Strange Imprints

As the night falls

I wonder what

Set the pace

Of Time

It moves

Freezes

Goes back

And forth

Yet always

Arrow of Time

Points always

Ahead

It circles

Around the

Life and Death

Beginning

And the End

I look at the stars

I look back

Millions of years

Wonder how do they

See our history

Unfolding

On a tiny

Blue Dot

Strange is the

Arrow of Time

Pointing into

Nowhere

Ticking away

Turning

Itself into ashes

Rising like a phoenix

Yet it always

Moves ahead

Stubbornly ahead

Leaving behind

Strange mute imprints

A sand dune there

Or a mountain here…

Silly Significance

With her chin-up
And chips down
With spring in her feet
She trots on the globe
Our blue dot
But she is not alone

There are billions of us
Totally lost
In the humongous mess
Of hundreds of imagined worlds
And faiths
And the great sense of propriety
All trying to be right
By proving others wrong

Kudos to us for
Throwing out the baby
– our sustenance
Along with the bath water

All self similar beings
Trying so hard
To advance their race
By killing each other
The sheer madness

We still love to imagine
And believe
It’s the sun that sets
Or rises for us
Instead of –
– that’s it’s we go
Around an axis
Downside up
And upside down
Along the elliptical

Planet doesn’t care
Whether it’s dinosaurs
Or only us
Neither does the Universe

Feeling all self-important
With bloated
or deflated egos
With the chin up
Or chips down
We continue to seek
our significance
In the grand cosmic
Insignificance

But does it have all to be
So dangerously silly?
by pitting imagined worlds
Imagined selves
And imagined gods
Against each other
And against Nature!

Strangeness

In a strange city

Trees grow

In abandoned homes

And uprooted people

Dwell beside the roads

There is no place

To plant trees

There is no home

For migrants

Trees grow

Inside old homes

And people grow old

Without homes

Both trees and people

Have become refugees

And homes are empty

Devoid of love

And compassion

Trees and people

Search for roots

In a strange city

On a strange planet

Kafkaesque

I exist therefore I am

I am therefore I exist

I am the means

and the end

I think

so I do

I do

so I think

I stand

so I believe

I believe

so I stand

I reason

to be

not to be

I protest

for Justice

That is blind

I am free

but chained

by law

But the law exists

to free the chains

what is Right

is also Left of Right

But Right is not wrong

so Left is Right

Brokenness

Brokenness

Sometimes I wonder,
Is it the brokenness
which holds the world together?
a crack that still holds parts?

Is it the brokenness that
unveils the Whole?
The imagined whole –
That never will be or
Maybe never was…

Even if the cracks give away –
Can broken pieces be
whole parts in themselves?
Or maybe broken parts
Will create a kaleidoscope

Sometimes I wonder
Is it the brokenness
that holds the world together?

What purpose does the Whole serve?
The Whole which excludes,
smugly nestled in itself
Till a crack breaks the egoistic shell
The Whole will never be a whole

Sometimes I wonder,
Is it the brokenness that
holds the world together?

Borders divide land and humans
But yet, when challenged
The humanity that rises,
Is often more than the sum
Of the broken souls

Sometimes I wonder,
Is it the brokenness that
that holds the world together?

A Musical Take on Decadence

There is a nice reference to the idea of being ‘decadent’ in Marianne Faithfull’s interview here . Its something to ponder upon…are we psychologically tuned to be decadent? But Marianne Faithfull has such a creative musical force within her that she has shown the world how not to let it destroy the mind and body, how to rise to be a witness to the universal decadence and heal the wounds that real decadent society inflicts upon our land and souls…