Just a spark | Sweet lie or a bitter truth, Poem

Most of us evaluate the book by its cover. We have this disability or should I call it lethargy that we do not read a person page by page, and wonder what might be on the torn ones. Rather we take a short cut, we see the content that is presented to us and not the intent which carries actual value. This is how we buy products, choose dates and hire resources for companies. Presentation! No one truly cares what is inside. And certainly no one is going to take the pain to uncover you layer by layer. So even if you are rotten inside, if your outside is ripe and shiny you will end up in that basket. Yes you will be paid for. I might be perplexing you. The poem might seem highly unrelated to what I just said. So, just enjoy what follows independently.

The love of my little life
Asks me with a smile
Do you love me or not
With all your pretty heart

I'm thinking, I'm calculating
And she doesn't like waiting
Annoyed she walks away
I don't know what to say

Only 10% is the working lot
I love her with all that I have got
The night is long and dark
I am just a spark

The night is long and dark
I am just a spark

You know what. You might be paid for. You might end up in that basket but in order to be consumed, in order to meet your life goal, in order to be accepted you will have to opened up, cut through and torn apart. You will have to be uncovered. You will have to be vulnerable. This realization will happen for sure. When? You decide. It is like a car going downhill. If you do not guide it yourself, you might end up reaching the bottom lot quicker than you might like.

You become vulnerable and you open yourself to be read. But you know what, people are so lazy these days they don't even read open books. So it eventually boils down to it. You either tell them what is right for them or what they wish to hear. Usually, these two do not coincide. The funny thing is people would hate you for telling them what is right for them. So be very sure of what you want, peace of mind or just this pleasant moment. Once you decide it your subconscious backs it big time. Your decisions would become reflexes and you won't need to think ever.

Worth dying? | Poem written atop Kunti Betta

The thin line between life and death
Admires you as you gasp for breath

It asks ever so innocently
What do you desire so ardently?

That you annihilate your last slice of fear,
In this hysteria of uncertainty, your only savior

Skin looks too easy to scrape
Warm blood won’t be too bad to taste

Those fragile bones I might spare
If you tell me what brings you here

The stars over my head
The stars under my feet

Unsure if worth dying for
Sure not worth living without

I don't remember the exact time. It might have been 1 in the night at the base of the hill named Kunti Betta in Pandavapura. It was after 10 months that my palms felt the texture of a rock. It was different this time, very different. Last time I was climbing like a monkey. The feet were solid. The grip was firm. Breathing was smooth. All had changed. Every time my foot landed a little harder on a rock, I could feel a tremor through the leg. Hands had been reduced to a set of fingers. I could barely grip anything. I breathed heavier in first 20 steps than I did in entire ascend the instance before.

A person who would lead was one being looked after. It seemed I was having my glimpse of old age. A stone would slip here and there, and the tremor would travel deeper than just the leg. I saw downhill a couple of times and could visualize how easy and plausible it was to slip and just keep slipping and skidding. It didn't instill fear. It simply created a 3-D visual complete with audio effects in my head. Good imagination hurts. I kept going, sometimes against my will, sometimes with it. Body learns from defeat, heart doesn't. 

We reached the top. Everybody just lied down.  The last memory I had of lying on a rock was resting my broken spine on one like a cushion, waiting. I myself felt I was over thinking. That moment had gone but my mind was just correlating everything. I just admired the stars over my head and the lights underneath. The nerves calmed down. I breathed in the cold breeze and closed my eyes for a while. I felt peace, which I don't feel on a 6 inch thick mattress. 

Almost everybody had slept. It was at least 2 hours to sunrise. I pulled out notepad, pen and torch out of my bag. At an elevation of 2882m, I began to write. The only instance about which I can say I wrote a poem when high, like truly high. I tried to answer the question, which I knew would be asked again if I reach the ground. I got up and sat near the bonfire. On top of a hill, in the light of bonfire, this poem was written with a half keloided hand, which makes it pretty badass. 

Kunti Betta picture from the base
Kunti Betta, Pandavapura (130 km from Bangalore)

Putting this picture, just to tell that I reached ground on my own two feet. It was fun.

Thanks Abhay, Kurju, Mojo, Akshit for the laughter, support and uncle chips, in short for being brilliant comrades. Thanks Saumya and Nivedita, for making the tempo traveler time melodious, and sorry for stone age songs.

I would like to conclude it with enlightening words of Shri Shri Saurabh Kurjekar,
"Launde, (pause) sher hote hain"

Zindagi beet rahi hai | Inspirational Hindi Poem

GvSparx - Madhugiri Hills Evening Silhouette

We always have a choice at our hands, but often we are disillusioned by the sense of security, tried & tested stamp and our belief in others more than our own instinct. You can blame your lack of happiness on anyone but deep inside you know it was you who had to make a decision and you made one. Once you make it, you have to own it.

Script : Roman       देवनागिरी

Zindgi beet rahi hai,
Kisi haseen chehre ko lubhaane me
Kisi sabha me jagah banaane me
Kisi apne se peechha chudaane me

Zindagi beet rahi hai
Chaahat ki chaahato ko poora karne me
Samaaj ke maandand par khara utarne me
Aaj ke khwab ko kal par chhodne me

Zindagi beet rahi hai
Apno ke faislo pe jeene me
Gairo ke taano se bachne me
Aaghaaz bina anjaam se darne me

Zindagi beet rahi hai
Khud ki har haar me
Kasoorwaar ki talaash me
Zimmedaario se nazar churaati
Apki, meri zindagi beet rahi hai

Aap chaahein na chahein zindagi beet rahi hai aur bahut tez raftaar se beet rahi hai. Aap ise rok nahi sakte, parantu aapke paas ise behtar banaane ka avsar avashya hai. Aap ise doosro ke ishaaro par jee sakte hain, jee tod mehnat kar wo mukaam haasil kar sakte hain jinme aapki kabhi dilchaspi hi nahi thi. Ya fir aap apne faisle swayam le sakte hain, nayi galatiyan kar sakte hain, unki zimmedaari le sakte hain, unhe sudhaar kar naye raaste ijaad kar sakte hain.

Chayan ka adhikaar aapke haath me hai.

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