This is a poem about how we have been feeding the fire with lies about this world. Soon, it is going to stop burning, and be extinguished by lies. Only truth can help it kindle and spread its brightness and guidance.
FEED THE FIRE
How long did you feed the fire for How long did you ruin a masterpiece for With words that you speak That are quite bleak For the fire has lost its sparkle That kept it sane, kept it tame For it threatens to leave me It threatens to reveal blame
Fire, I will feed you wood Fire, I will keep your manhood Alive forever and ever With lies never Don’t fickle out, trickle out From safety, from sanity Don’t threaten to leave me Don’t follow curiosity
The mind wanders beyond its limits The mind puts together lost, broken bits And you should do too You should forgive too For a lie, does die And a lie will fly and fade But regret stays in the heart And ruins its art
So do promise eager humanity to keep raging So do promise eager humanity to keep burning For the sake of fire The sake of a truth choir Called life, we will strive To keep this deep promise To only spout out truth or else We will burn and nothing else.
We are constantly in search for answers. We search everywhere. We get an answer sometimes, we don’t sometimes. And we give up. We never want to go the extra mile to get the answer, for there is Google and Yahoo.
Today, we are slowly losing touch with ourselves. We give up too easily for we are dependent on other sources. We have forgotten what it is to learn, for we are taught. We are explained over and over again by sources. We are given answers by sources. And in that way we are limited by sources.
But we love these sources. We don’t have time for an art, for poetry, music, dance, for the basic traditions that made up life. And these traditions, these arts are eventually what keep you thinking. What inspire you. What help you find answers.
We think we are too sophisticated to do this. But we are not. We need something to do be calm and to dig deeper. We have to find our own answers and be confident about ourselves. We need to understand that everyone has different answers and that you cannot find your answer on someone else’s sheet.
We are all unique in our own way and so are our answers. Our answers answer the same question, but in different ways. Just like a math problem can be solved in multiple ways, life can be solved in many ways. We just need to find the right formula to use.
I am looking outside the window Feeling the dusty breeze Looking at the never ending road That goes on and on That leads to the sea
I’ve tried to travel along it But I always lose myself I am always attracted by something Coming in my way Distracted by a distraction
I can never stay on my path I always stumble away And everyone does The breeze too changes direction And never reaches its destination
Everything leaves a path To walk another one Everyone leaves one plan For another that may seem greater Sometimes, fire leaves for water
Reasons vary from soul to soul But motive remains the same For walking along the same road Leads to monotony Leads to boredom
And soon life is that Soon life becomes a task To wake up to a sky with the same colors To a world with the same problems To a universe with the same fate
So why should I look out of the window To a world that might not change in my lifetime To a world with no straight roads To a world with no answers Must I look forward to another road, or not?
This is a story about four boys who share a dormitory at their college in Mumbai. They soon become as close as brothers and regard the other as family. This story is mainly about their bond and their friendship, how they help each other out and are always there for one another.
BROTHERHOOD
Rahul was on his way to meet the three people with which he would be sharing a dormitory with. He would also be moving in with them that day. He was very tensed for these people would be his people for life – so he thought. So he was off, vowing to never forget the other people in his life as well as make room for more.
Josh wore his helmet and swung his leg over his scooter. He wore his shades and drove towards his to-be college dormitory – in full swag. He was going to own that year, he thought. He was excited to write a new chapter in life, and meet new friends. Of course, this would be different from Calcutta, but hopefully not that much…
Sunil’s family had clung on to him and cried till he insisted he leave. Then, they had performed a ritual to his good luck, peace and prosperity. He left remembering their good wishes and love. The train it was again. He had taken a train to his elementary school. Here he was taking a train to his new college mates. May God be with him.
Kiran was headed towards a dormitory on S.V. Road. He was nervous and to calm himself, had learned his physics textbook by heart in the taxi. Before going, he had a big choice to make. Whether to wear or not wear his spectacles. Yes, people were judged by their fashion he had said on his YouTube channel. But a good way to steer away from people’s thoughts is to study and study and study. He was lucky his family supported him..
The four finally met at their dormitory – 101 Seashore. At first it was extremely awkward, but soon the foursome was laughing and having fun.
Rahul, Josh, Sunil and Kiran were in it for three years. Physics and friendship was hopefully a good combination.
They were quite a match. All balancing each other. Taking care of each other. Rahul made breakfast every morning. Josh helped Sunil with dinner. Kiran clarified everyone’s doubts and made them understand tough concepts. Josh convinced them to go for walks in the mornings to freshen up. In this way the four became thick as thieves – unseparable.
The exams were nearing and everyone was on the edge. They were revising their chapters for the last time when Sunil’s phone rang. Everyone groaned but looked up. Sunil apologized fior disturbing and quickly picked up.
It was his grandmother. She was telling him something about his mother. As he was listening to her, the colour drained out of Sunil’s face and he gasped. The three glanced up and by his expression knew something was wrong…
Apparently Sunil’s mother was down with high fever and had been rushed to the hospital.
This put the room into a surely charged panic. Everyone consoled, comforted and sympathized. They promised Sunil that his mother would get well soon. The fever would cool down in a few days they assured him.
The four forced themselves to sleep, cajoling themselves with false promises. It was the only way to sleep.
They woke up and Sunil immediately called his Amma, his grandmother. His companions waited with bated breath. She replied that his mother still had fever but he must not worry. He must give his exam first. Studies first. Sunil’s eyes welled up but he had to remain strong. He could go visit his mum after his exam maybe. And she would become better.
They got through the exam and rushed to the hospital.
Sunil’s mum was there lying on the bed, looking as frail as ever. She grinned slightly at Sunil, who was trying hard to not cry. His family was sitting around her, waiting for the doctor to enter. The four greeted Sunil’s family and shook hands. But the handshakes were not firm, they were weak.
Doctor Saheb said that she would be fine within a few days, but something could happen, something could trigger her body and something could become worse. He was making no promises.
Everybody struggled through the next 48 hours.
Every ounce of everyone’s concentration was focused on prayer. If Aunty’s fever would not cool down, the family would lose yet another member after their grandfather. Also, she was young. She deserved more time. Such a good soul could not leave so quickly. Everyone sent up prayers to different faiths, Gods, Goddesses. But everyone meant the same.
And God must have heard the prayers for he granted them .
She was fine, so was everyone else. The four boys were overcome with joy. The family was relieved. The dormitory was peaceful. For prayers were answered.
Josh did not sleep that night. He lay up thinking. He thought how wonderful it would be to have so many people who cared about your life. How wonderful was it that someone always has your back. How wonderful was it that there is good in everyone. How wonderful it is that God listens to our prayers.
So he sent up a prayer, that was listened to. And he focused on faith, on belief. He put away his swag, his coolness and embraced his inner self.
May peace and prosperity, happiness and luck find its way to every soul!
This is a poem about a dog who is being beaten into discipline. He is miserable and failing his master. His back is numb with the weight he is made to pull. His breath is ragged for his thin self can’t run that much. He is just wanting to give up, but he doesn’t.
This is a story about belief. About how childhood can never leave us. And about how some of us deliberately leave childhood, but some cling on to stories that were told.
CHILDHOOD NEVER FADES
The report was almost over, Mark told himself. And yes, it was almost midnight. But Saturdays were a lot of paperwork, and nothing could change that. Except, maybe… Santa?
So he grabbed a paper and a pen and wrote down a letter to Mr. Claus. Any other thirty-year old man would call this ridiculous. But Mark was Mark. Everything was reality. Even imagination. That was the beauty of life, he told everybody.
But his co workers never saw this. Everything that could be seen was real. The rest was wild imagination – a disease. They believed that Mark was still a five year old waiting for applause on the inside. His body must have have magically grown. Except for his brains – obviously.
Mark ignored them and their chatter. He was someone he liked and recognized and related to. Too bad they thought something else.
His boss, too started to dislike him. Apparently his absence of mind seemed to annoy him. His weird suggestions and relations vexed the crew. They never saw the constant smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. No, all they saw was negativity.
And there came a reason for Mark to get himself fired.
He walked home with a broken heart getting mended. He went to his garden and started talking to his plants and trees and his flowers. He spoke to them about how the fairies would take care of everything. They always had.
He spoke about the elves in the North Pole, who were making gifts for them. He told them about the acceptance letter he had got from a publisher. And he forgot about what everyone else thought about him. He had faith in himself and that was enough. Nothing else was needed.
The demons could never get to him. He always wore a smile. He always wore life. He walked with his head held high, unafraid of all problems he met in life. No, problems was not a word he said. Problems are simply triumphs which have fallen sick.
It is up to one whether to cure a triumph or let it infect you, he said.
Since we are have birthed, we are constantly giving and being given. We appreciate things given to us. We have been gifted life and love which is the most we can ask for. We bring joy and happiness, which too is quite of value.
Sometimes we give more than we have ever been given. And that can change someone’s life. Sometimes we hesitate before wrapping a present but when unwrapped, happiness too is unwrapped. Sometimes we go to no ends to get someone a perfect gift when we realise that the gift doesn’t matter. The love it brings does.
Whenever we open a gift, we feel this surge of happiness. For we know that someone in this world cares for us. Someone is always looking out for us. Someone is always loving us. And no matter how big the gift is or how small it is, it is loved all the same.
Gifts differ from person to person. Personality to personality. Character to character. Emotion to emotion. The giver feels and so does the receiver. The giver is proud to have brought a smile into life. The receiver is grateful to have someone who can make him smile.
Milomi's world 