Candid

  A Bucket Full of Clouds A bucket full of clouds pours over the mountains, bringing delight to thirsty eyes, with overflowing fountains. A meandering river flows, carrying silt of stress, combed through a web of expectations and desires. Blessed are those who drench their worries in running waters, eager to be washed away in the sea. Cursed are those who hold their burdens, like stagnant puddles that fester in silence. Festivities and gatherings rise like a canopy of umbrellas , shielding hearts from the downpour of disintegration. Memories of sailing paper boats , flickering moments of time— urge us to absorb the nature, for it believes in today and no investment in future.

Colours, colours and colours are never real, Bright and shiny colours are surreal, bounded by only dreams. True colours are visible only in testing times. Fake colours erode, leaving behind dullness and gloom. Floating colours never drown but jump ship full of opportunities. Ultimately, in the battle of perception , no colour has any face value. What is blue to me is black to others. Purple never exists but everyone is passionate about it. Yet, the cornea is fascinated by colours and rainbows . Every event and mood in human life is associated with colours. Yet, the water, the elixir of life , is colourless—brought down by dark clouds .

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.