Friday, 27 December 2013

View From Above

Sliding down the milky way as the harvest moon lights the way
This starts my journey through the galaxy
My first stop, Gould's Belt, at 20 degrees.
It was Orion I first met there, with sword in hand without a fear
While Scorpio and Carina sat at the atmospheric shore
Discussing their next voyage, one I wanted to explore
I mentioned I was on a quest to see what the Universe holds
When Carina looked at Scorpio and said, It needs to be shown.
At first I wondered what he meant, for it made no sense to me
But then Carina turned and said, Would you like to join me at sea?
Upon the ship of Argo with Vela as the sail
Carina keeled through the quake cut by Cetus the giant whale
When far off in the distance and much to my surprise
Was Delphinus the Dolphin signaling everything was alright
I pulled out my compass and noticed an awful flaw
When Carina said there is no East or West, my friend,
We go by Kepler's Law
So with each planetary motion
My light show soon began, with Jupiter, then Saturn
With rings of glistening bands
All the planets took their turn in showing off their luster
When all of a sudden, off to the side, particles started to cluster
Hues of greens, yellows, reds, and blues all began to mingle
Creating such a magnificent site my skin started to tingle
This is a nebula, said Carina This is the core.
This is the birthplace of the planets galore
Each planet started with just one spark, searing in it's colors
The nebula makes each color their own all different then the others.
But what about that planet there? I said with a defying glare,
That planets colors are all dim and black
With ugly fumes of soot and ash.
Carina suddenly lost her braggadocios tone
And with sadness in her eyes
She said, That is what you call home.
At one time it was I, Carina, that would sit throughout the night
With hopes that I may catch one glimpse of your planet's awesome site
Your blues, which you call oceans, the greens, which you call grass,
the pinks and yellows of your skies sparkled like effervescent glass
The music that filled the air lulled us to sleep from birds I hear
What are birds? I do not know, other then
Colorful creatures with musical souls
Then gradually your planet started to dim
A thick black dust choked life from within.
No longer do we hear the songbirds sing
What a horrible lost, What a horrible thing
No longer do the song birds sing
No longer do the song birds sing

Thursday, 5 December 2013

Unconditional Love

Happy birthday, my mother and friend,
 Since I was a child, you would always defend.
 Your love has always, been unconditional,
 Even when, my moods were transitional.
 I cannot forget, all the things you have done,
 Through actions and words, my esteem you have won.
 You taught me to live, with courage and passion,
 With the less fortunate, I learned your compassion.
 Today is your birthday, I hope you dance,
 This celebration, I’m sure you’ll enhance.
 From the depths of my heart, I just want to say,
 You are my mother, and my love I display.

Sunday, 1 December 2013

Countdown To Extinction

Endangered species, caged in fright, 
Shot in cold blood, no chance to fight. 
The stage is set, now pay the price. 
An ego boost, don't think twice. 
Technology, the battle's unfair, 
You pull the hammer without a care. 
Squeeze the trigger that makes you Man, 
Pseudo-safari, the hunt is canned... 
Tell the truth, you wouldn't dare. 
The skin and trophy, oh so rare. 
Silence speaks louder than words. 
Ignore the guilt, and take your turn. 
Liars anagram is "lairs," 
Man you were never even there. 
Killed a few feet from the cages, 
Point blank, you're so courageous... 
All are gone, all but one. 
No contest, nowhere to run. 
No more left, only one. 
This is it, this is the Countdown to Extinction. 

Sunday, 17 November 2013

Welcome Home

Welcome to where time stands still
 No one leaves and no one will
 Moon is full, never seems to change
 Just labelled mentally deranged
 Dream the same thing every night
 I see our freedom in my sight
 No locked doors, no windows barred
 No things to make my brain seem scarred
 Sleep my friend and you will see
 The dream is my reality
 They keep me locked up in this cage
 Can't they see it's why my brain says rage
 Build my fear of what's out there
 Can I breathe the open air
 Whisper things into my brain
 Assuring me that I'm insane
 They think our heads are in their hands
 But violent use brings violent plans
 Keep him tied, it makes him well
 He's getting better, can't you tell?
 No more can they keep us in
 Listen, damn it, we will win
 They see it right, they see it well
 But they think this saves us from our hell..

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

I'm Eighteen

Lines form on my face and hands lines form from the ups and downs I'm in the middle without any plans I'm a boy and I'm a man
 I'm eighteen and I don't know what I want eighteen I just don't know what I want
 Eighteen I gotta get away I gotta get out of this place I'll go running in outer space..
 I got a baby's brain and an old man's heart took eighteen years to get this far
Don't always know what I'm talking about feels like I'm living in the middle of doubt
 'cause I'm eighteen I get confused every day eighteen I just don't know what to say eighteen I gotta get away

Friday, 19 July 2013

To Muse, With Love

Being a kid, always on the move,
Might be as troublesome as it seems.
One does meet people, makes new friends,
But there would be one,
Who just stands out from the rest.
Coming to this city, from the one I loved,
It was something I was unprepared for,
Yet friends came through thick and thin, and things seemed to be alright again.
But it still felt dry, it was dull,
Something still was just not right.
Then you come along, with a spirit that lifts the foulest moods,
The one with revolutionary ideas and big goals,
With the determination to make it count.
A person so different than me,
Who seemed to live in a world of her own, far away from reality.
When we talked, it was mostly just arguments,
Be it music, politics or even places to visit..
But there among all the differences, was the one thing we could share.
The same passion for writing, the same love for the pen.
And it was this which brought us together,
A bond we will share forever.
I wrote for you, you said it sucked (:P)
It was then that I realized,
I had finally found my muse.
Then came the sad part, separating from you.
It was all back to square one again, to start all over again,
But through the darkness, came one shining ray of light,
The inspiration you left behind for me, became my way out.
And now that we are back to being best friends again,
Things are as bright as ever,
And as I put down this rhyme, I must let you know.
Through every word, I’m thinking about you.
You inspired me then and you inspire me now,
You give me the push that I can be better.
But for now, I just want to thank you,

My Muse J

Thursday, 27 June 2013

Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

This is one of my all time favorite poems. The one here is the song version of the same, written by Steve Harris of Iron Maiden for their 1984 album, POWERSLAVE. In my opinion this song is a fitting tribute to one of the finest pieces of literature. Aptly supported by the powerful guitars Maiden has been famous for, the galloping bass and the thundering drums, combined with the powerful, operatic voice of Bruce Dickinson, this is a must hear song for everyone.

Hear the rime of the ancient mariner,
See his eye as he stops one of three 
Mesmerises one of the wedding guests 
Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea. 

And the music plays on, as the bride passes by 
Caught by his spell and the mariner tells his tale. 

Driven south to the land of the snow and ice 
To a place where nobody's been 
Through the snow fog flies on the albatross 
Hailed in god's name, hoping good luck it brings. 

And the ship sails on, back to the north 
Through the fog and ice and the albatross follows on. 

The mariner kills the bird of good omen 
His shipmates cry against what he's done 
But when the fog clears, they justify him 
And make themselves a part of the crime. 

Sailing on and on and north across the sea 
Sailing on and on and north 'til all is calm. 

The albatross begins with it's vengeance 
A terrible curse a thirst has begun 
His shipmates blame bad luck on the mariner 
About his neck, the dead bird is hung. 

And the curse goes on and on at sea 
And the curse goes on and on for them and me. 

'Day after day, day after day, 
we stuck nor breath nor motion 
As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean 
Water, water everywhere and 
all the boards did shrink 
Water, water everywhere nor any drop to drink.' 

There calls the mariner 
There comes a ship over the line 
But how can she sail with no wind in her sails and no tide. 

See... onward she comes 
Onward she nears out of the sun 
See, she has no crew 
She has no life, wait but here's two. 

Death and she life in death, 
They throw their dice for the crew 
She wins the mariner and he belongs to her now. 
Then... crew one by one 
They drop down dead, two hundred men 
She... she, life in death. 
She lets him live, her chosen one. 

'One after one by the star dogged moon, 
Too quick for groan or sigh 
Each turned his facce with a ghastly pang 
And cursed me with his eye 
Four times fifty living men 
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan) 
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, 
They dropped down one by one.' 

The curse it lives on in their eyes 
The mariner wished he'd die 
Along with the sea creatures 
But they lived on, so did he. 

And by the light of the moon 
He prays for their beauty not doom 
With heart he blesses them 
God's creatures all of them too. 

Then the spell starts to break 
The albatross falls from his neck 
Sinks down like lead into the sea 
Then down in falls comes the rain. 

Hear the groans of the long dead seamen 
See them stir and they start to rise 
Bodies lifted by good spirits 
None of them speak and they're lifelesss in their eyes 

And revenge is still sought, penance starts again 
Cast into a trance and the nightmare carries on. 

Now the curse is finally lifted 
And the mariner sights his home 
Spirits go fromhe long dead bodies 
Form their own light and the mariner's left alone. 

And then a boat came sailing towards him 
It was a joy he could not believe 
The pilot's boat, his son and the hermit, 
Penance of life will fall onto him. 

And the ship sinks like lead into the sea 
And the hermit shrieves the mariner of his sins. 

The mariner's bound to tell of his story 
To tell this tale wherever he goes 
To teach god's word by his own example 
That we must love all things that God made. 

And the wedding guest's a sad and wiser man 
And the tale goes on and on and on.

Saturday, 8 June 2013

What Makes A Dad

God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of the quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature,
The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle’s flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,
The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,
The depth of a family need,
Then god combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so,

He called it… Dad.

Happy birthday dad. :)

Monday, 3 June 2013

The Rise Of The Indian Phoenix

We are at the threshold of a mighty change. The whispering that has been there ever since the glorious day of 15th August, 1947 is now becoming a might roar.  Gone are the days where we used to suffer in silence. We are no longer meek, we are ready to fight fire with fire if necessary. Gone are the days when we used to obey without questioning and now that we have started questioning everything, we are at a fork, one which goes back to how things were before, and one where we the change we all desperately need. The future of the nation depends on us, the Gen X. We have the youth and the boundless energy within us, roaring to get in action. All we need is a beacon, to point us the right way and then sit back as you see the country becoming the mighty, unstoppable force it is. We are the future, we are the cells of the mighty, dormant Phoenix called India. A phoenix  because can rise up from the ashes, rise when all hope seems to be lost. 
The time for a change is upon us, all that remains is what we make of it. Do we rise up to it? Or do we just shrug it way? That's the choice we have to make.To quote the great Italian poet Dante Alighieri,
"The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis."
We all have our own dreams, our own visions about the future of the country. Some may be optimistic, some may not be so bright. An individual may not make a great change, but collectively we can move mountains. 
There is another quote I read in on the cover of a Classmate notebook:
"The world needs dreamers.
 The world needs doers.
 But most importantly, the world needs dreamers who do."
The future is what we make of it, so lets RISE UP and Touch the sky.

The Will To Win


If you want a thing bad enough
To go out and fight for it,
Work day and night for it,
Give up your time and your peace and
your sleep for it

If only desire of it
Makes you quite mad enough
Never to tire of it,
Makes you hold all other things tawdry
and cheap for it

If life seems all empty and useless without it
And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,

If gladly you'll sweat for it,
Fret for it, Plan for it,
Lose all your terror of God or man for it,

If you'll simply go after that thing that you want.
With all your capacity,
Strength and sagacity,
Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,

If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain
Of body or brain
Can turn you away from the thing that you want,

If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,
You'll get it!


Saturday, 4 May 2013

In Memoriam

Jefferey John Hanneman. It is not a name many would be familiar with, but those who do would know that he was the guitarist for the Thrash Metal band Slayer. Being a metalhead myself, I was bound to come across Slayer someday or the other, and when I did, I was completely blown away.
There is a reason why they are considered to be the legends of their respective genre. It is their intensity, aggression, and the passion that made the audience go wild. Among them was this man, Jeff Hanneman.
Slayer was, afterall, his band along with Kerry King. Coming from a family of war veterans, he was deeply intrigued by war and military history. It was this curiosity that led to the creation of Slayer's set piece songs like Raining Blood, South of Heaven, etc to name a few.
Other than that, he was a very talented guitarist, creating some beautiful riffs along with King, which I consider to be among the best. His awesome persona, his stage presence, everything made him what he was and will continue to be..A legend!
His sad demise obviously punched a big hole in the band, but also within the entire music community. I wish I had known the band for longer, but that wasn't to be so.
So with a heavy heart, I bid my guitar idol farewell and pray that his soul may rest in peace.
Goodbye Jeff, wherever you are, you may be gone, but you will never be forgotten.

Friday, 3 May 2013

The Ballad Of Painful Peace


Lived a man, not ages past;
Had one love – the sea…
But sadly when he breathed his last,
His beloved he couldn’t see…

The last of all that he beheld,
Was neither sea nor all;
All he saw was misery,
And all the trees were felled…

The rain came down in all around,
And yet the flames did spur…
Coaxed on and on to burn and burn,
Just fuelled on but incurred…

For the fates now rest and wait;
The soul can’t get the gate
And all the flames, devoured; tall
And menacing were they…

Irony! O Irony! Though hand is what I see!
That a man of all the sea
Must sleep on a bed of fire…

Irony! O Irony! Though hand is what I see!
No harmony, nor fondling,
No last touch of the seas

Lord above! O Lord above!
Cannot thou pity he –
He who loved the temptress blue,
The Daughter of Thy Power…

Wished to be interred by her,
His last wish too denied,
Rested he now on a bed,
Of coal and of fire….

Time alone is the last
Anomaly; Wait, see !
The rising ghost, the kindred spirit,
Like the smoke grey-white!

Hovers over the bed of coals,
Like the hissing soot…
And the spectre, rising, shot –
Over the heads into thee…

O Goddess-Change! O Queen of Rage!
This spectre is now you’re heir!
The melancholy whistling wind,
Now calls forth this avenger

Of his rage; and no less sage,
Avenged he did his all !
Now all see the hood – His rise!
The serpent now strikes its fangs!

All this for love and not of hate,
Succeeded at last, he did!
Now he rests in all his peace,
Knowingly or otherwise…

The price of this unsteady fall...
Rests he now innocently,
While guilt is on and on of all
Those who did rift the lovers…

But the thirst of his now quenched,
No revenge he desires,
All he wants is to sleep and lie
In those cooling waters….

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

The History Of A Nation

To my motherland,

Life seems to have answers
to everything.
People try to find answers
to their problems;
But the Answer is so clearly
etched in front of them...

When everyone wishes for a future
with assets that reflect -
-Reflect prospects with no liabilities,
they don't realize -
The Future Is Uncertain. 
Forever people have been slain
killed, and have attained martyrdom
for a land whose very ether and every grain of soil;
permeates the cores of their very beings...
They shed their blood like silt-laden rivers,
which made infertile and gullible minds
of peoples hitherto unknown to the world
become martyrs and radicals,
capable of thought, ideas and beliefs;
so inspiring,
it put to shame the so called 'High Breed' of humans...

Those ideas swept the sea of a nation,
like waves carried by wind's swift feet,
over miles forever unknown till judgement,
quenching the sun dried sands
in the minds of suppressed people;
Those people, who were figureheads of movements -
Movements and Struggles for The Greater Good;
Wherein all that was preordained before creation,
would trickle down to the weaker masses,
who would, inflamed and inspired,
burn down the very soul of oppression...

It is a matter of pride and sorrow,
That such souls passed their waves of fire,
of a passion latched to their hearts;
so that an entire generation & its descendants,
would cry out with joy and pride -
"They were the ones! Yes!
They were the ones! 
Who gave us what we have!"
And with sorrow remember, that they,
men that they were, and the women that had been,
were humans too, whose flesh and bone,
were interred willingly, yet without dignity,
into the soil of the Mother;
by oppressors and obscurantists,
who suppressed the desire and emotions
of a pool of souls enraged and saddened
at the plight of their children, their brothers,
their sisters and their parents,
The parents, who, wept over the victories of their offspring,
And their tears had shown pride trickling out of their eyes,
Onto their cheeks....
Which they willingly let flown down,
into the soil,
So that the soil would know,
that the children were doing all they could,
For her, the Motherland...

It was too long a struggle; and people,
mortals that we are,
grew wary, and knew they must haste,
before the coming of an era,
an era where destruction, which resembles a thousand suns,
could sweep away entire cities, leaving nothing in their path...
"Haste! Make Haste!" though they;
and thus spent sleepless nights;
For a decade or two...

And suddenly, the weight and tension;
tore apart the world stretched taut,
And madness urged forth, consuming All....
Every Land, Every Person, Every Soul....

When this period of apocalypse of humanity ended,
then, it was time, for the bird to hatch,
to break its shell and confront the world beyond...
Hence, when twice the sun the earth had outdone,
Then the bird took wing,
With the people of the land,
Hoping it would,
Soar above and along the wind,
Till the End of Time...

So now the people were free,
And the land was relieved;
And a Nation was Born....
With its people proclaiming to the world :

We are Free and Independent, now;
And forever we shall be...
Independent and Free, till the End of Eternity......

The bird had taken to the skies
And so a Nation was born

Epilogue

A nation of ideals, principles, and beliefs
Of conviction, love and determination to do-
To do what all else had,
and to outdo them all at their game...

But no matter how strong a foundation,
the building will always once tumble....
The wartorn and tired nation
now sees the end of its horizon;
Unless the seeds of the past
Shall once more, sprout and burst forth,
Enriching the Land with Life anew.....

Saturday, 6 April 2013

There Is No Peace


The night falls gentle upon the earth
but hard within the heart of a terror-filled child.
There is no peace this night
but a sentry-like awareness of
every noise, every movement
within the house.

A silent prayer is taken upon the wings
of the mourning dove
who waters the ground below with its tears
watching puddles form where each drop lands
forming a new ocean of sorrow.
There is no peace this night.

The tender child draws itself
into a tiny ball as if to disappear
... footsteps are heard in the hall
"please no" is whispered, "please go" is prayed
as the doorknob quietly turns.
There is no peace this night.

The dove soars higher, shaking sobs within its breast
penetrating clouds, gliding on wind
seeking its source
looking for the Light
knowing there will be no peace this night.

The shadow falls across
clenched fists, tousled curls,
drawn up limbs, eyes squeezed shut
against the scene about to unfold
scarcely breathing, knowing
there is no peace this night.

Feverishly winging toward
the rainbow of light and celestial destination,
the dove contracts and gasps with the pain
of its little charges' spirit
and delivers the message
To the being of Light & Beauty
who swoops down to grasp the hand of the child
and deliver its pain to another dimension
to be stored until the child is stronger
and able to face the reality of evil on the earth.

The angel cradles her charge,
gently rocking, while tears stream down her face...
mixing with the silent tears of the child.
The dove quietly sings its grievous song of mourning
for the lost innocence of this precious tot.
There is no peace this night.