Identity

Will forging it find it

Will finding it forge it

Will describing it bind it

Will binding it describe it

Will naming yours frame it

Will naming mine contain it

Will history texts proclaim it

Will politics betray it

Will prose and verse explore it

Will no one ever probe it

Will my death absolve it

Will all your deaths confirm it

Will sticks and stones then hurt it

Or only words torment it

Who am I that can stand to wonder who I am?

Take a Breath

Take a breath and know with you

A billion breaths are taken

Think a thought and know right then

A billion words are spoken

Say a word and know the while

Countless ears are listening

Live a moment knowing that

A billion lives are living

Stories of Shifting Sand

Written for a Poem a Pic Contest in which it won 2^nd Place. 

Here's the video prompt that had been provided to us:

‘You’ve got a friend’ By Ilana Yahav (A sand artist who creates a series of images by shifting sand around with her fingers on a glass surface)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIOsIbqpR5s

Stories of Shifting Sand

To paint a picture in the sand

Nor halt the waves’ rampage

To live this transcendental life

As if nothing could change

Eternity that our minds compass

Fragility that it deals in

Who’s playing with the Sands of Time

Trifling with our existence?

At one moment the Sun bursts out

Whose hand just drew it’s rays?

The next moment the clouds pour forth

Nor shelter come when we pray

Success does dog our every step

Until we find the pit

They say one should not laugh too hard

Lest tears besiege is next

Peace marches now go hand in hand

With riots in the next state

We wait in terror to mark God’s land

While Science colonizes Space

In sleep as in the midst of dreams

Whose eyes are watching ours?

Try trap this impudent soul

Who likes to thus play God

Who’s playing with the Sands of Time

The Sands of our existence?

Let’s catch this player in the act

Demand an explanation

               ***

But he just turns and smiles and says

The fault lies not in me

I sweep the floor, by candlelight

Nor paint the sand that breathes

The sand that breathes be you my love

Here today, gone tomorrow

Yet worlds will still keep going round

Moulding new joys and sorrows

Close your eyes and now envision

Close blackness all around

No sight not smell nor feel nor touch

No space nor even sound

And this be no strange fantasy

But what awaits each one

The tree from which your life fruit falls

Will continue thriving on

Yet eyes still open, fruits still bloom

Sand cannot be rid of

Another time you’d open your eyes

With your loved one looking on

                

                   ***

That moment if be worth the wait

The shift in time and changing fate

The moment that no sand can touch

Nor erring hand or paint brush hurt

That moment and such moments to come

Define your life and death confront

And even the shift in fickle sand

Would matter not if you once held my hand.

The Game of Chess

This is a poem I had written a long while back...I was going through some of my stuff when I found it again. I spruced it up a bit and edited some parts. So here's the only piece of halfway decent poetry I ever wrote :)  Comments welcome!



THE GAME OF CHESS

Twilight in the garden
All quiet in the house
The child is in the cradle
The mother sleeps without

The father’s in the army
He has gone to fight the war
Bring glory to his country
Will he see the coming hour?

The shadows in the nursery
Lengthen with coming night
A chess set in the corner
Gleams quietly with a light

The Ebony and the Ivory
They creak and wake and groan
The chessmen tall and noble
Or short in humble tone

All twist and turn and wake
To battle once again
Upon the checked battlefield
As yet without a stain

It had been there for years and years
And many a battle won
Some by Black and some by White
And then to start anon

This evening too they hoped to win
Each side getting in line
And face each other with brave hearts
And the will to triumph alive

So the battle ground was set
And so the battle lines had met
There they all stood brave and true
How many will remain?

The White as self proclaimed masters
Moved their soldiers first
And a pawn was sent to show
That the White have played their turn

The Black seeing the approaching White
Sent their own soldiers through
And a pawn was sent up front
To stem the coming foe

The names of pawns are not to be noted
They are too small and frail
They are on foot, the weakest links
The easiest to replace

Say nothing of their wives at home
Their children crying out their name
“Papa! Papa! Please return
Why must you play this game?”

“He’ll soon be home, don’t worry child”
Mama soothes the child and says
Little knowing he is out to die
The leaders to be safe

Don’t worry children, and don’t cry
This is but a game
Which will be played many times over
On yet another day

The same men will rise once more
To fall once again
The same story will be retold
In many different ways

For it’s not, you see, like real life
Where if once gone is gone
And for each new game we have to find
New deaths to depend on

For the game of chess, you see
Is but a crude imitation
The real battle still goes on
In the hearts of each generation

This battle like all battles
Is among different kinds
Who though same of heart and mind
All strive to kill their kind

For some excuse as colour
Caste, creed, religion
With god as their creator
They slay all god’s children

The same you see is in this game
Where White is fighting Black
And so they’ll fight in imitation
While sense is what men lack

But let us continue our story
Of the brave battle won
By White or Black- Do we really care?
Oh! When will mankind learn?

MAD ABOUT DOGS!

This is something I wrote on the spur of the moment. If you can identify with it please leave a comment :)

Mad about dogs!


A cute little pug or a friendly lab, an intimidating Doberman or an adorable mongrel, dogs can just make anyone’s day. Nothing beats the affection they harbor for you. Their evident joy upon seeing you return home after a long day chases away all your tiredness and frustration. Owning a dog is complete bliss, so why doesn’t everyone in the world hurry to the nearby pet shop to get one of these delightful furry companions for themselves?
The answer is simple. It’s because they know better than to believe everything a dog adoption pamphlet says. Let me clear up all confusions on this issue. Owning a dog is nothing but WORK. Caring for a dog is even more traumatic than caring for a new born baby. At least with babies there are chances that it will grow up and cease to be a burden, but dogs are a pain their whole life. They need constant care, are the most shameless attention seekers, and consider any moment of your time not spent doing a hundred and one things for them as wasted. Their ‘potty training’ can last from months to years, and they will still adorn your house with their oh so endearing faeces every once in a while for the express purpose of keeping you on your toes. Dirtying the house’s front entrance just when you are about to entertain special guests happens to be their forte. The number of medicines they need to be fed outnumber those had by the whole family put together, and each visit to the vet is fraught with peril for anyone in the vicinity. They happen to be the most ungrateful creatures on the planet, giving you the dirtiest of looks every time you force a pill down their throats or make them take a bath- ruining your own clothes in the process. You take great pains to teach them a clever trick but when you take them around to show off to your friends they mysteriously forget all that they had learned, leaving you looking considerably sillier than before. You have to brush their coat, file their nails, groom their skin, use particular shampoos, conditioners and perfumes until your bathroom cupboard gets completely filled with your dog’s cosmetic necessities leaving you no space for your small bar of soap. The family budget is clearly defined the moment you get a dog. Half the income must be reserved for your dog’s expenses and the other half can be used for less pressing needs such as the rent and the groceries and the college fees.
Our flea-bitten, tick-ridden lords and masters need us humble servants to do all in our power to keep them happy and contented. We must scratch their ears for long hours irrespective of our aching arms. If they demand to go out for a walk we must drop all other things at hand and rush to take them. Our requirement for sleep is less important than theirs, so while we are not allowed to disturb their precious napping hours, they may come and wake us up as and when they please. Our beds, pillows and blankets are there for their express use, even if it means shoving us off the bed to use them. They must not be expected to sleep in their own separate corner. They can and will take the best couch in the living room.
Yes, owning a dog means all of these hardships and much much more. So why are we so ready to embrace a life of servitude when we decide to adopt a dog? Are all dog-owners masochists to revel in such a life? Why do my eyes well with tears at the thought of losing my dog? You see, there is one thing that atones for all of this suffering, one irrational habit we develop which makes us look upon these demons through rose tinted glasses. Because...believe it or not...We LOVE ’em!