Chasing Sunshine

The first humans
To inhabit this planet,
Weren’t separated
Into scores of nations.

They were just people,
One or two groups,
Or perhaps a few,
Living together,
Until there were many –
But there weren’t any
Big books of rules,
Certainly not back then,
In the very beginning.

What started off
In the beginning,
Perhaps as clans,
A bringing together
Of familial lines,
And similar minds,
With the passage of time,
Evolved into tribes;
And further on,
Kingdoms were born.

In the beginning,
There was just land,
And of course water,
Spanning this planet –
Where everyone
Lived together,
Until someone decided,
To create a divide,
To seal their name
On a parcel of land,
And protect it
As their own.

Battles were fought,
And wars waged,
To protect kingdoms;
Someone’s loss,
Was another’s gain,
Here, a kingdom lost,
There, a kingdom won.
Where nature hadn’t
Allowed for distinctions,
Humans birthed demarcations,
And a multitude of nations.

And so, what began,
As an act,
To form a pact,
To serve for unity
Against the wild,
Was morphed in time,
To break the very core,
That gave it form.

Image Credit: Photo by Stephen Rahn on StockSnap

There is a sense
Of betrayal,
An undercurrent
So strong, that it sends
Your little boat
In the opposite direction,
To where you
Were meant to go.

Yours was a path,
That had been set
In solid stone,
Even before
You were born,
A path so steadfast,
One you had no choice
But to stay on;
Until you realized
One day,
That you no longer
Wanted to play
By the rules
Of this unfair game;
You were promised,
A wealth of love
Sans conditions,
But you find yourself,
Utterly lost,
In a tangle –
A veritable maze,
Of prayers and chants,
Some answered,
Some not;
In short,
A game of chance,
Such as awaits,
Every player
That has entered
This arena
We call life,
Godly, or not.

And for all the trust
You did invest,
Out of the precious
Little you possessed,
You got a lifetime’s worth
Of bruises to nurse,
Scars to disguise,
And most of all
Unwelcome shame,
The ultimate nail
In the coffin
Of your betrayal.

Image Credit: Photo by Paul Morris on StockSnap

Friendship should
Have rules,
Or perhaps not;
It certainly appears
To be bound,
By unspoken tenets
That bind friends
To each other.
And every so often,
It so happens,
That a wide eyed,
Slightly bewildered child,
Is let out
Into this arena,
And that they’re quite
Unprepared,
To bond with,
A motely group
Of their peers.

They try their best,
Playing games,
Holding hands,
Being called names,
Fielding fistfuls of sand
Hurled at their face;
Standing alone,
With a stub of coupons,
On a carnival ground,
Not quite knowing
Which way to go,
Their heart goes cold,
And lonely, their soul,
Despite the warmth
And camaraderie,
On display all around.

They grow up,
Not knowing
What they lack,
If they knew,
They’d try every hack;
Perhaps it’s in not
Having the knack,
To let loose
Their body and mind,
And choose
Not the quiet,
But the wild.

Image Credit: Photo by Mihai Vlasceanu on StockSnap

Joy and I,
Are like parallel lines;
We see each other
Across the chasm
Of this divide.

I dreamed of the time
When I’d make it mine,
As if it was
A trophy to be won,
Or something
To own.

But, with the passage
Of months and years,
I’ve come to know,
That joy is a keep sake,
And a safe place –
To catch a breath,
To break the flow
Of bitter tears;
A pursuit
That you choose,
To keep you sane.

And though it may
Forever be,
My parallel,
I ponder,
On the ways
To build a bridge,
To bring us together
Every now and then.

Image Credit: Photo by Mike Moloney on StockSnap

My home is filled
With spaces and nooks,
And sometimes
Entire rooms,
Which I spent time
In setting up,
In trying to choose,
The exact hue
Of green, grey and blue,
That would bring
The right ambience,
Or perhaps the zing,
And fill my heart
With songs to sing –

Alas, my home is filled
With these spaces,
Nooks,
And a room or two,
That I have yet to
Sit down in,
And feel at peace,
To feel the essence
Or the zen,
I hoped to feel.

I have been
So very busy
Getting to places,
Travelling from,
One station
To the next,
That I fail,
To sit and wait,
On that cosy armchair,
Surrounded by the green
Of house plants
That I carefully nurture,
While life whizzes by.

And I regret
To admit,
That I quite forget,
The last time
That I sat in that nook
By the window,
Which overlooks
The quiet street –
A slow tale,
Unfolding in the pages,
Of the book
I hold in my hand,
As I sit back,
And savour
These random moments,
Of mundane days,
When the sun rays,
Shine in through
Every room,
Lighting them up
With a brilliance,
That dispels darkness,
And every inch of gloom.

Where children played
In lush green fields,
And after which
They took a dip,
At the foot
Of gushing falls;
Where the mist
Of the early morning,
Hung low among
The verdant hills
Where it seemed
Worth living in,
The bounteous midst
Of nature’s gifts,
There she struck
Like ne’er before,
A mighty blow
At the very core,
Of what was once,
Seemingly so,
One of her own
Favourites.

She poured her fury
Down in torrents,
She ripped the land,
Sending rocks, mud and sand,
In humungous swathes,
Down the slopes
Once kissed so gently
By the morning mist,
Now transformed.

And hapless folks,
Who’d slept in their homes,
Peacefully, not long ago,
Were swept away,
Or swamped beneath
The filth flowing
Down the hill,
Not living to see,
Another day
Dawn on the ravage,
That the benevolent mother
Turned savage,
Has left behind
In her wake.

All we can do now,
Is to watch in horror,
As she seeks to plunder
Everything she bestowed,
Out of her bounty,
Once, long ago,
And wonder
“Where did we go wrong?”

#waynandlandslide

Image Credit: Photo by Nguyen Nguyen on StockSnap

In the darkest moments
Of the loneliest nights,
When my little boat
Was seemingly lost,
The stars in the sky
Gave me company,
As they shone
Endlessly,
And so too,
The crescent
Of the nascent moon.

On the dreariest
Of days,
When I wilted under,
The scorching gaze
Born of outrage,
Wondering if I would
Be torched in the blaze,
The gentle summer breeze,
Blew in from nowhere,
To soothe,
As best as it could.

In all of life’s twists,
And many turns,
If there is one friend,
Who always persists
In showing up,
And staying through,
As no human
Ever could,
It is you –
You have been,
And always will be,
All around me,
And deep within too;
You gracefully assume,
The form and shape
That best suits,
The storm I face,
To come and stand
Beside me,
Not speaking,
And yet yes,
Through just being,
Through mere presence –
Every moment,
And always.

Image Credit: Photo by World Travel Adventures on StockSnap

I

Neither the mother bird,
Nor the father,
Would have ever,
For a second wondered,
If their baby
Would fly;
They just knew,
That their fledgling
Was born to
Fly –
That his wings,
Albeit tiny,
Would one day
Hold the strength,
To carry their baby
Far away,
And that he
Would not fall,
No matter how tall
The tree,
From which he
Took flight.

II
Every baby
Ever born,
Is but a fledgling
For its kind,
Full of good things,
Hiding within,
Waiting to be
Fully revealed,
When they take flight.
I wish every mind,
Had a light
Glowing within,
A light to guide
The sojourner,
On the path,
The exact path,
That leads
To contentment,
And a heart
Overflowing with peace.

Image Credit: Photo by Kate Remmer on StockSnap

I see you now
In a different light,
Perhaps the night
Has helped bestow
This fresh insight;
And though you exude defiance,
I see the hint
Of fear in your eyes,
And as you lower them,
I see a touch of shame,
Knowing there are others’
Focused on you,
Some malignant,
Glowering with sheer rage,
And some others
Utterly nonchalant.

I see you
In those moments,
So many of them –
All blending,
Into one and the same;
I see the tears
That finally came,
And I see the tears
That you swallowed then;
I see you,
From where I am stood,
And I wonder if you knew
How much it would hurt,
Even beyond the blue
Of the mighty ocean.

Image Credit: Photo by Matt Bango on StockSnap

This box
That you find yourself in,
Is much like a pool –
It gives you a sense
Of what might be,
The possibilities –
But it is confined,
It is not open;
Just like a pool
Is not the ocean.

You stand at the edge,
Held back by your fears,
You fear that you’ll drown
In your own tears,
Before the currents get you,
It is better to be hedged
By these walls of fear,
That you almost hold dear.

So you tell yourself,
That you are just fine
Staying in your box,
Swimming in your pool,
Not for you the open,
Not for you the ocean.

Your deep sighs
Are but signs
Of your turmoil,
Your blanket’s a heap
On the unswept floor,
Every morning;
You have tossed and turned,
On more nights
Than you can count,
Your heart beats wild,
As if to chide
Your reluctance,
To take the plunge,
And make friends
With your deepest fears,
To swim out into the expanse
Of the welcoming ocean,
To step out of the box
Into the open.

Image Credit: Photo by JJ Skys the Limit on StockSnap