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What do you wake up to everyday
what do you think when you wake up everyday
Your job, the work, the everyday humdrum of life...everything...nothing
You work in a routine like a machine
And think something and nothing...


after all life ends at death
so we pass our time till death comes to us...by which I mean the physical one...
we try to search for meanings in our lives to make our life seem meaningful
but what really are we doing?
I say I am here to learn...what and what for?
Why the crave?
Probably because then I can talk and contribute...maybe because I just want to know everything...
To what?
For what?
Because it All leads to searching for something, for someone...for a connection...but why again?
Aren't we all alone in here?
What if there isn't a search...?
What do you wake up to everyday?

Meaning-less

A constant fight with the self
The inner voices and its multiple shelves
The yes and the nos
The highs and the lows

The fights with the fears
The inner demons brainwashing my head
The control of mind over its matter
Or is it the other way around?

The constant yelling and telling
The images of people in a slide show
The thoughts revolving and reaching back to square one
Is this what we have become?

Restlessness

The unrested mind
thoughts of the divine
the sleepless nights
memories of fragmented lives

The contrasts in the weather
the cold feelings and the hot summers
the unresolved conflicts playing on my mind like a broken tune
In these summer nights like an unhealed open wound.

Untitled again!

The parts of a whole
Come together for a specific role
From the unknown to be known
from inception to creation

The similarities in being different
Being together but still being absent
The longing and the desire
the waiting in the shire

Appearing and disappearing
the games that the mind is playing
Is it visions or is it reality
Is the mind living in whimsicality?

Uncovering

The everyday turbulence
The missing of silence
The waters from gargoyles
The flow as if a few more unspoken words


The eternal transformations and transcendence
The rapturing of the skin
the flesh in its open being
The bones covering the heart
the soul its incarcerated part

The long wait

The clouds like a veil covering the moon
while I watch it as if hiding from me

Night after night it grows smaller in size
As if upset for what I said
Till it decides one fine day to not turn up at all

But hear again I say
" no nights has been as dark as the darkest night today
For my heart and my soul seems to have been taken away...

I wait the next night for her to hear my plea
And euphoria!!!
There she shines again
waiting as she always does
And so do I....

On Death

What if I were to die today
Would I have lived my last day the same way
Would I have wanted to work
Would I have wanted to have my near ones by my side
Would I have wanted my ashes in the water
Would I have wanted people shedding a tear over me
Would I have really lived and died
Would I have thought of life lived
Of experiences gathered and not
Of people befriended and not
Of feelings requited and not
Of places travelled and not
Of sorrys not asked and pardons not given...

Elysium

Running towards the unknown
the darkness and then the sudden light
blinding the eyes and the memory of the non-existent
In there lies my salvation

the water falling from the mountains
the rivers flowing towards the sea
the sun shining for them all
and setting slowly for it doesn't want to leave

Here comes the moon
with all its mystery and its happy-sad tune
the misty eyes at the marvel of nature
here I stand...

Butterflies

Lying on the ground facing the sun I sit and lounge
and a certain exuberance flickers in my heart
I open my eyes to see
A sudden fleet of butterflies
With colors as bright as a rainbow
and with all their iridescence in the sunlight
like angels on the move


and suddenly there comes one
A young and a small one with red wings flapping as if having just transformed
Sitting on my shoulders
Slowly adjusting herself on me
As if there to give me company
Even if it is for a short while

And in that short while are stories exchanged as if nothing else matters
And then as if bidding adieu she leaves
And here I lie again
Thinking of having been blessed by the touch...