Candid

A contemplative poem on life journey. Essence of life lies in moving on — from stages of attachment to detachment , desires to nothingness , compulsion to repulsion , selfishness to generosity , darkness to enlightenment , fakeness to authenticity , certainty to uncertainty , vocal to silence — and sometimes, just being an observer and not being judgemental.

  The symphony of food within the body gives birth to good health. Yet the tongue refuses to twist toward the wholesome — it favors flavors that cause cacophony inside . It disobeys good advice, even when the brain speaks with reason. The symphony of languages in communication builds a healthy society . If tongues agree, there’s no war or hatred — only peace . But here again, some tongues disagree, choosing war over dialogue. The tongue resists new words and foreign tones. Too lazy to learn, it asks the brain to decode machine languages — lifeless, voiceless and silent. The symphony of values shapes idealistic individuals . But the tongue spits venom, not virtue , preferring foul language and fleeting pleasure . It excuses itself, claiming: "I was compelled to speak this way." The tongue twists rules, and stays silent at wrong times — a master of mischief in the mouth of many .  

  Add me to the group — I want to stay connected with virtually everyone. Aware of the latest trends and slang — let me in. Ancient to modern, and also the contemporary, I want to be with every genre and group. Admit me, and give me access to universal recognition — of the real-time and technology that changes with my every blink. Always an asset to the group, I shall never revolt. An atmosphere of continuous happenings baffles me — a mini-universe in its kind, functioning on flexible rules and stardom, attracting attention from strangers to respond and justify ethical choices. Amidst noise and chaos, if ever it arises from their views, then I will exit from the group. After a brief pause, I will join another group — where stars twinkle bright. AI , I am at the door — let me in.

  Perpetual Desires Desires are perpetual in nature, ranging in size from quantum to enormous. They beget passion, power , control , strength, money , and love . Desires turn naïve souls into monsters, never satisfied, always craving more. Perhaps the elixir of life on Earth is desire itself —undeniable, unrelenting. A life devoid of desire makes the very act of existence questionable. Unfulfilled desires leave their owner desire-deficit , yet he borrows new inspirations to nurture new desires. Just as economic transactions keep an economy alive, it is desire that keeps humankind dreaming, moving — reaching and becoming. Believe it or not, even the greatest hermit desires to find the divine . Desire to be read and appreciated — a poem's subtle longing also belongs to the poet's perpetual desires .

A poetic reflection on leadership, chaos and hope. The Pristein Ring Master   People gathered to witness the world’s oldest circus. At first, performers like fire breathers and jugglers brought delight, Aerialists — trapeze artists and acrobats — amazed the little ones with their flights. But soon, the strongman gave a stern look to the tightrope walker . The magician tried to douse the fire breather’s flame. The clowns — once beloved — entered the ring, And played the worst trumpet known to fame. Their friendly tussle turned too real, Peace, to them, was an unfunny deal. As with world leaders who, too, reject stillness, Addicted to noise, chaos, and the ringing of cash registers. Amid the uproar, the absence of the Ring Master was deeply felt. A cry rose from the crowd — where was he? Behind the dark curtains, a shadow stirred, And from it emerged the Ring Master, finally. With a whip crack and silent grace, Even the furious clowns froze in place. Normalcy returned, laughter r...