Empty mind is a Devil's Workshop.

eating, gnawing, gnashing, gnarling;
staring in your face and snarling.
harking, barking, whistling howling;
then saying "how are you darling?"

Oh yes, this is Hell.
Oh yes, you might as well;
Accept how deep you fell.
Welcome to Hell.

The fires never stop here
The pain is naked and bare
Where life flees for its life
running hither there.

Oh yes, this is Hell.
Oh yes, you might as well;
Accept how deep you fell.
My Hell. My Hell.

Me, Mother and the Diamond.

Playing in the sand
under my mothers eyes
I found something,

it sparkled like a thousand suns on a clear day
like raindrops reflecting the moonlight
as though smiling shyly at me.
colors...oh the colors
my own rainbow I thought at first.
but it was more than just pretty colours.

I was dumbfounded, reflective

dazed and confused.

how could it be I find something so beautiful,
its radiance, its color,
its touch, its structure

I was in love with my new find,
amazed I was,
but then I am a child.

children are but children,
maybe they really do not know if something is really worth
the admiration I showered upon my discovery now


I clambered from my playing spot
and ambled to my mother

"mother, mother" I yelled in glee
"look what I have..."


My mother looked up,
her eyes concerned,
and saw the light in my eyes
and in my hand.

"Oh my god" she whispered
my child's eyes could not see what she was afraid of
"drop it...oh drop it" said she and I
just stared rooted there.

"drop it...it's a piece of glass"


I wanted to say some, at this time
I wanted to tell it was a diamond... my diamond
It would never hurt me
and that I would treasure it

"Drop it.. the wicked piece of glass"

Maybe it a wasn't diamond
but it wasn't wicked for sure,
How can a pure mind find something impure?

"drop it... you will hurt yourself"

No Mother, this wont hurt me
I found it in the sand
look how bright it glows
look how good it feels

"drop it ... it will hurt you"

No Mother, it was lying like this
forgotten, forlorn
I found it and now it loves me as much as I
I deserve it, Ma
Don't I?

"drop it... it's dangerous"

how could she think I'd endanger myself
but then I am a child
my mind is young and so is my wisdom,
in my mother's eyes,
It will be so,forever.

"drop it... it's not worth it"

if she could see it from as close as I was
maybe she would have said
it was flawless both from the inside and out,
the very thing I wanted to say.

these are things I wanted to say...
these are feelings I wanted to share
with mother.

but then she said

"drop it ...for god's sake..."
"drop it for my sake" said she,
tears in her eyes.

my hand opened... of it's own accord.
the jewel slipped and fell in the mud.
Lost forever, to me.


I wanted to say
I would not drop the Diamond for God.
I may not give up anything for Him

but for you,
I'd give my life, Ma.

Haiku?

Is this real Haiku;
Yeah dude its five - seven- five;
Oh ya so it is.

The Search.

I set out one day to find something,
some vicious, sinful malignance
some artful dodging, some cunning,
some foolishness, some lack of sense.

and then I found myself as I

and realized this fact of life was true

that if you try to find malice, vile

the answer may very well be you.

Sonnet of the Winter.

And the leaves wither and die,
And lie in the frost beneath.
I wonder do every blooming; living thing ever
has an end so harsh and bleak.

Because this is a blizzard of despair,
There is a frost of sadness over everything.
And the snow mouse scurries for wisps of heat,
dry fluff, white wool and bits of string.

I wonder if life has its meaning,
over these stranded hints of strife,
When the Death comes over and mourning is over,
Will there still be a Life?

The Boatman

Slither slither the water slaps the boat,

the edges blurring,

moving towards the other end,
the Boatman rows.
Nobody knows why he rows,
ever in this looming melancholy,
rowing silently with vigour,
with a silent symphany.
The darkness of the water ,
is attractive,seductive,
why doesn't he plunge beneath,
into the cool retreat.
But he rows on relentlessly,
untired limbs working away,
sweat breaking on his brow,
his passengers restless,
Because the River is threatening,
calm and cold,
it flows with a vigour,
powerful yet dominating.
Remarkable though it is,
daunting it seems,
darkness overflows and meets the light,
half elation and sorrow.

I often ask the Boatman,
why does he do it,
so on and so forth,
isn't it better to leave?
He smiles inimitably,
and moves his hand over his face saying,
when you have crossed the river,
as many times as I
Nothing seems to matter,
after a while,
everything's just,
coming and going.

I realize
that is what life is,
some come in,
some go out,
we are the boatman of our life,
And the comers mere passengers,
the goers mere passers,
The Boatman doesn't befriend them,
and he tells me to do the same,
"one day they all leave..."
I try to follow,
I ask him about the lure of the river
he says only the fear of the unknown
keeps him from abandoning his boat,
it's tempting to give up the boat of life,
and plunge into the unknown,
But then,
who knows what it has in store?
the Boatman doesn't know
and so I don't.

Falling.

Falling... Falling... my life flashing.

unseeming glimpses of my past.

I am falling backwards watching above.

from where I fell , aghast.

speechless I am my barren voice.

the visions slid by me , I

am but a morbid particle on the

highway of death and life.



I am falling alone here

but wait , there is something there,

something, no , someone falling with me,

hovering with me in the air.

I am ecstatic,finally

someone travelling my journey too,

she smiles back, looks at me ,

as if saying I love you.



If this was the journey of life,

I'd take the fall again.

not to have the visions and dreams,

not to suffer any pain.

but to spend some time with the lovely voice,

did I not tell you above?

If this is not then what it is

but pure free-falling in love?

...

The morning pitches bright;
I stand over
watching over the rebirth of the day and time
watching silently ; I pause and try
to decipher meaning in this moment of simplicity
when all the world is at its primal eventuality
I stare and I hope I'll forget the past
but invariably;as always;it comes rushing back
throwing me into the void obfuscating
gapeless and obliviating

I step onto those broken shards of time
these hurt me ever more now;
and as always I wonder how;
when if I am free of all that stood against.
and when my time on this earth is over.
will I ever be whole??
unscathed unharmed untouched undisturbed
innocent calm untiring unperturbed

will my suffering ever end or will I just
keep up my smiles to the world

hollow these are;laughter and smile;
these are not me;
and I am not them;
these are just for the sake of the world
gain acceptance; appease friends
and so I do try to make amends

but then again I falter and show
my real self
to someone I know
and they have a fleeting glimpse
into the deepest recessses of my heart
every now and then
they come and say
"why don't you let all this out?"
I smile; the fake smile; and I try to show
It's not always what you are that holds
It's what you achieve in this short period of life that counts
It's not even your character that amounts
Itself; on everyone else
It's finally how you affected the world you lived

did you try your best to get someone to smile...
did you give your best to keep the life alive...


"you did all this and yet you suffered"
my friend; understand;now it hardly matters

"the shards still hurt you; I mean"
shards are built for hurting ;you see

"it's no use living in the past"
I know I know I knew it last;

"it's a blaze and it will consume you whole
...this pain will take its toll"

before they can speak I tell them this
it is the pain I felt that makes me as it is
I remeber how it hurt and I try and I try
never again should anyone cry
for the same reason for the same thing
this is not suffering 'tis a lesson
of life that I learnt
you are asking me to forget what I learnt
you are asking me to cover where it burnt

no my friend no no no
my life is an open book you know
my experiences are for everyone to share
my successes and failures and risks and dares

what use is life if it it's of use to noone
what is the use if we sit moping and sigh

my friend has no answer...
and when i think of it

neither do i...


the morning is now over
the time of rebirth has gone away.
I am me again
and I will stay this way.


-Samar

My Soul....

This Poem I wrote in two minutes when my dear friend DP Ankit and me were getting frussst in our dear HS teacher's class............ yo ..


My soul yearns to fly;
High high in the sky.

Like a kite colorful and bright,
Flowing away in the abyss of light.

Like an eagle; sharp and loud
Piercing the bosom of clouds.

Even I'd be a storm tossed leaf
Hither tither as the wind please.

But I am tethered to the ground
Just like a moss covered stone.

Just stranded never abound
Stationary,cold,abrupt,alone;

How would I even love to fall
Watch my weariness fall away!!!

My feet just kissing the ground
While the world just; falls away.

My soul yearns to fly
High high in the sky.

Of the dawn...

When the dew drops shine as white pearls;
and the mist starts to rise in swirls;
When the early bird gets the worm;
When the wind blows gently on the berm;
When the darkness strives, but the light wins;
That is when the day begins.
When the rousing of household finally starts;
When their is a feeling of warmth in every heart;
When the cold is dispelled and warmth starts to grow;
When the sun peeks from the top of hedgerow;
When the deep blue sky finally blushes to pink;
That is when the day begins.
When the cool air freshens the mind and soul;
When life begins anew as a whole;
When the dread of the night does depart;
When the countryside looks like a work of art;
When the little child wakes up and blinks;
That is when the day begins.

Ever seen the faces of the children of the streets?
Those filthy, dirty dregs of deprivation
Living under the bare sky on the bare ground
Fighting dogs of poverty and wolves of starvation.

Ever seen the faces of children begging in the market?
Maybe you have never felt their pain
asking over and over for a paisa, a coin
Rejected again.... Dejected again.

Ever seen the kids eating out of the trash?
they squabble over the tiny last scrap
they celebrate their 'discovery' with joy
Licking and sucking on the wrap.

Ever seen the woman cling to the sick baby?
have you ever seen the helplessness and her fears
for the piece of her flesh she loves and cares
now she has naught for him, than tears.

Ever seen the old man white with age?
I wonder where the son left his old man
to die, I am sure, and he hasn't still
pottering about with his shaky hands.

Ever seen Poverty from close
where you can really smell what it thinks
Ever thought what it might
be thinking about where it lies curled
Or have you only thought about how bad it looks, and stinks
and turned your face like the rest of the world....

Of Something...

I live on the Earth ; the place I live
is filled with tyrants and talkers glib.

They talk abundantly about times to come
Whilst all the work done becomes undone.

They talk about the sun , and the moons and stars
and the glorious battles and the various wars.

And they talk about work to do
of rebuilding the said homes left crude.

Hypocrites; Vultures and similar scum
sitting , gloating, at humanity's helm

While the Rest do their best to find
some food, some rest and peace of mind.

You know what I think when I see what we are
When I see these atrocities by and far,

The seemingly simple thought crosses my mind
Do you know where I live ; where all kind eats its kind

And the very carrion eaters that dwell
are the rulers of us and well

We are but the miserable prey
Cursed to be hunted and they

Know the sword of oppression has and will
overcome all strength and valour and skill

Of all the wars the warriors die in gallantry
At the end of the campaign, its the King's victory

At the end the public claps and cheers
for "the King was masterful in battle O hear!"

How sorry the bodies lay in the dust prone
at the mercy of the elements and toiler drone;

But no ; "How much the king sacrificed and lost"
While the gridiron fields get covered in frost

Oh how much lies and how much fallacy
Oh how much deceit and how much treachery

And so I wonder is here where we stay
destined to ,like always, fade away

How I wish to sprout some wings ,
and to fly where the free wind sings.

Where man is really free as he thought
and where goop and bigotry comes to a naught.

And so do I wish to fill this void,
Utopia you may call it, I like Paradise.

And seeking now the said Land, is all I dream
And though futile this task of mine might seem

I promise, oh I do, I will find it where
it lies; and then, only there

Shall my mind find the rest it seek-ed
where men will be brave no head will be meek

And the freeness of thought shall flow like the river
Shining as hope , as joy in every sliver

Where equality and love will have no dearth
And that ,my friends, shall be renamed Earth.

And that, my friends, shall be renamed Earth.

-Sam