DABBLER SCRIBBLES

I see men come and men go,

Like the wind on meadows that flow,

I hear them whisper deep desires,

Like the arrows that the mind fires,

I see them chase the city glitters,

To finally fall like the tree that withers,

I feel their agony behind the smiles,

Which sparks a heart-fire from miles,

I see them curse the dawning sun,

And not see the amber melt in the sapphire ocean,

I see them walk like a lifeless herd,

All clamoring but none to be heard,

I see them whimper silent weep,

And the endless grey in their eyes deep,

I see them fall by a breeze of pain,

Drowning in its endless daunting rain,

I see them and when I finally see me,

I see a great desire to be free,

But when I ask, for what good of life

Have you homed the dead willow tree?

 Quiet and masked in the vicious worldly glow,

They leave me to see hapless men come and go.

(This poem was to celebrate World Book Day on 23-April. Thanks for reading)

Pointy edge of the charcoal beast,

Scribbling on the dead white papers,

Swaying,

With his dexterous mind,

Brisk in its flamboyant flavors,

The echoes of the corporal voices,

Preaching mundane lesson,

Urging him to stay chained,

In their vicious, bounded garrison,

But he chooses to sneak away,

To the farfetched world, beyond their vision,

Unheeded,

For he is “The Artist”,

Novice,

Free like the ravens over Himalayas,

Zillion thoughts sparking his mind,

Like the luminous thunders at dark nights,

Rebellious,

Dreamer,

What can he be more?

The celebrated creative learner.

( This post is dedicated to a friend of creative wit, Jaswanth)  

Glow with me through this lucent night,

Amidst the dark in the city lights,

Like the hundred blazing suns,

Splendid, nocturnal, selfless burns,

Street lamps like the glowing stars,

Dazzling city at these late hours,

What you see is not farfetched now,

Step along I will show you how,

Décor night with these luminous dots,

Never more pretty and ever will be not,

Come along, just aglow tonight,

And be lost forever in these city lights.

Hatred forged, disaster stricken,

Murderous souls no mercy reckoned,

The least beauty in the fabric of time,

A weave, god said was not mine,

Heliographies of the wasted emotion,

A heart, amidst the chaotic nation,

When cupid was flying back to Olympus,

With his arrows, looking less pompous,

What shall the fate here be?

He stood there for once to see,

The little world beside the ocean,

Washed of peace, hatred swallowed potion,

Ruins of the broken wall,

Rammed like it was hell’s call,

A man with a lady in sight,

The only two against the hideous fight,

While all others summoned death,

They smuggled themselves into forest wealth,

Neutral hearts, clear as crystal shinning,

No hatred, cupid went deep mining,

And then he knew he had a shot now,

The two were to fall in love, but how?

He pulled an arrow, rested on his bow,

Only to have the hatred show,

Launched it right to the chest of man,

Where the seed of love can,

Grow and bloom like pretty orchid,

Everlasting and placid,

And then an arrow at the woman’s heart,

Love planted by the cupid smart,

They succumbed to love in each other,

Like two bodies but a soul in together,

Cupid smiled and finally whispered the word,

Spread love and make this place a better world!!!

ESSENCE:

“A city where the feeling of hatred has forged a disaster and made all the people murderous, conspiring deaths and killing each other it was hard for cupid, the roman god of love to go back to mount Olympus, the gods land in roman mythology, ignoring the chaos. He stood there to see the destruction and was worried about the diminishing love. Amidst the chaos and hatred a man and a lady, who did not have any malice or hatred at heart decided to run away from the destruction. Cupid felt their pure hearts and decided to invoke love among them. He shoots an arrow at the man and then the second one at the lady and they fall in love. Cupid then whispers softly to them that they have to protect their love and eventually spread amidst the people who are caught in claws of hatred!!! “

Anybody can answer this? The professor cleared his throat only to scream again….. Anyone? I knew what he was asking for, what he expects as an answer but I chose not to raise a voice or my hand. Saturday afternoon cradling in the soft breezes which sneaked in through the window, accompanied by the euphoria of the new blossoms touched by their aroma, swept through the aisle between the desks and finally hit me on my face. It was the best season of the year, spring, and I was stuck in the monotonous loop of lectures. No one knows? The professor deeply craved for an answer now. But I did not raise my arm.

     Why be the first one to be telling, first one to raise a voice even if I am capable of? I drew back on my bench among the little whispers.

                100 decades back when the human race was on a merge of being a better civilization, a better society which encompassed the mark of beginning of kingship by what law was the first king chosen? I was struck by a random thought. The first one? Who would enjoy decades of dictatorship, years of royalty, and eras of unquestionable powers? Was it not someone who chose to be the first among the rest of equals………the equals who did not have the guts to raise a voice or be the first one? Over 60 eminent civilizations which have shaped the modern world came into existence only because someone from the mob decided to be the first one to start, the first to raise a thought…….Yes… indeed the first one!!

                                 I chuckled at my thoughts and raised my hand. Sir I do!!!!!  

“Filthy! Do you even read your work?? What gives the clue that you could be a writer?? “, the publisher threw the paper on my face as he chewed on a few more beetle nut bits.” Next time if you go to a publisher, make sure you have read your filth first”. Filthy work? He calls my work filthy!! “If people like him were to publish works, Shakespeare would have never dared writing one”, I thought to self while picking up the papers. “Get out!” he screamed again. I slithered out of his cabin, dodged his employee who was haunted by his deadlines, missed his mail boy by inches who rushed in like a marathon winner, glided down his 58 steps to reach the ground, muttering to self, “Is my work really filthy?, why don’t they get the zeal of it?”. A flash of light followed by a honk of a car horn made me realize that I was on the road already. Four lane wide road divided by a pair of street lights, nothing brighter than the road itself with a fleet of over powered lifeless metal bodies carrying even lifeless human beings from their offices, screaming their presence in the lot!! It was dark and I tried to smuggle myself to the other side of the road amidst the ragging flash lights. Hard! Every time I moved an inch a gang of them rushed to throw me off the road. I slithered first and rushed through the rest. Relieved!! Alive!! Cursing the lot.

       Wet green grass, lavender flowers in the company of sleepy trees, cradling branches in the lullabies of the fragrant breeze followed by a rhythm of songs by toads and hoppers….Can a place be so placid amidst the chaotic human lives??, I chose not to  answer that but settled myself on the sloppy meadows near the lavenders, still thinking,” filthy! 72 publishers by now and all they have to say is filthy? Is there anyone who would want to read my work!! “I chuckled sarcastically. I smuggled the papers out of my bag and gander at them, but chose not to read them now. 432 times I have already read my work and I still didn't find it filthy. I breathed deep. Slipping the papers back into the bag I gazed up!!Dark blue cover with diamonds sparkling like they were embroidered by a connoisseur of art. Beautiful! I whispered to self. 1…2…3… that makes the Orion’s belt, I figured out Sagittarius too! I had already started counting the star,” 88 constellations and I managed to spot a few of them!” The article on “universe and stars” that accidentally reached my desk two weeks back declared that we have around 176 billion galaxies, each having a god damn 100 million stars!! Whoa! 100 million stars and 176 billion galaxies, that’s a huge number, I chuckled at the fact thinking that if even 0.1% of the 100 million stars in every galaxy had a solar system like ours, then there would be 10 million solar systems. 10 million! I screamed only to realize that there were none listening. 10 million earths, 10 million trillion people! Gosh, I don’t even know so many numbers, I stood amazed by the counts…..its huge!! And in this 10 million trillion people there would be a bunch of them who would not consider my work filthy!! A bunch at least! Yes…. A bunch at least, I whispered to self, chuckled and smuggled a piece of paper out of my bag. The next publisher's address…the 73^rd one! Out of the millions to come just the 73^rd one. 

(thanks for reading.... hope to see you around. please comment if you liked it and click on the g+ icon to share it :)  )

Paper boats, are you crazy? We are no more kids! Move now……. But I stood at the stream wearing my office suit  holding the half folded paper, creased on the side, torn from the book…..the book which fell off my working desk by the thrust of the last tear!! Hurt? Can lifeless things be hurt, no…yes…..don’t know!!! That book was the records of my thoughts, my emotions and my secret keeper!! Did I hurt the one which has managed to pile up so many emotions…. I guess!!

         Wind screamed, thunder rumbled and I snapped out of my thoughts, the half folded paper still in my hands, wet on corners by the drizzle… let’s go! A voice screamed again but I stood there having an astonishing vision in the waters….surprised!! Yes …surprised!! I saw a kid of age 7, the same innocence, and the same desire to explore, sparkling in the eyes holding the paper boat…. A drop from the leaf overhead fell in the waters and in the ripples I lost the vision!!

Wait!!! Age 7, how? It was me in the waters? Could I be a kid again, can I have my innocence back?

Hey! Are you coming?.... I heard the voice again but choose to ignore it and searched for myself! I lost myself as the water got blurrier by the ripple…. A voice now whispered in my mind…. Yes you can be a kid again!! Yes you can!! Pacific now I  stared back at the stream, holding the half folded, creased, torn, wet paper…yes…..my half built paper boat !! A tire screeched on the road side…..breeze shook the branches mildly and   I slipped the paper into my pockets and walked to my office… slow as I didn't want to rush through this ,still dreaming of the vision…I reached my desk!! Picked up my book which lied in solace on the floor proving its lifelessness!! Another memory…. Another thought….. I chuckled and slipped the paper in the book along with the other half built paper boats…. Yes….37 paper boats…. 37 times of childhood…37 times of peace!! 38 now…. And the count doesn't stop here…. Many paper boats to come from my book of emotions to make me a kid again…..yes billions may be!!