dreams – Mad Decadence

Climate Chaos

Some blame it on nature
The sun’s activity cycles
Some blame it on human activities
Unprecedented cutting of trees
And encroachment of lakes and forests
So I guess Earth is playing it fair
It blows too hot, dry or humid
And just when humans start complaining
It blows hailstorms, cyclones and rains
With water water everywhere
And nowhere for it to go!!

My house help lamented the other day
That I was spending a lot on house plants
She hinted jokingly that money could help poor
Ah!! The fallacy of existence
I could only smile back and say
They were my buddies who gave me free oxygen and beautiful flowers for free
We take the oxygen we breathe much for granted
Just like the clean water we drink
And the gravity and the magnetic field
And also the sun and the moon
And of course our sole planet earth
While we spend billions to find exoplanets
With a hint of the existence of life

Perhaps, we deserve this wrath of nature
To reset our perspectives and context
Nothing is unlimited and forever
And everything follows
The law of reciprocity
Hate begets hate and Love begets love
Eye for an eye has blinded the humanity
Yet we refuse to learn
We make it all about profits and money
Climate chaos will be good for climate insurance

Rich will get richer and poor will become poorer
Except for the few who will be paraded as hope
The model examples of rags to riches tale
The dream after all needs to be sold
To keep nightmare going!!!

Going Solo

It didn’t take long

To go solo

Be it movies

Or restaurants

Or museums

Or a bookstore

Or treks

I don’t even remember

When it began

Perhaps during my college

My long solo commute?

Every daily commuter

Is always alone

Though almost crushed

In a crowded train or bus

There is a constant

Inner talk with self

About a thing

Or millions of things

Or just an empty mind

Too fatigued to think

You don’t need people

When you grow up

So rugged

And then of course

There are betrayals

Of trust and time

Then there was beautiful phase

When my newborn boy

Became my extension

I was never alone

I was his constant

For that tiny life

I had brought forth

Into this chaotic world

I was never alone

Kids never let you be

Unless you play along

So often it would

Be the library or bookstore visits

Where I would sit solo

In line of sight of my boy

Far far away in the kids section

I don’t remember

Who exactly was I

Training to be alone ?

After the boy grew up

And flew off far far away

I made up my mind

To be the solitary reaper

Of my abandoned pursuits

I unearthed my buried self

In place of a girl in 20’s

Out came a woman in her 50’s

More calmer, confident and wiser

Much slower too

How I wish I could reach out

To that girl and tell her to go solo

The world abandons you anyways

Women are supposed to play

A second fiddle in everything

Wish I could spare her from

All the traumas and dilemmas

And of course all the tears

My dark circles are rightfully earned

But here I am in my 50’s

Carrying that abandoned

Spirit of my 20’s

I know it feels absurd

To those who never tried

(Or didn’t have to)

To stand up for oneself

And live for a while

Remember?

We have abandoned our earth too

Who moves solo in the dark space

And then there is the final solo act

When we depart solo!!

Imposter Syndrome

In a world

Where judgement

Precedes knowledge

Prejudice before

Understanding

In an era

Where world tries

To make you

Someone else

Weaves a tale

That suits their

Narratives

A world where

You are a misfit

You feel naturally

Like an imposter

In a world

Everything seems

Staged and performative

A doll’s house perhaps

Anything original

Is constantly doubted

Needing proof

A world which

Keeps validating lies

Creating false narratives

And a cloud of confusion

What else can you feel

But an imposter?

There are masks

Behind masks, underneath masks

Agendas hiding agendas

Like Martyoshka dolls

All identical and empty

A riot of shamelessness

Arrogance of patriarchy

What else can you be?

But an Imposter

Shape shifting, flowing

Trying to fit in

But feeling half empty

And also overwhelmed

You didn’t ask for this ride

You didn’t ask for these lies

Or these false narratives

Not sure who is

Hallucinating here

Me or you ?

Or who is the imposter?

Me? Or You?

Or the humanity itself!!

The Night Sky

Once upon a time

I would lie under the starry night

In utter darkness

To do a Messier marathon

I knew those magnificent

Beauties of the night sky

By their first name

Out of nowhere

They would appear

Once sun disappeared

We would behold them

In the field of view

Of our small and big

Telescopes facing the night sky

Just like the sun

Constellations would dip too

Below the horizon

While new ones appeared

Nothing compares to the

Silence and darkness

Of the dark night sky

Which has inspired

Countless artists and poets

I trust the night

It removes the blinding lights

Both sun and moon are absent

We can peer much deeper

And beyond

Going back in time

14 billion years is the age of the Universe

Along the way multitude of stars

In the billions of galaxies

Are burning away

Fusing atoms together

Forming newer elements

Elements that make you and me

And every being on this planet

We are after all atoms

Trying to figure out atoms

A scientist famously said

Annihilation preludes creation

And vice versa

Creation of new particles

And elements go on

Till the stable ones are born

Nature loves stability

But then entropy is a reality too

In the great cosmic churning

Life indeed is a miracle

But then…

One day after millions of years

The sun will die…

It will engulf the earth

Growing into a red giant

Till then we will play perhaps

This game of war and fear

While sending missions into the space

Such contradicting realities of our existence

We needn’t end it all here and now

We are self similar beings

Made of same cosmic dust

It would be such a pity

To cut this fabulous story short!!

PS: Inspired by Rainer Maria Rilke’s book – Poems to Night

Travels

Intriguing migratory birds

With tiny magnetic compasses

In their tiny little being

Navigating with perfection

They travel miles and miles

Across from Siberia and elsewhere

To find their little green oasis

Their islets, wetlands

To stay and nest

Till the fledglings are strong enough

They are so faithful to

Their geography and biology

Tuned perfectly

To the Nature of their very being

I wonder how they perceive

The climate change

And the erratic weather

Also the flying drones

And fighter planes

All set forth by humans

To take over land and resources

That doesn’t even belong to them

Migratory birds

Are quite enviable

They don’t need papers

To prove they nationalites

They fly high above

Man made borders

Who knows maybe

They will be

Saviours of life on earth

When humans go extinct

Poetry Ai’nt Luxury

If poetry were a luxury

Afforded by only few

The world wouldn’t have known

Realities of poverty, hunger and war

That lament of loss and grief

Poetry ain’t luxury

Thankfully

A little girl hiding in an attic

With just a paper and pen

Multitudes of thoughts and emotions

Finds an alternative realm

Realm of words and emotions

Those damn slaves, those blues singers

Poetry freed them from slavery

Songs and poetry of protests

Gave language, words and idioms

To the oppression and violence they endured

Poetry gave the moon and stars

Silver linings another meaning

Metaphors for hopes, love and loss

There wouldn’t be lullabys

There won’t be haikus

Long and short

Lyrical and free verse

Had poetry been a luxury

It belongs to those who own it

A craft they are willing to hone it

It says much even in its pauses

Brevity is its expanse

Poetry is a friend

Who walks along

Encouraging one to face life

It is like those fallen and trampled flowers

A true evidence of life lived and unlived.

Difficult Days

These are difficult days

When reality occults the dreams

It is bizarre isn’t it?

Reality that we try to figure out

Or try to make sense of ?

Is this also imagined ?

Then what is real?

What I think is real real?

The time that ticks away?

Or the dream that fades over time?

Is time too imagined?

Just like dreams ?

Sun does rise for real

But again it’s a play

Play of light, atmosphere

We see it before it even

Peeps over the horizon

While setting sun lingers elsewhere

It rises for us in full glory

It illuminates the tiniest dust particles

While darkness engulfs elsewhere

With no power to light their lives

Powerless have to make through

Another cold imprisoned night

Maybe darkness is a blessing

That hides the cruelty, rubble

That amputated humanity

Missing its phantom spine

Where do we go from here?

Dreams are the only ransom

We can pay

To continue existing

Dreams of freedom

And that hopeless hope

Stars twinkling away far off

They are the witnesses

Of how our sun was born

And our Earth came into being

How dinosaurs roared and vanished

Maybe if we can fine tune

From somewhere

Maybe it is still visible

How it all began

The eternal cycle of

creation and destruction

It is such a pity

We want to behold pleasure

Which comes at the cost of pain!

We want to behold AI

Which comes at the I

These are difficult days…

Sometimes It Is Too Late…

A petit pink fresh flower

Fell on the roadside

Just detached from the mother tree

I thought of picking it up

On my way back

As I walked ahead

A big SUV passed me by

At the end of the lane

As I turned

I saw it backing

Into its marked zone

To park perhaps

To my utter dismay

The wheels went over

That petit pink flower lay crushed

Beneath the mother tree

Sometimes it is just too late

To behold, cherish and save

Beauty is often fragile and transient

Always ending up crushed

Under the ruthless

Wheels of the civilization

Sometimes it is too late

Most times it is too late!!

Light and Dark

Light and darkness
Both fill my home
I have made peace
With both
For, I dwell in the greys

I never had a life plan
But life did have a design
Without a choice
I went along

I chose life or
Life chose me
Here we are
Conversing daily

I don’t know
What happens tomorrow
Or day after
Or years later

I am fatigued
I am just arriving
At my present
Made of nows

Don’t ask me
About my future
Or the path that
Hasn’t yet appeared

Perhaps, I will forever
Dwell in the greys and greens
To soak in the blue hour
Seeking stars, comets and the moon

My Happy Place

We all look for it

A proverbial ‘happy place’

A place where

One can be oneself

One can find yourself

One learns to look

At self and world differently

In the life’s roller coaster ride

There is always one place, one city

Where you know

You are safe

Not just because of people

But in spite of people

You step out

And the breeze simply seems

To blow to carry away your worries

Making breathing easy

The green canopies and flowering trees

Waft of filter coffees and dosas,

The flower fragrances

Aromatically you are home too

You may not have roots here

But it lets you grow and rediscover

Your own forgotten self and dreams

Though the traffic is traumatic

It soothes your trauma

Bangalore, what else do I say?

I literally got my second life here

After that near fatal accident

The neurologist too humoured me

With a local humour which is mild and raw

But punches do land

No wonder stand ups thrive here

The city where startups are often born to die

In a shortest span of time

People know how to pick themselves

Where uber drivers too have tales

Of bad investments and losses

You taught me to pick myself up too

Many years ago and later now

I find my broken self here in the bookshops

In science spaces and conversations

Where people still assert

While respecting boundaries

They listen, they let you have the mic

This city feels like my happy place

I can be anyone here

Educator, poet, archivist, traveller

Storyteller, photographer, reader, writer

And be them all at once too

Mankind consists of all kinds

But I always find more of my kind

In this good old charming city

(Which is fast losing its charms)

To which I keep returning to

With my scars and bruises

To my utter surprise

People call me a healer

That’s how we just heal each other

With conversations over cuppas

Of filter coffees or walks

Undramatically, unknowingly

A calm city which is no hurry

To be smart, fast or the best

Maybe hostile and unwelcoming to some

But then we all need to

Find our happy and safe space

Which lets us be…our unapologetic self