Sorrows

(again written in my 8th...the second i ever wrote in my life:))

Sorrows

Sorrows exist everywhere, everyday,

all over this pitiful earth.

Sorrows exist in silence

Sorrows exist in mirth

Sorrows exist in the sight of other people.

Sorrows of an un-gettable,

Sorrows of the unforgettable.

Sorrows that lie in the midst of

Every dream.

Sorrows in love,

Sorrows in war,

Sorrows in every up and down of life.

Sorrows we can’t get over,

Sorrows which don’t pass by,

Sorrows which are permanent

Sorrows which don’t die.

Sorrows lie in darkness,

Sorrows are a lack of light.

Sorrows kindled by devils,

Sorrows that leave you in a plight.

Get rid of darkness

Get rid of devils

Get rid of madness

Get rid of riddles

Think sense and wipe away those tears,

Frowns and downs are dull browns,

Life has much more to offer,

I the sea of sorrows, don’t drown.

( i sure am glad my style has evolved)

Rain

Rain

(written in 5/11/01...my eight...will follow more writens that reflect what i used to write like)

Lying in the meadow full of colourful flowers,

I watch the angels flow by…

Big and small, fluffy and white, telling

the story of a child.

When suddenly, there appeared a huge black cloud

And drizzle droplets fell, lightly, gently on me.

The first rains of the year had begun,

The heat disappeared and the air smelt fresh.

Fresh with the fragrance of everything that surrounded me.

The smell of the bark of all the trees

And all the types of flowers there could be

Coincided in the moist air making it

Heavy with the heaven.

A cool breeze so tender so mild

All of the sudden it turned wild

Ferocious, yet pleasant, it rushed past my face,

Running like a cheetah in the animal race.

The drizzle droplets turned into strong

Heavy wet drops,

And each like a balloon crashed with

Sounding pops.

The joy of my heart knew no bounds,

I got up and joined the flowers

In their rain dance.

I became a part of the wind,

Running around, freely, effortlessly,

I became wild with nature,

So unconsciously.

When its dry, hot and everything

In life is down,

I close my eyes, my spirits rise,

To think of the rain which washes away frowns.

Help!

(dedicated to Jazz)

Help me ! I hate this place.

I really hate it. I find no peace.

I wan to run. Far…right into

Your classes where I learnt something.

Fists clenched, frown, teeth gritted,

I didn’t ask for this. At all.

I would bang the table- shoot

some (excuses of) humans

down and

Scream!!!!

I would strangle (an excuse of) a teacher

who repeats too much and

smiles sarcastically.

Evil distorted faces growl and

Sneer at me.

Dark grey black with goosebumps

Green- gooey with radioactivity.

Help me -! Help!

Windows

Windows can be seen as our outlooks to the world. There are times when one’s window shrinks to the size of a peephole, moments of fear or hatred. But in moments of illumination, the window is the highest one in a skyscraper with walls of glass, a panaromic view on life. These rare moments are when one feels big, and full of life and love. (One could say then, in these terms, enlightenment would be the state when windows and walls alike all break open and one is lifted to the clouds.)

The size sometimes changes according to one’s mood and circumstances but for most people, the general structure is consistent. And our up bringing, and perhaps genes, play important roles in determining this. What is our family like? Were we brought up in fear of certain people and things? Were we let out to play enough or trapped inside to cram up for an exam? Were we allowed to question anything and everything and speak our minds, or threatened into blind obedience? How much of TV did we watch and from what stage in life? What kind of exposure and education did we get? All determine our approach to the world.

My own window would be a large square one, framed in strong, brown wood uninterruptedly crossing into a plus to divide it into four equal quarters. It’s a pretty simple outlook, bright, open and optimistic. And it gives more focus to the outside world than its own structure. But the square does symbolize the edge of rigidity that I come with. I tend to be mentally organized and systematically analytical. I don’t compromise on certain principles and I’m pretty hard to convince when it comes to many attributes of my fundamental attitude. The wood is impeccably smooth but not varnished or treated artificially to give it ‘a finish’. I don’t like dishonesty in any form. Perhaps I am crude and unconforming to the rules of the majority.

I don’t have glass in the frame or curtains to block things out with, only the plus-frame. It’s only a delight to have such a big open window if the world one sees through it is for the most part, intriguing and wonderful. I have been quite sheltered so my window offers little defense from the illogical cruelty and insensitivity of the world. I’ve been thinking of getting some drapes to give me the option of shutting out the world but perhaps it’s safer to go with the trends these days and attach heavily tinted glass, build thick metal grills and put up occluding blinds.

Idealism Knocked Down

Channel the feelings into art and in that preoccupation, the feelings are absorbed with more easily; like a flood, which suddenly found the porous route to the storm drains.

Disillusionment. Why does it hurt?

As we grow up, we are taught ideals, values and morals by which we should approach this world. But, sooner or later, approaching real adulthood, we children realize that the world doesn’t work according to these values. We are the only ones who still believe in and live by them. When we realize and choose to give up hope, we become a true adult. Who says life is pleasant? Who says adulthood is fun or anything we imagined it to be?

Each time (it takes more than once to ‘grow’) the non-logic of peoples minds translates into an action that affects us, it stings. But we are quickly lulled back into a general optimism. Why are we brought up that way? Why not simply teach us the truth from the start?

I went to a funeral today. The death was caused by lack of communication and misunderstanding, perhaps, of objectives and method/focus of working. But why play the blame game? What purpose does it serve?

The first time I entered to office, I expressed my awe, “Wow, I cant believe I’m actually in --- office!” What did I think then. And what do I know now.

Beware, all idealists and hopeful youngsters out there. There’s so much of what you believe in which is not true. I don’t ask you to lose faith and become cynics. Nor do I advocate total optimism. Just be braced with strength to face these things when they hit you.

What I felt in the office during the announcement was not only my pain but the whole groups’. It was the pain of helplessness and anger about not being understood.

But why talk when there’s nothing to discuss? Why argue when no ones listening? Why fight when there was not to be battle in the first place? Why bother…in the end?

The organization may see us as a tool that they can discard or disown, but the disbanding, in the true sense of the word, can’t be done by them. We’ll go on now without the support that we never really had.

What’s to hurt in this? The funeral was of the relationship, which wasn’t all hale and healthy anyway, and also of the idealism some of us carried about the world. I saw one of us break into tears over this death. While another commented on the freedom we now have.

That’s a perspective! Is death the end or liberation?