Hues of the heart – poem (a guest post)

Hi,

The following is a very interesting poem, by Anu R.Krishnan. Read on.

Hues of the Heart

by Anu R.Krishnan

The wind blew on my face;stung my eyes

No tears came out despite the pain

Speeding at seventy kmph,zipping through hairpin bends

Ain’t nothing like the thunders of pain ones’mind sends

He was at his racers’best,the smooth serpent of tar

Burning up beneath the tyres

Yet there I was,seated

Battling with emotions,defeated.

At last we reached the peak

I got off the bike,trying,pleading to myself,

To imbibe the ambience’s harmony

All this while,he hasn’t spoken a word.

One single word.

I bristle at his cool profile

Finally,I break out,lashing away in fury

Charging,accusing him of deeds;both done and imagined.

Every dart of mine is buffered by those eyes of his

Those puppy eyes I am so mad of.

There are few and measured answers

All of it seems so true and open to the skies

Alas! I’m chained to the past;my heart is closed to reason.

He stands there like the calm before a storm.

The fury has now flowed out of me,my rage abated.

He still stands,hands crossed,undaunted

Slowly he turns,facing the setting sun.

A slight chill creeps into me as I lean back against a boulder

There is no movement except for the slight shrug of his shoulder

I am rooted to the spot by remorse

Is everything merely a farce?

I brace myself for the backlash

I put my hand on his shoulder

Frightened,hesitating

All Is still.And at that very moment

I glimpse,the tear that rolls down his face

Ripping my heart.

I see,at that very instant,the love

I see the child within

I see pure,unbridled passion

I slip my hand in his

As the sun goes down,peace reigns.

Cheers

Kaber

P.S: If you liked this poem you might want to read these too.

Lord of the Rings – poem (a guest post)

Hi,

I came across this poem on Anisha Kamble’s orkut profile. She’s from Mumbai and wrote it about 4 years back. Its a very, for want of a better adjective, ‘cute’ poem, about the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. Check it out, I was smiling when I finished reading the poem.

Lord of the Rings

by Anisha Kamble, Mumbai.

There lived a little hobbit,
Bilbo was his name,
He lived in a hole like a rabbit,
Adventure was his game.

To slay a dragon he went one day,
And found a precious ring,
He took the ring and went away,
And in happiness did sing.

Little did he know, this ring,
Was full of evil power,
He loved it more than anything,
He wore it in the shower!

At last one day a wizard came,
And knocked on his door rat-tat,
Gandalf the Grey was his name,
He wore a silvery hat.

He told his little hobbit friend,
That the ring was a great danger,
And that its life must soon end,
Or Middle Earth would waver.

Bilbo gave the ring, against his will,
To his youthful nephew Frodo,
Who went with Gandalf o’er the hills,
To the dark land of Mordor.

But they were not alone, these two,
They were joined by seven more,
Merry, Pippin and Sam too,
Had added to the score.

And elves and dwarves and men too,
Joined the five on their adventure,
Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli to name a few,
Went on the journey together.

And all this time there was a man,
Planning the death of our friends,
Saruman, Sauron’s right hand,
Wanted to see their end.

Saruman made creatures of evil,
And sent them all away,
He wanted all of them to kill,
He wanted them to slay.

Orcs and Nazgûl and the Witch – King,
Formed armies all together,
They set out to find the ring,
And kill all the others.

And so they met the Fellowship,
And whipped out their swords,
They fought against the Fellowship,
And in anger, they swore.

They fought bravely, the Fellowship,
But one in the end perished,
Boromir, from the land of men,
His memory will be cherished.

Frodo could take this no more,
He couldn’t keep running for his life dear,
He sat in a boat and took the oar,
And set out to face his fear.

But Samwise Gamgee would not let,
Mr. Frodo carry the burden,
He made a promise that he could not forget,
That his duties went beyond the garden.

And so they set out, these two,
To destroy the ring forever,
Soon a third had joined them too,
Gollum – old name Sméagol.

Sméagol was a hobbit,
The ring had made him bad,
The ring was his beloved,
Without it he was sad.

To get the ring, he joined the two,
He wanted to save his precious,
To kill them, he was planning too,
He was ready to be atrocious.

And on their way they met more men,
Goblins and elves as well,
With some they indeed made friends,
With some it wasn’t swell.

Soon they met up with the rest,
And Ents had joined them too,
They destroyed Saruman and now was left,
One more thing to do.

And then the Great War began,
The War for Middle Earth,
They battled on with the bad and,
In the end they won.

And all this time Frodo and Sam,
Were at the heart of Mt. Doom,
“I’m going to destroy the ring, I am”
Was Frodo’s final tune.

And destroy the ring he did indeed,
But he suffered a loss too,
As Gollum gave his life to greed,
Frodo lost a finger too.

Joy and peace had once more spread,
All over the land,
The ring was no more a thing to dread,
It would never be in anyone’s hand

Aragorn, son of Arathorn,
Had married a fair maiden,
Arwen Undómiel was her name,
Together they ruled the people.

Now Frodo and Bilbo had to go
To live in the land of the elves,
Rivendell it was named,
They bade goodbye to their friends.

And so ends this tale of an evil ring,
Of how it once ruled and how it was killed,
Goodbye dear friend,
Alas our adventure comes to an end.

Cheers

Kaber

P.S: If you enjoyed this poem, you might want to check out the other ones here.

Who?

Hi,

Below, is a short story I wrote.

Who?

Let us assume that we are meeting here, in your head. I can hear you thinking “my head?”. I am a voice in your head now, anything you read is a voice in your head. Of course, if the guy who wrote me was a better writer, he would have painted with words, and your head would have been a swirl of colors, places, people… He didn’t. I am a voice in your head, and we are meeting now. Good day.

Can you hear me? I’ll describe myself, my accent is neutral, you find it hard to place me. My tone is heavy, almost masculine. My diction is clear. I am all around you, both your ears hear me harmoniously.You feel bound and locked in position as if there are ropes tying you to your chair. To be a bit more descriptive, your mouth is gagged and your eyes are covered with a velvet cloth.

Now read the previous passage again. Did you? I know you didn’t. Every question that you come across while reading, you skip. You don’t answer, or think about it. You expect the answer to follow the question. If I were talking to you though, you’d probably answer my questions. You’d seize the opportunity to talk. That’s why I gagged your mouth. I’ve covered your eyes because sight can be a distraction to thinking, you’d want to look around your own head if I let you see. And you’re tied up because that way you can’t fight me, you can’t protest, and you can’t move. Now, every question that follows, is really a question. Think of it, try to answer it, before you move on.

Why are you listening to me? You know you can stop anytime, but you’ll continue till I’ve finished saying what I have to say. You’re probably putting off something more important than listening to me, you are promising yourself that you’ll do it later. The promises you make to yourself are the easiest to break aren’t they?

Did you hurt anybody today? Something that you’re regretting now? You must have. I am not saying this because every one does bad things all the time, or because everyone attaches morality to what they do, but because of your karma.

What is karma? Haven’t you heard of the concept yet? Karma is what you get and what you are. It’s a theory, that says you get what you deserve – in a more sugar coated way. Karma also says that you’ll be born again, to repent for your sins. Karma says that you’ll be born to satisfy your wishes. So you’ll be born to do whatever you wanted to do, but couldn’t in your previous life, and also to repent for all the sins you committed then. If I am never going to remember my previous life, why would I repent? I would probably blame luck or fate. (Curious isn’t it, how you call bad destiny- fate and good fate- destiny?)

Karma made you read this. If God can control time, why should we be born again? Why can’t he just adjust our karma by changing what happened in our previous lives. Weird?

Religion is “Listen to what I say, don’t think”, you can’t write fan fiction for the Ramayana, or the Bible can you?

Morality is very queer. If it weren’t for morality, we’d all realize that doing helpful things to other people makes them reciprocate. Morality however blurs this perspective and removes a little bit of relativity. Doing “good” becomes a chore while it could have been more enjoyable.

Speaking of Karma, Kalki runs into my head, white horse and all. Why would God want to destroy the world that he built. This common thread of God taking revenge on us can be found in popular thought. If there was a God, he would be responsible for evil. Maybe God said “I am going to rest on the seventh day”, and secretly created evil. Sinister?

If ever God returns (was he here before?), he’d probably help us understand religion. He won’t be judging us, or punishing us. He’d tell us all to stop talking, and think. What ever he wants to say however would have already been said. God needn’t create a new religion anymore. He can just rip off a the best thoughts from around the world and give it to us. He probably destined google to help him.

Abstinence is another concept that is absurd. Why should you shy away from pleasure. What is the point? If you really want to enjoy yourself in heaven, why won’t you do it here?

I know I’ve been talking quite fast.Your thoughts are muddled now. In a couple of hours you’ll find yourself thinking about what I said. I’ll release you now. I ‘ll free your mouth and remove the velvet cloth covering your eyes. I’ll untie you and let you free.

You will get up, and be my prophet. I am God.

Cheers

Kaber

P.S: If you liked this short story, you will want to check out these too

Metaphors about Ideas

Hi,

This is a poem I wrote recently.

Metaphors about Ideas

Some Ideas have wings,
All of a sudden, they fly into your head.
Although if you wouldn’t respect them,
They’d fly away instead.

Some Ideas are from seeds sown,
By an incident, word or thought.
They spread roots to all you learn,
And lay invisible till they sprout.

Some Ideas are embryos,
Like a pregnant mother your bear.
Your experiences add to what they are,
Till they are grown enough to share.

Cheers

Kaber

P.S: If you like this poem, you must check out these too