In prayer we listen to the voice of hope, and in despair we rise to the voice of life.

There has to be just enough fear to keep us alive,
there has to be just enough faith to show us the way,
there has to be just enough pain to make the happiness significant,
and there has to be just enough love to make us look stupid.

Monster

It's on nights like these
that the weary traveler
becomes the forbidden pilgrim.

The masses have sacrificed enough lives for the personal gain of the politician. When will the politician shed at least one 'honest' tear for the cause of the masses?

Killer Conscience

For most of us, what we do for a living & what we do to keep us ‘alive’ are two different things. At one end of the spectrum there are people who never feel the need to explore something (a purpose) that keeps them ‘alive’. They just tag along with the monotony of existence. At the other end, there are people who would stop at nothing to do stuff that keeps them ‘alive’. This breed will even kill for what keeps them ‘alive’. They have the usual day-to-day confrontations with conscience. But they fight it out...& they emerge!
In the end, nothing else would matter…but to kill.

When in dust, we all shall be equal

Mirror

Convergence

Creation is nouns & verbs; evolution is adjectives & adverbs. (Doc Searls inspired)

Blue Tooth

HELL

I
don’t see the fallen angels anymore.

My existence,
or the lack of it, knows
no hatred, no pain, no memories,
no torture, no ill humor…
I just linger pointlessly
scavenging between the hands of eternity.
At least, the vermin
that runs across the kitchen floor
is squished out of repulsion.
What am I?

Heavy

Thunder,
or the footsteps of the drifting clouds
-the evening shadows
flicker
in anticipation of the approaching storm.

Bad seed:

The Enlightenment

It was the most violent awakening.

I was burning with high fever - & yet
my instincts were sweating profusely.
Parts of me were still raging
with an unknown emotion:
which is nothing like fear nor anger.
It took all my senses a long time,
& a soul-sapping effort ,
to realize that I had abandoned
my ego along the way.

On mediocrity

On a clear day like today,
when the rush of the maddening hours has been subdued,
when the alarm of the bedside clock has been hushed,
and when the 'fight for survival' is a distant call of the memory,
I would let the music bask in my head
until it lasts.

And when tomorrow comes
I wouldn’t want the genius to raise the bar once again.
(Like today, let the average run the show.)