Mystic Credence

I travel through realms of the past

And I look at myself blur fast

A lost traveller, cradled in the wild

I pulsate back and forth like a child

I have seen the worst truths

I have been in the best myths

I unfurl in a spiral of moments

Scared at this mystic credence

Where do I run to and what for?

When this ugly chase tires me more

Ridiculed, I mount the mound

Born with insanity, dutifully bound

Moved by my silence, I rest

Craving for tunes of life, the best

I smile a lullaby to self, taken

It’s a life of tales, yet to awaken

Thrown into my heart’s gallows

I scream and whisper to my pillows

A shaken soul, I look outside

To see the sun rising on the west side.

Gracias,

ßąரK૯ર

Queen Of Mysteries

Oh my sea do you see

Where your waves set sail to?

Do they wander to shores yonder

Or to unknown feats?

Are they like the waves in me

Calm now, shaken later

Igniting moods of red and grey

Sailing through life come what may

Do you know where you belong 

In real, in dreams and for so long

When your waves end their rides

Contented they saw all the tides?

Pulled off course, yet still on

Is your spirit so strong 

Are you the queen of mysteries

Or the child of many histories?

When you kiss the sun at dusk

Does he tell you you aren't alone?

When the mellow yellow misses 

The bright blue, can you really let go?

The high waves your heart's soar

Contented, they rise and roar

When the night falls, do you still flow

Towards shores unknown, unborn?

Gracias,

Banker

The Realm

A second thought it never took

A second glance I never took

It all happened in this realm

Where I found myself, surrendering

 

Nor did I ever look back

For it all just turned blank

Blinded by surrealism

Swept away in your arms

 

I fell through chasms of passion

Moved through tunnels of care

I saw light at the end of each

It all came from your eyes

 

Moments to minutes, minutes to hours

Your breath on me sensed heaven

I fell through yet again, like a pawn

Through a world of just our own

Gracias, 

Banker

 

The Cycle of Legends

I often fall into the counseling mode, which, sarcastically enough, in the past had motivated my friends to christen me “Banker”- who listens to their secrets and keeps them safe. One of my friends recently told me she was sad as she saw herself as an outcast, a sore thumb sticking out of this world. I may not be a psychologist, or a theorist for that matter, but I told her something that I thought was true. I don’t know whether I am good with theories, but this one I thought I should write down. She agreed and told me that it made her smile.

I had seen an advertisement by Apple Inc., one of their “Think Different” campaigns. Being a follower of the brand and the philosophy of radically revolutionizing the way people look at products and their use, I found it intriguing. Taking a cue from this ad, which portrayed legends in their making, outcasts from the society, and outlaws by nature rising up to the stature of the elite, I formed a theory in a few seconds. After I typed it out to her, I felt the theory made sense in many dimensions.

The thought went like this (descriptive here): “A right fit in a society would move on, move around and do things to better self, or his/her immediate beneficiaries. He/she changes things for self benefit. On the other hand, misfits take away the existing status quo, through struggle but with a definite vision. They lift the pain off many, becoming legendary stars in the eyes of the society, which called them misfits once. Ironically, the so-called right-fits sense the air of change and starts looking up at the misfits in awe. They start following them, adapting to their ways because their capability is limited to the circumstance they live in, incapable of drifting from what has been followed by others. It is this very fact that differentiates leaders from followers, visionaries from laymen.”

I have no references to give for this theory, because it arose out of my common sense. I may give examples from history, from Mahatma Gandhi to Mother Teresa to Swami Vivekananda. Sometimes, we do not realize the fact that we are evolving, just like our ancestors did. When we analyze our lives critically and philosophically, we may remain with a single question: “When the moment of change had arrived, were you the one who initiated it, or were you the one to follow it?”

Gracias,

ßąரK૯ર