Stagnation

I feel dull
I feel cluttered
I feel a lack of orientation
In a gamut of nothingness that occupies my mind
Inability to think
Inability to react
Lost in a world of slack
When one can stare at empty walls for hours
And every movement is rushed
Every word plays in slow motion
And a complete lack of comprehension
The world makes me dizzy
I want to stay by my side
Enjoy the feeling of being nothing
Let inconsequential presence stay
A rejected thought
A dejected life
On the border of distress and grief I reside
Energy is negative
Words are few
The mind numbed in vacuum
Like a black hole everything seems to sink
Everything collapses, in the force so intense
An expression of blankness
To hide the turmoil within.

Who is Self-assured?

Who is self assured?
The man who bore his family until he turned 64?
Today he relies more on emotional needs,
More than ever before
Self sufficient he always was
The bread winner of the family
The character he had enacted for majority of his life ended
A tragedy

Who is self assured?
The young professional who carries the burden of his success?
He drives too hard, he drives too fast
Without stopping to think what the true motivation is
Self-satisfied in one sphere of life
But for one failure
He cannot meet it in the eye

Who is self-assured?
The owner of gold mines?
Many a sleepless nights he lives
Fraught with danger to loose a dime
Too much at stake, too much of risk.
A nervous wreck-under the spell of misfortune or ill-fate.

Who is self-assured?
The maverick, who lives his nomadic life?
A self willed way of living
Untouched by worries, concern or strife
Unsettled he is over attachments and reciprocation of ties.

Who is self-assured?
The hand that rocks the cradle?
Or
The new born with a benign smile?
Who is self-assured, but the man deprived of self?
Who is self-assured, but the man living the only truth of life?
Who is self-assured, until one meets the mastermind?

Hunger to Strive

Feed me, my hungry soul
give me more.
Greed and lust are on what I survive.
they are the instincts that make me thrive.

Feed me, that's what I live for
with mental deprivation, I'd die.
I search deeper, than what meets the naked eye,
what a loon to complicate one's own life.

Feed me, my emotional intensity
channelize your jealousy,
instead of trying to imitate me.
Moral courage and humaneness are not born out of charity,
but of strength of character to seek out when you need.

Feed me, balance the rationale with creativity

Thinking of You

I think of you often
More often than not it is subconscious
Some memories fail to fade
Like fresh paint on a palette
Some evoke nervous laughter
Others make me twitch in disbelief
About how naïve I could have been

I thought of you this morning
For reasons unknown I was smiling
The radio station played our favorite song
People were sunnier than the norm
Home by evening
Content enough to write my own epitaph
Sank into the couch and stared at a canvass on the wall
And as the day begins to end
Dusk dawns
In the kitchen, I adorn the chef’s robe
To try my luck with a dish for folks
Wafts of cookies and caramel fill the air
In bed at day’s end
Going through a stack of old photographs
I wear a nostalgic smile
I have been thinking of you yet again
I think of you often
More often than not it is subconscious