Giving Wings To Dreams

The odyssey of life is full of unexpected turns, jerks, and bumps. As long as one is hale and hearty and earning well, everything seems wonderful. Never does a thought cross our minds that we are mortal beings; instead, we carry ourselves with an air of immortality. Then, the Almighty often chooses to hold up a mirror and remind us of our rightful place as fallible human beings. A recent visit to a distinguished hospital due to some personal urgency, which I wish to take up in another blog, prompted me to share some of my observations and insights about what I witnessed there. My first impulse was to flee from the entrance itself. There was such an overwhelming rush inside and outside the hospital that a surge of fear ran down my spine. I wondered, for a fleeting moment, whether the whole world was sick. At every stage—from obtaining a token and undergoing the required tests to finally reaching the doctor—everything seemed like a herculean task. The attendants accompanying their patien...

Fire, fire, fire, Can I dare to beg of you to be hired? Hired by someone as fragile as me, A timid soul, afraid to set herself free. I know I am too timid to dream of taming you; It is idiosyncratic, perhaps, to think this through. It is in no way wise to walk these lines, Yet your fierce companionship my spirit designs. I want you by my side to help me burn away All that is negative, all that leads astray; All the weeds in the dying, diminishing garden of my life, All the bitterness, sorrow, and silent strife. The effigy of greed, of need, and all that dares To kill fine human values and replace them with snares, Needs to be set on fire, yet I feel My weak bones lack such divine zeal. Though I aspire to rise like a phoenix from my ashes, To emerge renewed after life's cruel clashes, For that, you must become my ally, A force within that will never let me die. Fire, you who are a symbol of both death and resurrection, Of destruction, creation, and sacred transformation, You graciou...

The peace of the entire cosmos can be stolen When the winds of untamed power blow; Everything and everyone is strewn, Like dry husk from the crop is flown, When an unannounced dust storm rages. Power must not reside in the hands Of those with dark hearts, Who wear the attire of fat follies and flaws. The reckless, unbridled horses in human form, With hearts of stone, knowing nothing but to trample. To trample the meek and the downtrodden. Demons control their souls, Far from ever being pristine. The kingdom of darkness feeds their ego, Those who negate goodwill and preach malice. Heinous are their attempts To outrage all that is fine in humanity. Such men in power draw solace From the suffering and sobs of the crowd, That knows nothing but hard work and toil. The spring of such serpents’ joy Is the helpless tears of men of soil. But all these men reside blindly In a fool’s paradise; They forget that “pride always hath a fall.” The mightiest kings and emperors Could not escape the decli...

School, a temple of learning, is the most benign place, Where the Almighty resides blissfully In the innocent faces of the learners, Where dreams are woven, Where character is shaped, Where wings are bestowed with strength and skill To scale the unfathomable, unconquered skies. Where unity in diversity is preached, Where the only religion taught is equality, Where the sublimest values of charity, Peace, compassion, and empathy are taught. Where “all for one and one for all” Is the boldest principle; Where sacrifice and strife are considered worthy Only for righteousness And for the nation- the mother of all. Where neither “me” nor “mine” finds a place, Where there is no room For petty selfishness and personal goals, Where all divisive notions are shunned, And fanatics, who profess only difference, Are shown the door, Who know nothing but To sow the seeds of hatred. Where sycophants are shown the mirror, Sooner or later; For the torch of goodness May be dimmed for a while, But can never...

Hanging on the wall, a beautifully woven web in a hoop, with brightest feathers and lustrous pearls mockingly waving with the gentle touches of the breeze that makes it sway to and fro. Ah! It's a dream catcher, meant to protect from nightmares sneaking in stealthily in the middle of the night. Dangling there, it assures however stark the truth of life might be, visions will still be sugary sweet. How foolish it sounds  live your dreams, and that the visions seen with open eyes come true. Isn't it contradictory? Because while existence is often nightmarish, sound sleep embellishes your head with a precious, gem-studded crown. In slumber one can be queen or king, while in reality one is either a pauper or no better than a joker in a circus ring. What you see with open eyes around is mostly bleak and haunting, where you may beg to be heard, trying hard to make insensitive people step in your shoes. All ventures are totally futile. While the dream catcher assures, dragging you awa...

Who is she? A mother, a daughter, a sister,a wife All, but not just she. 'She' is what she yearns to be, Yet herself is what she cannot be. She wants to be on the left, But for the world, right is right and left is wrong; And if she ventures to the right, Alas, it's poignantly pointed out as wrong. Songs and verses are written in her praise, But she's not allowed to be the sole runner in this world’s race. Her destiny is designed by the rest. Sadly enough, she cannot be her own designer. Her attires or her desires, Her dreams or her whims All are controlled, because she is she, And the world is mostly about he, him, and his. Source of infinite comfort and joy, She is considered nothing but a toy. Half of the world may laugh off this verse, And say it speaks of orthodox stereotypes; But a closer look will tell that behind ninety percent of powdered faces and trendy clothes, The chic façade that hides Be it a society queen often seen at kitty parties, Dressed as per the k...

If your life is turned upside down, You should smile, not frown. If you see no light at the end of the tunnel, You must smile through the struggle. If you are lost on the curvy ways of this heartless world, You still ought to smile, though confusion is swirled. If you fall from the eyes of all, including yourself, You still have to smile, and gather the strength from within yourself. Pain or prejudice, Failure or deceit, Financial, sensory or emotional breakdown, Thorns or stones beneath your feet  Whatever life has to cater to you, You need to smile and carry through. Because in this gigantic cosmos, You are nothing but a useless, miniature clown. Your woes, stress, and sorrows are yours alone to bear; Your ailments, your heartbreaks, demand your care. Since there are no hands kind enough To hold the merciful candle, To illuminate or slay the darkness That has encircled your soul and made it fragile. Thus, the only way out for you is to smile  Smile in spite of how much your ...

Silence is serene. Silence is solace. In several ways, silence saves the savage soul. Silence is static, strong, like sky-kissing mountains circling a sleepy hill town. Silence is somber when it stems from sadness. Silence strives to sleep over sickening strategies. Silence confers the childlike sleep upon the soulful, while it steals the peace of the soulless. Silence smiles and silences all conjectures. For a few, silence is a sweet remedy; for others, silence is a malady. For some, silence is a question impossible to crack. For others, silence is the answer to every crux. For some, silence is a shield. For others, the sharpest knife, the searing scythe. Most times, aparently silence saves bonds. At times, it breaks them into forms unrecognizable. Silence wears the face of a silent sage, yet stands indisputed as  a symbol of untamed rage. Life screams. Death silences. silence is a voice in itself, raising walls too high for unwanted noise to climb. Silence is a misunderstood path...

This is a tribute to one of my dearest friends, whose son yesterday lost his battle with cancer. Words fail me, and I lack the strength even to reach out to her. May no mother ever have to bear such unbearable sorrow. The title of the verse has made me cry, Because the loss of a child is every mother’s greatest fear. A child grows stronger in his mother’s prayers Than first in her womb, and later in this world here. The first cry, first tear, first bruise, and first fall, Each hurts the mother far more than all Her child becomes her breaths,her sky,her sun, Her all reasons to live gathered in one. Even in her sleep, her lips softly pray For her dear ones night and day. All her smiles, all her tears, All her strengths, all her weaknesses and struggles Stem from and exist for her little one. A sneeze, a cough, a trembling tone of her child, Sends through her heart a chill unknown. The care she renders to her tender flowers Outshines the most dexterous gardeners. Newborn, infant, grown, o...