion Technology, NALSAR, Hyderabad for pursuing Legal Studies, or a little known, yet amazing, M.A. course at IIT-Madras. Three completely different streams- three diverse careers! To choose either one, and give up the others seemed like a morbid proposition- but this HAD to be done.
After a lot of discussion and comparison, it was decided that my true interests lay in the M.A. course at IIT-M, which by the way, is a brainchild of a genius and I could not help falling in love with it.
However, now came the hard part. Society can be a cruel place to live in, at times like this. With conflicting viewpoints from a zillion people, taking a decision and sticking to it becomes a Herculean task! With social pressures thrusting ‘law’, the lucrative profession, towards me, it took my family and me a great deal of inner strength to put our foot down and stuck by the decision already made. And I think I did just fine.
India is no longer a nation that blindly follows convention. Indians are slowly, but surely, realizing the value of pursuing their true interests and leading truly happy lives, that are not governed by the sole intention of making money. Right from a home-maker to a hotshot business tycoon- every person has a value of his own, and societal status and recognition are definitely NOT a measure of this value.
To all my confused friends out there- please listen to your heart. Do whatever it prompts you to do! Trying to build a career without a base of concrete passion is like building a palace on water- it will sink! Follow your dreams, and success (in its true sense) shall follow!
P.S.- And if ever, people hound you for making the so-called ‘wrong’ choice, turn around, and in a classic Rhett Butler style, say- Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!
Friday, June 19, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
The Parasite
Day and day out you call me,
Refuse to take the cue and leave!
Poisoning the secrets of my mind,
You horrify me, you disgust me.
You make me smile; it is hateful!You make me cry, and capture my heart,
You are the nightmare that persists,
You are the dream that never comes true.
In your captivity, I exist…painfully,
But if you let me go, I shall die,
You are a body of paradoxes,
A bitter-sweet irony…precious!
I look at myself, and I see you,
Even then, we are so different!
Each in a world of its own…
How can a consensus ever be met?
Yet, you lurk in my blood,
Circulating your displeasure so very oft,
I wish I could excoriate myself,
And let you go…..I cannot!
I am ‘me’, and you are ‘myself’,
I look at myself, and I see you,
Even then, we are so different,
Even then, we are so different…
Refuse to take the cue and leave!
Poisoning the secrets of my mind,
You horrify me, you disgust me.
You make me smile; it is hateful!You make me cry, and capture my heart,
You are the nightmare that persists,
You are the dream that never comes true.
In your captivity, I exist…painfully,
But if you let me go, I shall die,
You are a body of paradoxes,
A bitter-sweet irony…precious!
I look at myself, and I see you,
Even then, we are so different!
Each in a world of its own…
How can a consensus ever be met?
Yet, you lurk in my blood,
Circulating your displeasure so very oft,
I wish I could excoriate myself,
And let you go…..I cannot!
I am ‘me’, and you are ‘myself’,
I look at myself, and I see you,
Even then, we are so different,
Even then, we are so different…
Saturday, June 6, 2009
UNDERNEATH
Underneath the façade of vile courage,
Lies a lurking human fear.
Underneath the sanguineous carnage,
Blooms concern and love so dear.
Underneath the threat of death
Is born, the hope and light of life.
Underneath the lullaby of every breath,
Lurks a life, hoping to survive.
Underneath the clamorous violence
Sighs a hapless, vanquished peace.
Underneath the deathly, eerie silence
Flourishes a faint prayer with ease.
Underneath the shroud of pretence,
Smirks an austere reality.
Underneath the excuse of coincidence
Gloats our insurmountable destiny.
Underneath the shadow of every man,
Underneath his very countenance,
Rises boldly an embedded conscience, wan
Holding within it God and His very essence.
Lies a lurking human fear.
Underneath the sanguineous carnage,
Blooms concern and love so dear.
Underneath the threat of death
Is born, the hope and light of life.
Underneath the lullaby of every breath,
Lurks a life, hoping to survive.
Underneath the clamorous violence
Sighs a hapless, vanquished peace.
Underneath the deathly, eerie silence
Flourishes a faint prayer with ease.
Underneath the shroud of pretence,
Smirks an austere reality.
Underneath the excuse of coincidence
Gloats our insurmountable destiny.
Underneath the shadow of every man,
Underneath his very countenance,
Rises boldly an embedded conscience, wan
Holding within it God and His very essence.
THE WONDER WORLD
A world where peace was not so expensive,
A world where truth was not so pensive.
A world where blood was more viscous,
A world, where soil was not so acarpous.
A world where beauty was highly abundant.
A world where affluence was our ascendant.
A world devoid of even a single tear gland.
A world where every detail was perfectly planned.
A world in which stalked no rejection,
A world submerged in sickening affection,
A world where the Sun shone all day,
Who would want such a world, anyway?.....
A world where truth was not so pensive.
A world where blood was more viscous,
A world, where soil was not so acarpous.
A world where beauty was highly abundant.
A world where affluence was our ascendant.
A world devoid of even a single tear gland.
A world where every detail was perfectly planned.
A world in which stalked no rejection,
A world submerged in sickening affection,
A world where the Sun shone all day,
Who would want such a world, anyway?.....
‘REFLECTIONS’
As I look into the mirror,
Broken-its body and my soul,
The image that looks back at me is
That of a stranger. The gaping hole
In my narrow layer of security widens
And in it my world is devoured.
‘Failure’- the stranger calls himself.
A shiver runs down my burdened spine.
I sigh. The reflection seems to make
An inconspicuous movement. What a
Congruence I see in it and myself.
Miraculous- both, its existence and mine.
The mirror is mercilessly straightforward.
Never a sycophant ; truthful eternally.
My blemishes never shadowed or hidden,
Never is the glided me neglected…
The mirror is broken- any mild dereliction is forgiven.
Intolerably inarticulate…Yet so verbose….
Broken-its body and my soul,
The image that looks back at me is
That of a stranger. The gaping hole
In my narrow layer of security widens
And in it my world is devoured.
‘Failure’- the stranger calls himself.
A shiver runs down my burdened spine.
I sigh. The reflection seems to make
An inconspicuous movement. What a
Congruence I see in it and myself.
Miraculous- both, its existence and mine.
The mirror is mercilessly straightforward.
Never a sycophant ; truthful eternally.
My blemishes never shadowed or hidden,
Never is the glided me neglected…
The mirror is broken- any mild dereliction is forgiven.
Intolerably inarticulate…Yet so verbose….
MY HERO
I stand in disbelief by the window
Of my emptied soul; my desolate heart.
Cataclysmic currents of my emotions flow,
As I watch you depart, shredding ‘us’ apart.
Mine, you were and will be, eternally.
Say whatever you want to-you may.
Engulfed by shock, overtaken by melancholy,
Nothing you say is going to make it okay.
An ocean of tears- a tribute to your memory.
A thousand sleepless nights; many more to come.
What is ‘happiness’? How do you make merry?
Not a smile to recall, not a song to hum.
Staunch darkness surrounds me ruthlessly,
As I let out whatever I had to say.
A spark has lit up the darkness, mercifully.
I have just found out that, you, my hero, were gay.
NOTE: The poem was written impulsively and from another person’s point of view and not my own…So dad, you can relax and start breathing again! ;-)
And I am not prejudiced against any particular sort of people. Like I said earlier, the poem was impulsive and not intended to hurt any sentiments.
Of my emptied soul; my desolate heart.
Cataclysmic currents of my emotions flow,
As I watch you depart, shredding ‘us’ apart.
Mine, you were and will be, eternally.
Say whatever you want to-you may.
Engulfed by shock, overtaken by melancholy,
Nothing you say is going to make it okay.
An ocean of tears- a tribute to your memory.
A thousand sleepless nights; many more to come.
What is ‘happiness’? How do you make merry?
Not a smile to recall, not a song to hum.
Staunch darkness surrounds me ruthlessly,
As I let out whatever I had to say.
A spark has lit up the darkness, mercifully.
I have just found out that, you, my hero, were gay.
NOTE: The poem was written impulsively and from another person’s point of view and not my own…So dad, you can relax and start breathing again! ;-)
And I am not prejudiced against any particular sort of people. Like I said earlier, the poem was impulsive and not intended to hurt any sentiments.
DIFFERENT…..INDIFFERENT.
My heart, they say, is made of steel,
It used to have a certain luster.
I have lost the sheer inclination to feel
Mirth or depondence. I beg to differ,
With what you may term as ‘cynical’,
But cynical is just not me.
It is not a prophylactic dismissal,
Though it may surely seem to be.
I am simple indifferent to emotion, to people,
To opinions that they have of me.
Though sometimes, my ego trips, and I topple
And my indifference breaks free….
It used to have a certain luster.
I have lost the sheer inclination to feel
Mirth or depondence. I beg to differ,
With what you may term as ‘cynical’,
But cynical is just not me.
It is not a prophylactic dismissal,
Though it may surely seem to be.
I am simple indifferent to emotion, to people,
To opinions that they have of me.
Though sometimes, my ego trips, and I topple
And my indifference breaks free….
EXPECTATIONS….
Several eyes look upon me today,
Some with reverence, some with envy,
Some with apathy and others with expectation.
The patronizing glare of expectation burns
A hole in my heart. I fear that I may lose
In this egotistical battle. I lose despite survival.
Either win- A loss for me. To satisfy this expectation,
I work. Work without an aim of my own…
Work on others’ discretion…No rhyme or reason..
My victory brings along a sense of triumph
For everyone around me-not within myself.
The ghost of my desire haunts me day in, day out.
The ghost has found it’s comfort in my heart.
It thrives in the atrium of my heart.
My heart is it’s womb and it’s grave.
Some with reverence, some with envy,
Some with apathy and others with expectation.
The patronizing glare of expectation burns
A hole in my heart. I fear that I may lose
In this egotistical battle. I lose despite survival.
Either win- A loss for me. To satisfy this expectation,
I work. Work without an aim of my own…
Work on others’ discretion…No rhyme or reason..
My victory brings along a sense of triumph
For everyone around me-not within myself.
The ghost of my desire haunts me day in, day out.
The ghost has found it’s comfort in my heart.
It thrives in the atrium of my heart.
My heart is it’s womb and it’s grave.
FIERY LOVE
The dusk that has dawned upon this day,
Has brought with itself the acme of beauty.
The summit, it is truly- the imposing sky.
The watery hues of an azure yonder,
Embellished with the gilded rays of the Sun.
A fluffy, innocuous dragon shaped cloud
That dominates the horizon. Enamoured by
The splendor of the ball of radiance, spreads
His arms our for a hug. A caress of love, readily given.
The cloud and the sun- enveloped in a hug…
So much in love!
The sun glows in the warmth of love,
The cloud resembles a majestic Lord.
The radiance of the Sun peeping shyly,
Through the translucent cloud.
On a closer look, writhing…seeking refuge
In suffocating love. Thwarting in the cloud’s embrace.
So tight. So tyrannical.
‘The whimsical cloud has to be vanquished!’,
So, the sun decides! Slowly, yet forcefully,
Tries to pull away…….TRIUMPH!
Victorious, yet dignified- My fiery Idol….
Has brought with itself the acme of beauty.
The summit, it is truly- the imposing sky.
The watery hues of an azure yonder,
Embellished with the gilded rays of the Sun.
A fluffy, innocuous dragon shaped cloud
That dominates the horizon. Enamoured by
The splendor of the ball of radiance, spreads
His arms our for a hug. A caress of love, readily given.
The cloud and the sun- enveloped in a hug…
So much in love!
The sun glows in the warmth of love,
The cloud resembles a majestic Lord.
The radiance of the Sun peeping shyly,
Through the translucent cloud.
On a closer look, writhing…seeking refuge
In suffocating love. Thwarting in the cloud’s embrace.
So tight. So tyrannical.
‘The whimsical cloud has to be vanquished!’,
So, the sun decides! Slowly, yet forcefully,
Tries to pull away…….TRIUMPH!
Victorious, yet dignified- My fiery Idol….
The Cry of Injustice
The end of time has sadly begun,
My life buried under the debris of his death.
A part of me has suddenly been snatched away.
These eternally outstretched hands await
A response. I receive none. I expected none.
As sense dawns upon me, it rarely does, I
Begin to see truth in its abundant light.
Colours seem to fade away, quite literally.
Red, Blue, whatever else- A far away fantasy.
An old lady, draped in white, takes my hand
With an odd motley of pain and sympathy.
The goosebumps on my hand give away my terror.
My new acquaintance journeys through her past…
Darkness is spilt with a queer generosity
On her recollections. Nostalgia tantamount to doom.
Tears traverse down their familiar path on her face.
We both blink back tears, lost in our morbidity.
In a little while, the vermilion that adorns my forehead,
Shall be smudged away…ruthlessly shown the door.
The hue shall remain, however, as tainted skin…
The crimson decorations on my dainty wrists shall be broken.
The shards of glass that scatter shall wound me forever…
The blood that flows can never be replenished…
Neither can my tears…
In darkness, I shall live. In darkness, I shall die.
In darkness, I shall persist, In darkness, burnt alive…
My life buried under the debris of his death.
A part of me has suddenly been snatched away.
These eternally outstretched hands await
A response. I receive none. I expected none.
As sense dawns upon me, it rarely does, I
Begin to see truth in its abundant light.
Colours seem to fade away, quite literally.
Red, Blue, whatever else- A far away fantasy.
An old lady, draped in white, takes my hand
With an odd motley of pain and sympathy.
The goosebumps on my hand give away my terror.
My new acquaintance journeys through her past…
Darkness is spilt with a queer generosity
On her recollections. Nostalgia tantamount to doom.
Tears traverse down their familiar path on her face.
We both blink back tears, lost in our morbidity.
In a little while, the vermilion that adorns my forehead,
Shall be smudged away…ruthlessly shown the door.
The hue shall remain, however, as tainted skin…
The crimson decorations on my dainty wrists shall be broken.
The shards of glass that scatter shall wound me forever…
The blood that flows can never be replenished…
Neither can my tears…
In darkness, I shall live. In darkness, I shall die.
In darkness, I shall persist, In darkness, burnt alive…
METAMORPHOSIS
In this hustle bustle of our noisy lives,
Frequent metamorphosis is not a rarity.
Companionships turn into phone numbers,
Living faces captured as forgotten thumbnails,
Love blossoming from a stream of SMSes,
And ending on a sudden, stray phonecall…
Friendships born in the ‘web’ of worldly insecurity…
Begin with a bang, end with a glum thud.
But noone listens, noone cares…
Who has the time, afterall?
Who has the inclination to bring in THE change?
A change comprising warmth to replenish its dearth?
A change that can sharpen the sword of concern ,
That can combat apathy.A change defining relationships,
Signifying love….defying shrewd, cold practicality.
We need a change..A breath of fresh air!
But fresh air is a scarcity in this world…
This world, where the spirit of humans is rotting…
Frequent metamorphosis is not a rarity.
Companionships turn into phone numbers,
Living faces captured as forgotten thumbnails,
Love blossoming from a stream of SMSes,
And ending on a sudden, stray phonecall…
Friendships born in the ‘web’ of worldly insecurity…
Begin with a bang, end with a glum thud.
But noone listens, noone cares…
Who has the time, afterall?
Who has the inclination to bring in THE change?
A change comprising warmth to replenish its dearth?
A change that can sharpen the sword of concern ,
That can combat apathy.A change defining relationships,
Signifying love….defying shrewd, cold practicality.
We need a change..A breath of fresh air!
But fresh air is a scarcity in this world…
This world, where the spirit of humans is rotting…
A Poetic Struggle
A Poetic Struggle
What exactly must I write now?
A tribute to God? An ode to nature?
What true love means? Or how
The flower of the present booms into the future?
The words in my heart refuse to
Materialize, as my mind strangles
The new born ideas, unwilling to
Accept change. The unborn chronicle
Of a pregnant idea, embarking
A journey amidst the constant cackle
That surrounds me, stunting
The growth of a poetic inspiration.
And there begins my poetic lamentation….
What exactly must I write now?
A tribute to God? An ode to nature?
What true love means? Or how
The flower of the present booms into the future?
The words in my heart refuse to
Materialize, as my mind strangles
The new born ideas, unwilling to
Accept change. The unborn chronicle
Of a pregnant idea, embarking
A journey amidst the constant cackle
That surrounds me, stunting
The growth of a poetic inspiration.
And there begins my poetic lamentation….
UNDER ARREST
“UNDER ARREST”
Like a fragile drop of water,
Upon a wrinkled leaf.
Threatening to fall off and scatter
Into countless teardrops of grief.
Like a brittle, pale thread,
Wanting to snap- uncertain and tense.
Awaiting to slaughter, then bury the dead,
Upon my heart, an irrecoverable expense.
Like a snowflake descending from the clouds,
Crystal clear, delicate, beautiful and real.
Unaware, ignorant of an apathetic crowd,
Its frailty is what I most fear.
Like an unheeded crevice on the wall,
Promising to grow conspicuous with age.
Soon my poor faith shall fall,
Into a catacomb, into a cage.
Like the obscure traces of humanity,
In this world where peace is despised.
Crowned with the ‘glory’ of cruelty,
Love and benevolence- dear and prized.
O trust! You are not to be trusted,
For I have been betrayed many a time,
Amidst the tears that I have shed,
I have learnt that to trust is a crime…
Like a fragile drop of water,
Upon a wrinkled leaf.
Threatening to fall off and scatter
Into countless teardrops of grief.
Like a brittle, pale thread,
Wanting to snap- uncertain and tense.
Awaiting to slaughter, then bury the dead,
Upon my heart, an irrecoverable expense.
Like a snowflake descending from the clouds,
Crystal clear, delicate, beautiful and real.
Unaware, ignorant of an apathetic crowd,
Its frailty is what I most fear.
Like an unheeded crevice on the wall,
Promising to grow conspicuous with age.
Soon my poor faith shall fall,
Into a catacomb, into a cage.
Like the obscure traces of humanity,
In this world where peace is despised.
Crowned with the ‘glory’ of cruelty,
Love and benevolence- dear and prized.
O trust! You are not to be trusted,
For I have been betrayed many a time,
Amidst the tears that I have shed,
I have learnt that to trust is a crime…
An Inexplicable Space
An Inexplicable Space
There is a void that exists in her,
Among the dense mysteries of life,
A silent killer of gaiety,
The skeptic in a crowd of believers.
The void does not grow,
Does not recede…Only perpetrates.
No arrow of cruelty can pierce it,
For it is already torn…it is void!
This void has become a part of her now,
Has found a place in her proud bosom,
The exact place, where earlier,
Her shy, broken heart had sought refuge.
The void grew out of a tiny hole-
A tiny aperture in that resilient heart,
The void fed on fear and insecurity,
And day by day, it grew in intensity.
The void feared only one enemy- love.
The girl had none…vulnerable, she was.
So very vulnerable.
And so, she surrendered to the vacuity,
Eager to adapt and ‘toughen up’,
Little did she know that it was a ploy,
Where either win would be a loss.
Trapped she was, and has been ever since,
At a loss of words, emotions or feeling,
Unable to judge the ‘right’ and ‘wrong’,
And not caring for either, either.
Today, she is an empty shell,
Waiting for the treasures of happiness
To be entrusted to her lonely heart.
She waits…and waits…
Clutching the hand of the silent void,
That never left her side,
She refused to believe its evil intentions,
She refused to see truth through the clear glass of life…
There is a void that exists in her,
Among the dense mysteries of life,
A silent killer of gaiety,
The skeptic in a crowd of believers.
The void does not grow,
Does not recede…Only perpetrates.
No arrow of cruelty can pierce it,
For it is already torn…it is void!
This void has become a part of her now,
Has found a place in her proud bosom,
The exact place, where earlier,
Her shy, broken heart had sought refuge.
The void grew out of a tiny hole-
A tiny aperture in that resilient heart,
The void fed on fear and insecurity,
And day by day, it grew in intensity.
The void feared only one enemy- love.
The girl had none…vulnerable, she was.
So very vulnerable.
And so, she surrendered to the vacuity,
Eager to adapt and ‘toughen up’,
Little did she know that it was a ploy,
Where either win would be a loss.
Trapped she was, and has been ever since,
At a loss of words, emotions or feeling,
Unable to judge the ‘right’ and ‘wrong’,
And not caring for either, either.
Today, she is an empty shell,
Waiting for the treasures of happiness
To be entrusted to her lonely heart.
She waits…and waits…
Clutching the hand of the silent void,
That never left her side,
She refused to believe its evil intentions,
She refused to see truth through the clear glass of life…
Imagination...
IMAGINATION
You are a faint light that I follow when I walk through dark tunnels,
You are the flicker of a miracle that I always seem to see,
You are the illogical answer that persists to all my questions.
I trust you more than my kith and kin,
I love you more than my blood and skin,
You make me proud when you let me down,
And when you live it up, I smile….
Without you, I would be lost,
I would be right and yet, be wrong.
You run in my blood, you thrive in my mind,
You lead me to places-unknown, and unseen.
You ricochet within my heart and throb with tempting delight.
You wake me up, and lull me to sleep,
You make me dream what I would never dare.
Yet, you live within…refuse to show up in broad daylight,
You refuse to walk the town with me, me flaunting you…
Materialize, O dear! Materialize!For, how else to the world, can I prove you worthy?
In the deep shackles of my mind you lay-quiet and wild…at once!
You are a miracle, O dear…show yourself!
Free as a bird…fly to the stars!Swift as the wind…run for your life!
Leap to your glory, my dear friend…
Worry not, for you are no slave of mankind…
You are a faint light that I follow when I walk through dark tunnels,
You are the flicker of a miracle that I always seem to see,
You are the illogical answer that persists to all my questions.
I trust you more than my kith and kin,
I love you more than my blood and skin,
You make me proud when you let me down,
And when you live it up, I smile….
Without you, I would be lost,
I would be right and yet, be wrong.
You run in my blood, you thrive in my mind,
You lead me to places-unknown, and unseen.
You ricochet within my heart and throb with tempting delight.
You wake me up, and lull me to sleep,
You make me dream what I would never dare.
Yet, you live within…refuse to show up in broad daylight,
You refuse to walk the town with me, me flaunting you…
Materialize, O dear! Materialize!For, how else to the world, can I prove you worthy?
In the deep shackles of my mind you lay-quiet and wild…at once!
You are a miracle, O dear…show yourself!
Free as a bird…fly to the stars!Swift as the wind…run for your life!
Leap to your glory, my dear friend…
Worry not, for you are no slave of mankind…
The True Martyr...
The True Martyr…
The look in her soulful eyes,
Is that of despondence?
Or is it a glimmer of pride,
That casts a sunny shadow across her brow?
An unfathomable regret in her heart,
Or is it the triumph of a successful warrior?
An irony of an enormous scale lurks over her,
Each emotion seems to strive for attention.
An ode to the lost hope-
A stream of tears down her wary cheek,
She seems woebegone for a reason,
And oddly seems most consoled by the same….
The look in her soulful eyes,
Is that of despondence?
Or is it a glimmer of pride,
That casts a sunny shadow across her brow?
An unfathomable regret in her heart,
Or is it the triumph of a successful warrior?
An irony of an enormous scale lurks over her,
Each emotion seems to strive for attention.
An ode to the lost hope-
A stream of tears down her wary cheek,
She seems woebegone for a reason,
And oddly seems most consoled by the same….
Rainbow Of the Night
The Rainbow of the Night
It came one night, in my dream,
And I woke up with a scare!
How could it be possible, I wondered?
Ever seen a phenomenon so rare?
Perhaps the merriment of life,
Has reflected in the night sky?
Or maybe, the factions of war and strife,
Have bid us all a good-bye?
Such bold colours adorn the yonder,
And my heart is filled with so much mirth!
Isn’t thy heart overcome with wonder?
Witnessing Nature’s joyful rebirth?
True, it is! Not a mere illusion!
Castles are being built on solid ground,
My faith cannot withstand derision,
It must be pampered, must be crowned!
Oh No! Why are the colours fading away?
Why does the sheen seem to disappear?
Let there be some mercy, I pray!
Ephemeral angel….Reappear! Reappear!
Stay with me, O rainbow! Stay!
Do not disappear into the night!
You are the proof of a world astray,
Where right is wrong and wrong is right.
It came one night, in my dream,
And I woke up with a scare!
How could it be possible, I wondered?
Ever seen a phenomenon so rare?
Perhaps the merriment of life,
Has reflected in the night sky?
Or maybe, the factions of war and strife,
Have bid us all a good-bye?
Such bold colours adorn the yonder,
And my heart is filled with so much mirth!
Isn’t thy heart overcome with wonder?
Witnessing Nature’s joyful rebirth?
True, it is! Not a mere illusion!
Castles are being built on solid ground,
My faith cannot withstand derision,
It must be pampered, must be crowned!
Oh No! Why are the colours fading away?
Why does the sheen seem to disappear?
Let there be some mercy, I pray!
Ephemeral angel….Reappear! Reappear!
Stay with me, O rainbow! Stay!
Do not disappear into the night!
You are the proof of a world astray,
Where right is wrong and wrong is right.
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