Desperation

We live some of our lives, questioning, it's purpose, and when we don't find an answer, we create our own purpose and then live majority of our lives dwelling around that purpose. Every one wants to live, with so much desperation, and yet they can't answer why do they want to live so desperately. Sometimes, even when we know we are living a lie, we tend to believe it to be not false, so that we can move forward, but forward where? So that we can just keep breathing, but breathe so that one day we stop breathing? So many questions, and no reasonable answers, so we create answers of our own, and hence the poem, of our desperation.


The wind speaks,
Words not heard of,
The sounds creep,
With noise so oft,
Dirt unsettles,
So unsettle the trees,
Heart understands,
The song of the leaves,
A mystic's lullaby,
The mystic of earth,
Who stirth in lies,
Of death after birth,
Lest truth shall dawn,
To let go of this reality,
So he must pawn,
Truth over infidelity.

'Till next time!
;)

A Number, Not A Name

We live our lives with the labels given to us and with every passing second, these labels become less and less significant and now we stand only with a number, our names forgotten. Even if we die, then our number is replaced by another, that is how important all of us are. Just another statistical figure. Hence the following poem.



A number not a name,
That’s all I have become,
From birth till death,
A number not a name,
My identity,
My existence,
My reality,
My persistence,
All recognised by,
A number not a name,
Abstraction,
Less ambiguous,
Concrete,
Superfluous,
Yet derivation necessary,
From axioms of the extraordinary,
In the end I am,
A number not a name,
My appraisal,
My recognition,
A debacle,
In cognition,
My relations,
My preferences,
My elations,
My differences,
My love,
My heart,
My feelings,
A jump start,
But for that as well a cue,
After all I am,
A number not a name.

'Till next time!
;)

Death, An End? Or An Experience?

All of us need a purpose, without purpose life seems empty and pointless and so when we fail to find one, we create our own. Those who fail long for death, and those who succeed long for life. Of course a purpose can never be meaningless, but it can be futile. Meaningless in the sense that meaning is given to it so that one can continue to live. Futile in the sense, it reaps no apparent fruit but is capable only of stifling the urge or drive felt within for the time being hence making it rather shallow or maybe forever so that such an urge or drive is never felt and hence we might end up feeling that now we seemed to have lost our purpose to live because the satisfaction of accomplishing that futile purpose didn’t bring in the satisfaction that would make one feel that their life purpose has been fulfilled. Maybe because sometimes when we expect too much our emotions overwhelm us and thus we end up exhausting our emotions thinking about the final day and when the final day does come we feel disappointment or relief which are supposed to be inappropriate in such situations, disappointment because we didn’t feel what we expected and relief because we didn’t feel what we expected, so sort of hanging in the balance ending up feeling weird or confused and not knowing what exactly we are feeling.

So could death be the purpose of life? Death: the ultimate test of one’s ignorance and fear. In the lives that we live, we are afraid of almost anything and everything we don’t know, especially when, that which we don’t know, with the help of words, is turned into an awful experience, even though the experience wasn’t ours but another’s, our imagination takes us onto a wild ride of how the other person might have experienced it and come to the conclusion that it must be awful. All our lives we are conditioned to believe a number of things, including the knowledge (factual or ignorant is unknown but then again even so called facts are changed from time to time) that death is a bad experience and it must be avoided at all costs. Maybe we end up believing in this especially because of the pain we “believe” others feel during death but we overlook a number of things in the rush of our empathetic endeavour (maybe that’s where the word pathetic was derived and for good enough reason). Cancer is painful, mutilation of one’s body in an accident is painful, diarrhoea is painful, piles is painful, breaking a bone is painful, being hit in the head is painful, even the needle of an injection can be painful (you get the point), where as death is nothing more but a release from all of this pain.

We are made to celebrate our birth (becoming alive) in the form of birthdays maybe due to the fear that it’s not going to be an easy ride so we should rather have an optimistic outlook along with something to look forward to all the while living in ignorance of death which actually rids us from all the miseries that “being alive” had bestowed upon us and yet we continue to fear it. Maybe because it’s inevitable nature makes us feel afraid about the idea of having enough time to be prepared to face it, because let’s face it, we prefer preparing for something that is deemed as unpleasant so that we can reduce the unpleasantness from the experience to as much extent as possible.

'Till next time!
;)

Peace Of Mind Or Piece Of Mind?

Peace, a word which often has a universal understanding but the meaning has been varied even in the dictionary. Maybe because it’s understood that nothing can hold a universal meaning, as the object changes hands so does its individual description. The dictionary defines peace as “the normal, non-warring condition of a nation, group of nations, or the world; a state of mutual harmony between people or groups, especially in personal relations; public order and security; cessation of or freedom from any strife or dissension.”

Various individuals have various methods of trying to attain it, (trying isn’t the same as doing it now is it), of course these various methods are based on the individuals definition of peace so how can one justify themselves and their actions? Some say “the ends don’t justify the means” others say “the means don’t justify the ends”. Focusing more on discussions and contradictions rather than action, the first group of people sit in their houses posting statuses on social websites like “lets wear white and show our concern for peace”, others with a similar ideology go outside their house in groups with banners waving signs of peace and yelling out slogans eventually to be kicked away by the police for disturbing “public order”, one of the definitions of peace so technically going against the legal definition of peace and yet whining about attaining peace through non violent means. On the other hand those from the second group believe that such non violent means would take a long time to attain peace, rather it is required right here and now and the only way to do it is to show who is a greater bully. “A state of mutual harmony between people or groups” another definition of peace.

Some righteous soldiers believe that peace needs to be attained not by violence, the more impatient and aggressive soldiers believe violence is the only way to attain peace. By violence they believe that if they aggress to a certain extent, the dominion can be proven about superiority which would lead to submission, so it isn’t very complex and quite straight forward, more like a teacher bullying a kid and the kid eventually standing up to the teacher. On the other hand non violence leads to suffering on oneself with the hope that it may induce compassion into the hearts of the brutes but the question arises if there really was a degree of compassion within them would they be brutes in the first place? By inflicting suffering on oneself are we changing anything? The only difference being that earlier it was done by someone against our will and now we are willingly inflicting suffering, so maybe the goal of non violence is to rid the sadists from the pleasure of enjoying from inflicting pain and suffering.

Some words may sound beautiful, but what’s the point of beautiful words? Words just convey a message, a direction towards what is or what could be, but we direct our minds towards what could be rather than what is because we like to speculate, we like to imagine, we like to dream. Some may call this positive thinking, but is it really? Rather it wreaks of desperation, if we can’t see what is, rather let’s see what we can see, a desperate convenience. Because to think is too much work, to understand is too much work, to live is too much work. But survival yes, now that is important, if we don’t survive we can’t do anything but is survival restricted to mere continuance of one’s existence? Is that all life is about? To feed, shit and die? No it can’t be, but neither can we see anything further, so let us stop here and create a few beliefs which can be manipulated as such that they can become immortal. And hence we have peace, love, and many others. We just need to believe in some things, even if they are non-existent. Sort of like a cushion to place our heads on after it’s been punched by reality.

'Till next time!
;)

The Reality Of Narcissists

Individuals live their lives in search of something. May it be love, fame, power or mere recognition and acceptance. We toil and toil to achieve them and experience great deal of sadness if we fail. But do these things really mean anything? Our minds running amok towards illusions which we believe to be reality, forgetting to ask questions and ending up finding things which we believe to be answers and when we feel they are insufficient enough so we continue to look for more answers which we somehow believe will lead us to what we want not realising all this while that we can't find something that doesn't exist or rather should not exist, but our faith in our futile tries makes us believe that we can achieve what we want even if what we want isn't what we need and when we don't achieve it, we feel wronged. But is it really we who were wronged? Or are we doing wrong and thence the result? No matter what, humans tend to ignore their shortcomings even if they are made aware of them and blame it on anothers ignorance or indifference not even attempting to accept that there is another way, another choice. Maybe because of the fear that if they move from the current choice they are accepting that it was pointless, the efforts behind that choice were all pointless, and if the next choice turns out to be pointless as well will they ever be able to find a choice which would make them feel worth their while. But they still fail to understand that life is the while given to them for finding the worth. Is that why we created God? So that we could blame Him for our failures and continue with the current choice we made no matter how many times life tries to help us understand it was the wrong one? Our narcissism tends to get the best of us and then we ask, why has God created misery, when God is nothing more than our alter ego. Yes, we have created misery, and we are the only ones who can un-create it.

'Till next time!
;)

Yearn

The relationships that we create supposedly define us, but what are these relationships? Do they mean anything? And even if they do, then why do they mean as such? Maybe, they are mere cravings of our heart, which in itself is a fickle thing, as our heart wants so much, as our minds can't resist the tempations of the heart, they end up showing us what we want to see, and that is why an understanding is something our mind can't grasp and follows the heart wherever it may lead.

What have I become?
What had I been?
A stranger to someone,
An invisible stream,
Memories I hold,
But for purpose what?
For memories told,
Are no realities but, thoughts,
The words uttered,
Dissolve into thin air,
May they be muttered,
With the most audacious dare,
Everything passing,
Through a silhouette, decadent,
Mind abashing,
The purest remnant,
The hand stretches out,
For a warmth once known,
But minds doubt,
Stretches the throne,
Time is a healer,
True some say,
But ‘tis death’s dealer,
As every second brays,
Maybe this is life,
Maybe this is strange,
Maybe that is why,
We live deranged,
What had I been?
What have I become?
Maybe this is just a dream,
Dreamt in a fearful yearn.


'Till next time
;)

What Is Life?

We live our lives in illusions rather than realities, illusions which suit our liking. But our liking is restricted, not universal, even though that aspect seems as such at that point of time, when we experience satisfaction. But then again there is always more to it than what meets the eye, hence the following poem. An "ode" to life and its governing reality.



What is life?
Memories and emotions encompassed?
What is life?
A question to gawk at aghast?
Its essence, love?
Or a mere illusion?
Its existence a reality,
Or a clear delusion?
What is life?
Just a circumstance?
To alight,
On the misty banks?
Fog covered eyes,
Belittled as they may be,
Even if the vision dies,
Shouldn't the mind start to see?
What is life?
A mere creation?
Of a presumptuous night,
Or an accidental elation?
Of wrong and right?
But maybe the questions,
May not suffice,
To question the lessons,
Of what is life,
But if unanswered a question,
It begins to grow,
Until suffices a reason,
To think, to know,
So my mind keeps wandering,
On what is life?
Maybe, to watch the days go by?
Or to recognise the might,
Of insanity before you die?

'Till next time!
;)