Through the eye of the mountain..

Ah!! what a day came by,

Before the sun rose high,

My snores were not yet silent,

My dreams were still fresh but violent,

When suddenly, I felt something hurt..

Raging with anger, I opened my eyes,

And saw the battle again with a sigh!!

Those little things fighting for me, lo!

All of them look alike, whether friend or foe..

What do they call them? Men, I think..

Ripping each others throats as I blink.

I was aghast!!

I looked above, on to the heavens vast, 

Dropped a silent tear,

The birds around were screeching with fear.

What can I do to stop this madness??

The bloodshed, the canon blasts, were shattering..

I was sitting useless, whiling away the time,

And below me, they were dying..

Mournfully, I closed my eyes.

Then, I heard a voice by my side.

Running, panting, sweating, he came,

I knew not the name.

He sat down, resting against me.

Shivering vigorously, I could feel it,

Was it fear of death, or regret for life? 

No!! They were sobs, I saw.

The tears trickling down his cheek.

Washing away the grime and gore.

I saw his eyes, they were blue.

Once, they were bright, it seemed,

But now they were hollow.

The man behind them, already dead.

He raised his head, up high,

And broke into a heart-rending cry.

I felt myself being ripped apart.

He cried endlessly, I wished I could comfort.

He threw the killing machine he carried,

With all his might.

Then from his boot, he took out a paper.

Unfolded it, and kissed it.

The woman in it, was old, I saw.

Then finally, I heard his voice,

"Mother! I now know, what father might have felt!!

I've killed eight of them, the enemies, they say.

They were all my age, sons of mothers,

Husbands of some beautiful wives,

I killed them mother, I made widows and orphans.

I saved my Country, should I be proud?

You'd be proud I know.

But I killed, mum, I killed.

When I come back, I'll hide myself in your bosom,

Your tears might wash this blood away,

Your love will help me be forgiven,

But if I never return....

Do tell Lucy, I loved her,

And I loved you too remember..."

Then there was a deafening noise,

The man was gone...

He lay in pieces in my lap.

The rage within me roared.

Why do they do this? I deplored.

He was his mother's Blue Eyed Boy,

He loved and was loved.

Why did he have to die so soon?

What purpose was he killed, for whom?

They're lies for what they die,

They're lies on what the autocrats survive.

They're lies on what the world, they divide.

They're lies for what the Humanity died

Nothing but Lies, 

To you My son, They lied....

Death of Freedom

How did it end?
Suddenly in one swoop?
Or was it slow poisoning?
Lethal but invisible, creeping slowly towards the edge?
How? I know not.
But I know she died, and terrible, was it.
Not easy, suffocating and brutal.

A cat hath nine, she had ten of them,
The Lives, but all lost.
I was there, cherishing its flight
Enjoying the ride of life, flying with her....!!
And, high she flew, not knowing the boundaries and horizons,
Her zenith was always untouched, she aspired for more.
I was so accustomed, thought life would
Be nurtured in her care.

But today, those iron hands gagged her, thrashed her,
Clipped her wings, clawed her feathers, ripped her throat.
Snatched life out of her body.

There she lay, in front of my eyes,
Bleeding, Lifeless....

I ran towards her, held her hand,
They were cold, I kissed them in desperation,
As to blow warmth into her, rekindle the flame.
But, Alas! the blow had struck with stark finality.
The End had come, nothing could resurrect her.
My tears were meaningless.
I could only moan and mewl.
I touched those eyes, green and empty.
The brilliance was dark.

I felt lost, I felt alone, I felt deserted.

How could the Truth be dead?

What will I do?
What could I do?
Life without her was never known, never did it exist..
I got up on my feet, shivering, unsteady,
Still I moved,
Finding the End, the way out.
I ran North, I found Chains,
I ran South, I had walls,
I ran East, I ran West,
No doors came, no windows seen.
The skies, though, stood clear above me,
but my flight lay dead.
I could see the sunlight but not feel it.
I was trapped within.
The sun set, the stars twinkled,
The sun rose, the birds chirped,
The rain splattered, the birds chirped,
Days came and went by and were made into Years.

I stood till eternity,
Me and My dead Freedom.

CHOICE vs. REASON.

"Tadbeer se bigdi huyi taqdeer bana le,
Apne pe bharosa hai to ye daanw laga le..."


A popular song of the black and white era stands completely justified in the era that I live in. Bedazzling, colorful and Blinding, Confusing....
The song symbolizes the spirit of risk taking..

A Poem that i read during school-

"If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch and toss,
And lose and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss........
....
And which is more- you'll be a man my son...."


Amazingly similar words by Rudyard Kipling.


RISK is a risky word. If you risk all your earnings in one gamble, the possibilities are just two, either you win to double all your winnings or you lose, to be standing alone with nothing left but your hope, your nerve, and your spirit to build up everything yet again.


But to my fears, it isn't as simple as written. The eulogy of Risk isn't everybody's genre. 


Is it easy to risk all you have, not necessarily monetary, but emotional, mental, spiritual or social?
To risk the ground underneath your feet to learn to spread your wings and fly, you may not cross the horizons on your first flight. The chances are as soon as you spread your wings and jump off a cliff you may fall into the unknown depths.... The ground you had beneath your feet, firm and strong would never be found again. Dire consequences waiting for you. Failure, standing with its arms wide open, the Gorgon Medusa, to engulf you, to devour you. 


Dare devils do not fear the consequences, they say. Well, I do agree. The fear of what may come should have only a limited influence on my decisions. 


But what if you need to risk your conviction?
or,
The belief of society, at large?

Just to find the answers of some rhetorical questions that arise contiguously  out of a bubbling, boiling mind, then the dare devilry in me or you gives up.

A man is not as afraid to lose his money, or a dear one, as he is to lose his belief. To be proved wrong, to be told that all principles you grew up with, were wrong, would it be easy?
This is a risk that no one is ready to take.

But I face the same question, each time I step into something new. Because, I never accept things as they are, I need a reason for everything said and done.
Questions like a swarm of bees keep buzzing in my mind. At each step, I need to choose. One out of the two paths. I have no leads, except  the arguing voices in my mind. One that stands for my whims and the other that seems to be the general right.
Philosophies state, "follow your heart till the end." (Though, I may not kill someone if my heart asks me to do so.;))
That is where logic has to play it's part. It is always CHOICE vs. REASON. 
It is in my hand whether to risk my choice for my reason, or to risk my reason for my choice.
All I have learned throughout my life is,
If you have to fly, you need to shun all support, because all you learn by holding hands, is to totter.


Sriti.