I have heard of a place that’s not on maps
A place where there’s no room for lies
Where mornings and nights never make the kiss
Where every form of life is able, is wise
Where you’ll find only faces and never a mask
Where curiosity is never afraid to think and ask
Where the one true religion has always been love
Where the endless sky is always blue above
Where the birds never know the fatigue of flight
Where the nights stand dauntless in the stars’ light
Where no child is killed before even she’s born
Where no heart is broken and no skin torn
Where nobody knows the art of building a wall
Where there is always a hand when you fall
Where lilies dance with a newfound zest
Where crows and doves share the same nest
Where the river quenches the thirst of all
Where a horse runs free and is never in a stall
Where the moon’s always shy and the sun bright
Where you’ll never have to fight for what’s right
Where benevolence is, by all, considered divine
Where dreams and fears are separated by a line
Where every empty soul always gets fed
Where there’s always a smile after every tear’s shed
I have heard of this place, and of a train that runs
Through its heart; and I can hear the summons
And since it’s dark, my end drawing nigh
I would love to be there, and I would love to fly
Sometimes I wonder whether it all matters
The efforts, the suffering,
The hopeful eyes;
The prayers, the pleads
All asking for better deals
When all it takes for the privileged few
Is a flick of a finger or the click of a call.
Life is unfair they mercilessly say
Yes, ‘they’ are the ones who have it all
And the ones on the other side just wait and watch
Not all are silent though
Discontent brews through and through
Challenging situations and status quo
Organizing, agitating and questioning the power flow
Being the eternal pessimist that I am
I revert to my earlier question whether it matters at all
Structures and misgivings are so deeply entrenched
Easier it is may be, even mountains to be moved
Beyond social action, revolution, subaltern theories and all such paradigms
Lies a higher emotion which has been furthered by many a wise man
My humble attempt is to repeat it here
Not to copy, ‘plagiarize’ or claim authority mere
It is of love, love for humanity, love for each other
Look beyond social constructions which are but external
Do we recognize it, do we realize it… we are all of the same flesh
Are we willing then to keep aside our egos, our ‘positions?’
And come together by the virtue of our very being.
Rising Sun is shadow of truth,
Selfless devotion to humankind!
Human trapped in lust and mirth
With will enormous and path so blind.
With service, the Sun rises;
And serving sinks in ‘Ocean’.
Guns and cannons roar as their prizes
Of eternal walks to unfathomed ‘Horizon’.
After rain, selflessly he shines
Giving their carcasses some warmth;
Busy are their hands – drawing new lines
Of gloom, sorrows, death and the Holy wrath!
Eternal Sun rises, shines and sinks
With hope that tomorrow is someday new…
Immortal woe, mortal he,
His life is rendered melancholy!
He, a day, shall die
Leaving the world to try
To solve the mystery untouched,
The question neither questioned nor asked-
Life is melancholy; or melancholy is life?
To strife is human; or human is strife?