Sometimes, I Stop to Think..

Sometimes,

I stop to think,

What decks the mind

Of a bullet,

In its tour between the muzzle,

And the target..

Of a ripple,

In its swell between the epicenter,

And the apogee..

Of a stone,

In its projectile wave from my hand,

To the dimpled surface of water..

Of a torrent,

In its gravity trek from the tap,

To the thirsty pitcher..

Of a yellowed leaf,

In its sway from the glued spot on the branch,

To the crisp crushing of passersby..

Of the words,

Between their egress from my lips,

To the boundary less exterior..?

But,

Do they have a mind of their own?

Perhaps not..

And they don’t think,

And they don’t stop.

Sometimes,

I stop to think,

If it’s a good thing to not think,

Or perhaps not…

Sometimes,

I stop to……

Complaining, All Over Again

I wish..

They were separate,

Mutually exclusive,

Just one at a time..

I wish,

There were partitions,

One cubicle for each,

Just one open at a time..

I wish,

They were real,

Those panes I build to divide,

Many at a time..

I wish,

I could rule over them,

I could drive them away,

Just all at once..

I wish,

I could move away a bit,

Just me without them,

Atleast once..

I wish,

I were their master,

And I could coerce them,

Sometime in my entire life..

I wish,

They would remain unruly as ever ,

And leave me to carp,

All my life..

I wish,

Oh my thoughts,

You would continue your autonomy,

And I shall remain griping all over my blog,

About you,

For you,

By me,

Change the order as you like:)

The Battle

There is a force,
I constantly battle against,
Weapons sundry,
I keep bringing up,
And humbled by defeat,
As each one goes down,
I go on, still undeterred.

Faith took its chance,
Survived a while,
Before being fazed out.
Love, in its ever smug role,
Took to the battle,
And bowed away soon enough.
Habit pitched in,
With immense hope,
The lesser said about it, the better.
And there followed
Hope,
Relationship,
Dreams,
All dripping in defeat,
Retreating..

What was the battle anyway..
What was the victory mark..
Survival.
Sustenance.
Consistency.
Eternity.
Who can beat them in their target then..
The target setter,
The target itself..
Time.

‘with time’,
It trounced something else too.
My opening lines,
As they metamorphosed ..

There is a force,
I constantly battle alongside,
Against the vagaries typically human,
As each goes down,
I go on, rejuvenated..

In That Moment...

In that moment when life slipped,

From beneath my arduous palms,

That were naively trying to pull it back,

Pressingly compressing,

Energized by desperation, anger, fear, anguish

Every emotion I am forbidden to feel,

Towards the stranger,

Whose chest rested below my resuscitating hands,

Resting in between my every effort,

Mocking at my endeavour,

Unrelentingly giving up,

Waiting for my cessation,

For its own……

All of twenty five,

And a fortnight old neonate to leave behind,

In that moment

When she transcended away

From the mortal phase,

When life as we know it,

Oozed its last from the bone and flesh,

When I accepted defeat,

Backed and gave way,

When I stood witness,

To the most profound experience of the final human,

When peace descended on her,

Beautifying death,

In that moment,

The ever extant regret

In taking up medicine,

Found a paradoxical companion,

In the new found love...