Difficult Times

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Abba, why do we wear a skull cap while we pray,
And why do we need to turn that way?
Why is that creature haraam?

And why do we fast during Ramadaan?

Abba, you asked me to pray 5 times a day,
Never to eat pork, smoke, drink and go astray.
You taught me to live and let live.
And that the only jihad to fight, was the one within me.
Did I not hold my promise to you?
Then why does Allah test me so much for doing so?

And why don't they get it?
Why do they call me a terrorist? A fanatic?
They, with their crosses, stars and sacred marks on the forehead
They, with or without faith,
Why do they call me a traitor? A liberal? A coward?
They, with skull caps like mine and guns and grenades

Why don't they get it that I just want to live and let live?

I can't please all of them.
I just want to be who I am.
To just live out the life that the one God gave me. 

It is so frustrating to live with so many labels. 

So hard when your faith is tested everyday, 

Would you blame me, my dear Abba,

If I strapped a bomb around my neck, and blew myself away? 

How to be a Rockstar

Get some pain .
Its all around you .
Feel it . Breath it .
Let it seep through your body .
Suffer . Be miserable .
In a state of mental anguish .
Wail , if you can .
Scream . Rant . Whine .
The monkey chatters too much ?
Then tug hard at the reins .
Smoke . Smoke up . Get drunk .
Fight the pain .
Fight it with all your might .
Then give up .
Try and live with it .
Pull out your hair .
Sob like a child .
Inhale . Snort . Inject .
Deject . And reject .
Fight some more .
Doesn't work ?
Re strategize .
Wallow in the misery of others .
At least, give it a try.
Learn to exploit .
To cheat . To connive .
To survive . To thrive .
Get some religion .
Or a new age vibe .
Talk to Him . Pray to Him .
Curse Him . Blame Him .
Then Seek forgiveness .
Slash your wrists .
Or think about it , at least .
Its unbearable, right ?
Then take a deep breath .
And as you exhale ,
See through the fine mist ,
Of bull shit and lies .
Do you hear the cacophony ?
Of hypocrites and fakers .
There could be an epiphany .
Or just a shallow surmise .
Do remember ,
That the pain won't go away, ever .
But now , when it gushes through ,
Realize . And channelize .

The Little Boy is dead

The Little Boy is dead
He died a slow and horrible death
Choked on his own tears
Gasping for freedom
Drowned in his fears
Craving for fun
He was forced to run
He ran, but got astray
Where to go? Which way?
The path he chose was his own
But it wouldn't get him there, they said

Grow up, they said, and run that way
Look at his shiny car, bright and red
And she bought a bungalow with 17 beds
Measure your worth, compared to theirs
Run, run faster, run harder
And find a good stead
Keep running, till there is no one in sight
Keep running, because there is no end
Keep running, till there is no one behind or ahead

But he couldn't live that way
So the Little Boy killed himself
He strangled himself with a noose
Made of dead and dried up dreams
But he wasn't buried or cremated
Now, his corpse runs the race instead

An ode to Life

Death is inevitable.

This journey will end.

Your body will breathe its last and wither,

But not your immortal spirit , never !

But you do die, in your lifetime.

Many a times. Many a deaths.

You die when you are weak.

You die when you are a coward.

You die when you doubt your self.

You die, slowly and painfully,

When you are inert and full of sloth,

Motionless, lifeless, afraid to go forth. 
When you say I can't, I can't, I can't !

But each such death must lead,

To a new life, 
A new beginning where,

Courage is Life! 
Strength is Life ! 
Self-belief is Life !

And you, bustling and brimming with energy,

Thundering ahead with the all the might your spirit can muster,

Are the embodiment of Life,

And in this lifetime,

Avow, to never ever give up, to never ever say die !

“Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.”  - Eleanor Roosevelt

“Stand up, be bold, be strong. Take the whole responsibility on your own shoulders, and know that you are the creator of your own destiny” – Swami Vivekananda

Dedicated to the Butterfly. I wait for it to spread its wings, and fly. 

Ghost of a Dead Belief

I Believed .
Those Beliefs are now swimming in front of my eyes.
Dripping in blood.
Their heads hacked off.
For a while I thought it was over.
And off I went, to cremate my dead belief.
There were others there too.
Like me and unlike me.
Friends and foes.
They are burning, faces in fire,
Melting, losing shape,
Consumed, but not purged,
It is strange.
The Beliefs were all colored.
But the ashes , an indifferent gray.
With the dying embers, I said a prayer,
"May its soul rest in peace",
But I had burnt the soul a long time before.
With this thought in my mind,
I made my way out,
Out of heaven's doors.
What I didn't notice, was the Ghost.
Following me, was the Ghost of my dear old friend !


By Stuti Chandra

This is a poem by my sister, who blogs here.

Empty Spaces

Empty houses
Empty schools
Empty parks
Empty temples
Empty graveyards
Empty roads
Empty streets
I see the world empty.
Is it really empty
Or am I deluded.
Even if I am,
But what about our hearts?
I feel a void there created by us
When we lied and didn't repent,
When we stole and didn't repent,
When we raped and didn't repent,
When we killed and didn't repent,
When we turned our motherland into abattoirs,
For all the" good reasons"
Of course we didn't repent then
After all it was done for a "good reason"
Place a mirror.
Which one is the object ?
Which one is the reflection?
What is reality ?
What is illusion?
Empty world or empty heart?
Is emptiness engulfing us
or are we engulfing the emptiness?
I feel empty
I feel full,
Empty of goodness
Full of evil.

p.s I did NOT write this poem . She did . And I am proud of her . :)

Mother

How can you ever repay the women,
Who bore you, nurtured you, cared for you,
Whose love for you is deeper than her blood,
For whom you are closer to her than her heart,
Who stood the insurmountable, excruciating pain,
Only to shed the tears of joy in happiness and gain,
Whose first and last thoughts are of you,
For you she laughed, cried and sighed,
Through the low and high of tides,
Engraved are you in her heart and soul,
For your smallest of sufferings,
She took a severe toll,
For whom you are a treasure trove,
Whose emotions for you define Love?
There is no way, to pay that debt!
Neither in the heavens, nor on this earth,
Nowhere in this unbound Universe's girth!
I have never seen God,
But I sure have seen more than a glimpse of Him,
In the woman who gave me more than my Life,
My Mother.

For all the mothers in this World !

Why do we cry?

Why does a new born cry?
It’s the cry of life, filled with air,
Loud and clear, sans fear,
The beginning of a new journey!
A journey towards his childhood!
But then, why does a child cry?
Pangs of hunger, away from mother,
Scary monsters, spooky ghosts,
Or lost in a crowd of unknown hosts,
A pet died, a broken toy,
Or Just for the sheer joy!
Then he moves on to be a teen,
Thirteen, Fourteen …Eighteen, Nineteen,
So why does a teen cry?
Crazy Hormones driving him mad,
Could not hang on to a new fad,
Misunderstandings and misgivings,
Infatuations, oh that confusion, never ending!
Or enough of immaturity he had!
Then you to step into adulthood!
Young Blood! On Top of the World!
College’s Cool! End of School!
And why do you cry then?
Failed a test? What a pest!
Made a wrong career decision,
Hurting more than any incision!
Got dumped, your heart broke?
Or couldn’t get your heart throb?
Sick and tired of your job,
Couldn’t get married, or just got,
Or because this world is just a plain rot!
You grow older everyday,
As the life’s clock eternally ticks away!
With every day, you get another reason
More pain, more tears and more treason,
Facing love, hate, birth and death,
Fighting against all with all your breath,
And life goes on, on and on,
And then you reach the final stage,
Where you suffer from old age!
Gray hair and weaker limbs,
Addled brain, your vision dims,
Decay working with all its might!
For some it’s the kidney, lungs or liver,
Or at times it’s the old faithful ticker!
And if its not health or wealth that’s gone,
Then for those departed, you write a song,
Of those hearts that do not beat,
Or vanished forever in hasty retreat!
Metaphorical or literal, you got kicked!
Ignored and neglected, deprived and deceived,
You wished to God you were dead,
And then you cry, once again,
More tears you shed, yet nothing you gain!
All your life you have been crying,
Longing or needing, cursing and sighing!
For once, give it a rest!
Why don’t you look down the memory lane?
And Thank Him for the gift of life,
Its only when you’re dying,
You realize that you were lying,
Yes, there were times when you had to cry,
But weren’t there, too, moments of love and joy?
Through all the twists, turns, curves and bends,
You lived to see your rightful end,
You passed the Almighty’s test!
And its time now to leave this world,
And sojourn amidst the stars above,
Do it with a smile and a brave heart,
The immortal soul, your departs,
While the withering body rots and rusts,
From ashes to ashes, dust to dust!!

Kislay Chandra

When are you in love?

When your heart aches for her day and night,
When anything without her just doesn’t seem so right,
When your heart skips a beat at her sight,
When your soul craves her with all its might,
When you want to hold her hand all day long,
When you look in her eyes to read the unsung song,
When you want to feel her breath on your lips,
When her absence makes your heart flip,
When you want to touch her, caress her and smell her self,
When you want to feel the wind blowing her hair at your face,
When nothing pleases you other than her embrace,
When you want to cry when she is not near,
When her voice to you is sweeter than sugar,
When the touch of her skin sets you on fire,
When you want her even when there’s no desire,
When you don’t have words to speak out your heart,
When you want her sleeping besides you every night,
When you still love her after you had a fight,
When you want to make love to her alone,
And accept the changes in her without any groan,
When she is the air you breathe, the world you see,
When she is your sun, moon and your galaxy,
When she is with you, you feel like a king,
With her by your side, you fear nothing,
When she makes a journey uphill a joyride,
When you got hurt and she cried
When you feel that she is the One,
With whom you’ll go till the end of thine,
Leaving your imprints on the sands of time,
When she is all in this world you need,
When the thought of losing her is the most you dread,
When you’ll sacrifice anything for her,
Then, I believe, you are in Love!

Composed by Kislay and improved by Siddhartha

Riot

A riot broke in my land
Blood flowed and flooded,
through every hand ,
Man slaughtered man, and,
In vengeance was butchered by him.
A father and son were amongst those,
One perished, the other vowed revenge.
But when the time to kill came,
He heard the cries of a weeping mother,
All around him were grieving losers,
Their cries pierced the depths of heart,
The tears were many, the anguish same,
His hands froze, the malevolence maimed,
In death, he saw us all as one,
For they had no religion,
once they were gone.

Dumb Love

Dumb love

I saw her today, again
For the umpteenth time, it caused pain
Stinging, burning, blinding
And I felt a deep shame
A loathing, hate for my self
For I could never gather enough courage
To speak out her name
For countless days and sleepless nights
I have dreamt of her
But couldn’t even get near
We pass by each other
Sometimes, our eyes meet
So mesmerizing I find them
That time will freeze
And I daren’t smile
For will she smile back at me?
I am a mere stranger for her
With an unknown, yet familiar face
How shall I tell her the tale of my heart?
When I can’t even break the ice
She once sat besides me
Which sent me on cloud nine
Between stolen glances and fleeting glimpses
I conjured a reason to speak
But words failed to come out
And didn’t even meet those eyes
Fearing I’ll give myself away
I lost it to my weak
I hear her laughter, her voice
I see the glow in her face
I crave for her warmth, her scent
Surging towards her, I stop
And resignedly look away
Foolishly believing that it’s not meant to be
While the clock slowly ticks away

Kislay Chandra