This too shall pass,
Yet another assurance to give,
But, still the same old chores.
A mundane soul wanders around,
Buried under mediocrity and overwhelm,
Breathing upon self condolences
That hardly last any long
A search for self peace, becomes
yet another matter of stress.
Never mind the extra burden,
A detour, a short break, little smiles,
Few moments of delight,
But, everything becomes null,
As arrives yet another dreadful night,
For tomorrow anxiously awaits,
The same old mundane routine.
This too shall pass, this too shall pass,
February 2 Think global, act local : “Think global, act local.” Write a post connecting a global issue to a personal one.
“There is a hole in the ozone layer” they say
a reason for the increase in temperature
a reason for the melting of the polar ice
for the destruction of mother nature
while everyone is worried about the earth
I find a strange similarity in all of these problems
there is a hole of emptiness in my life
a reason for the increase in agony
a reason for the melting of my broken heart
for the destruction of my will to live
while everyone is worried about the earth
I find a strange comfort in seeing it getting destroyed
just like me, bit by bit, day by day,
waiting for that one day,
when we both will cease to exist.
January 20 Breaking the law : Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, not just ripping the tags off your pillows). Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?
Sins after sins,
the slave committed,
without any contemplation,
without any remorse,
thinking he will repent,
when his hairs grow grey,
unaware of the reality that
the shadow of death
always lured around him
he was drowned in enjoyment
negligent and carefree,
as he got struck with the sword of death
a bitter surprise and he closed his eyes,
now, forever, will he burn in hell,
for he thought he will repent
when the old age will come,
but little did he knew that
the chapters in his
book of life were few.
January 17 : In a crisis Honestly evaluate the way you respond to crisis situations. Are you happy with the way you react?
A monster that has been caged,
who is trying to escape,
wailing loudly and hitting the walls,
banging his head on the grills,
wanting to tear everything apart
A rush of emotions,
a heart full of resentment,
an out of control tongue,
and blood pumping in the veins
so helpless and defeated,
against my own raging soul.
January 13 Clean slate : Explore the room you’re in as if you’re seeing it for the first time. Pretend you know nothing. What do you see? Who isthe person who lives there?
What is this strange place?
with the colors falling off the walls
a stack of clothes, wrappers lying everywhere,
the bedsheet has been full of stains
as if there had been a murder on it
a noisy laptop is lying on the floor
it seems, it has been powered on since eternity
worn out books occupy the little space
beneath the broken timber bed
who can live here in such a dirty hell
a person who has no will to live? or
for lack of better words, a zombie?
maybe the one who lived here abandoned this place
for the place seems so haunting and lonely
and then from out of no where
someone taps on my shoulders, making me scared,
I look around and I am taken aback,
a wrinkled old man with red burning eyes,
staring at me, as if asking me about my intrusion,
he comes forward and points his gun at me
BANG!! and I wake up with a scream
Oh, it was just a dream but then I realized
my bedroom is the same place I saw in my dreams
maybe the old man was actually me?
So many questions rush through my brain
but then, I take a deep breathe and just go back to sleep,
for it was all just a dream, it was all just a dream.
I admired your words
the eloquence in your writings
captivated my heart
made me dream about you in delight
Maybe that’s how I fell in love
when you went far away
I didn’t miss you,
not for a single second,
I missed those profound words
those beautiful little poems of yours…
All these times we were together,
maybe I never loved you,
maybe it were just your words
that I fell in love with…
January 11 : This is your life
If you could read a book containing all that has happened and will ever happen in your life, would you? If you choose to read it, you must read it cover to cover.
Disclaimer : work of fiction.
Torn pages of a worn out book,
and a cover that cannot stay put.
I wish I could read, I wish I could know,
what actually was meant to be written in this book
without any hope, I flip pages after pages,
trying to find some meaningful words,
but all I could find is, a lot of blank pages.
some smeared ink and thousands of incomplete sentences
drops of shunned screams and blots of hushed agony
broken lines of hopes and margins of forgotten dreams,
I sit and wonder, why is this thing so depressing?
but then, all of sudden, the reason hits me,
I realize, this is how this book was supposed to be,
for this is, after all, the true story of my aimless life.