In the end what are you getting at…

what are you getting at ?

aim and ambition just so you belong in a group

not knowing love…

there lived a man once who only wanted one wish fulfilled.

he thought if he followed his shadow all the way,

to the end of the earth, he would finally catch up

with the mystery behind this  optical wonder…

so he set out of his comfort circle, he had drawn long ago around himself.

in all this while he had never crossed it.

now that he thought about it, he wondered why…

he had allowed a sediment of rustic cobwebs to cluster around him.

he feared it, he hated it.

it brought him discomfort,

what is beyond was unknown

he was simply afraid

he was the master of what he had in the circle of comfort.

he ruled it.

familiarity meant mastery.

over the years the curiosity dissolved, it drowned in the eternal sea of untruth

he was now very used to it…

he could not bear the thought of letting go…

again the fear of the unknown,

he found it intriguing and incomprehendable

so those thoughts were unwelcome.

day after day he lingered on,

tired of being tired

chasing the trivial goal

speaking the familiar tongue.

afraid of the unknown

ever unready for an adventure,

one day he woke up….

i mean he really woke up to the world

only to notice his long early morning shadow

he wondered why?

why he never noticed how long his shadow could get…

he never noticed it owing to his busy schedule…

probably because he never had time…

busy doing what?

what? when? why? how?

these thoughts were not frequent visitors in his dome of a mind

they were strangers

they were unwelcome

with pure spite he tried to disown those questions…

the harder he tried the harder it got to avoid them…

now after a brief struggle with his mind

he noticed his shadow again

it was well within the comfort circle now.

it was getting hot

thus one morning pythogoras theorem dawned upon him

it was already too late for upkeeping his daily routine

he took a day off.

he fueled the vehicle of his body with edible

and sat down to ponder more on the unknown

while getting cozy in the comfort circle,

over these many years he had mastered much

or so he liked to believe

naive as a peasant

this collared man reigned his little world

a frog in the well.

it was now evening he sat there gazing at the stars

where his feet would lead him if he followed it.

the next morning he woke early and set afoot.

there was a wise owl who lived in the corner of his webbed cave of life

the bird was retiring from a hard nights labour,

it had a simple job profile,

wake fly snoop swoop grab kill eat hoot. etc.

over the years the old owl had become an executive by rank

very skilled and was leading a contented life.

when he narrated the curious events of yesterday

the owl warned him of the dangers outside the web of safety

he would have considered what the owl had to say…

but this was not another regular day,

he was determined to go out there and find out what lurked beyond.

only time could tell what awaited…

the owl felt insulted and so it tried to mock him.

but our friend was not about to be discouraged.

the owl said “In the End what are you getting at?”

and it hooted loudly in amusement.

Reflections of a Shadow

A mere reflection it is!

fear not child,

it aint worth a penny in the end.

why take the trouble?

oh! silly boy,

so sang the master in their divine tongue.

the angels around nodded in silent obedience,

and they smiled, for none can contain the grace within themselves.

it shows outside as blazing smile.

the boy was at loss for words…

in a divine assembly, there is not much to speak.

if worldly love is an ocean and keep so many busy,

engrossed then divine love is only limitless like the sky.

there was once an episode in the testament of wold,

the shepherd lead his beloved flock across a coral rouge sea.

and he lead them to the promised land yonder where the faithful

dwell in harmony. this harmony is an unstable equilibrium…

for even now there is blood spill on the streets in those lands

the folk tend to wrongly perceive the master’s voce.

the purpose of faith is love for peace

and acceptance of all like your own.

how can you instill your faith in a child by killing

his sire and brothers in field of steel and sharpe?

how can you make him believe in your cause by

making his mother cry?

so many tears so much blood…

if there was a world where there was only sweat

spill on the floor, sweat of man spilt to provide care for his brothers

and others… and no blood, there need be no rains of tears and cry…

I pray, as i write this, many an eye need to open to see,

men with power need to see… there can be enough damage the nature can bring to our shores

without us trying to rip the others throat…

wake up and see this life is only a reflection of a shadow…

everything our fading senses perceive is a lie…

this is but a reflection of shadows

this life is…

the wise see it as it is…for they do not depend on the lesser senses.

one who sees is near freedom.

the rest are taking a dive in the ocean while they are supposed to be

growing to wing to fly the clear skies.

hear my voice and step into the unknown,

you will find yourself in the company of light.

find yourself.

find light as you look within…

there is infinite to explore there.

there is immortal bliss awaiting.

do not leave it hanging any longer, it is time.

see now

this life is a mere reflection of shadows.

The Grave RED Threat or A Trick to Treat Bellied Capital

There is a resident colony of deadly evil,

deadly evil right under the floor boards of the White House,

The President and his staff work right over these snoopy lot.

these communist work tireless.

they feed little, they save more. unlike their host,

The Ultimate Paradox is this.

More you rid the red and go liberal,

the more the red get to feed on.

these communist wont stop at a wave of pest repellent,

for such is their determination to live on…

they have barely two senses,

the majority are born slaves.

many think the communist are lot different from

the democratic republican nations,

how gravely they are mistaken, for the two are not different at all.

In fact they they are equal in their intensity at exploiting the innocent and the common.

the common do not get to say anything when under the red veil, and those

scavenging for the capital get a mere eye wash, the namesake democracy.

this is hardly a voice. most people tend to believe what they see.

the capital is keen on keeping the one hundredth of the population swelling with means.

the rest are mere pawns, who would do their bidding in return for a mongrel of a tip.

and about what is sadder than this,

what they pay they grab from the same working lot later,

when the average joe is out consuming.

the inflated pockets are the only ones that swell more.

the land of opportunity is a lie to the poor.

to the affluent, this land is the opportunity to rob more.

I wonder where these people intend to take away the score.

A hundred generations of African Hunger could be dealt with…

with what these sharks hack annually,

but we the people cannot say much, for the rich are also

provided with the strings, their control over the administration is threatening.

A small population get to move so many pieces.

It is only to a certain extent can one can use

“Diamonds cut Diamonds” as an allaby.

An allaby to all the atrocities committed in the last decade.

Millions had to depart so these power men can avenge their loss.

even that reason i Doubt… Personally my feel is that the wars are fought

to control flow of “one time deep sea life”.

the deep sea life, when it found the world too filthy to behold,

quit disapprovingly, and left behind only this gross physical morph.

this morph with slow decay of time and the vast volume and pressure

of the sundering sea morphed into the reason for the unrest

in the land of the children born to the dryness of desert

and the heat of the morning star.

so who is the real villain?

back to beginning of the story…

the RED Army is now strong and ready to strike,

they only wait for their queen to command.

their fuhrer is their queen, and no other.

let me explain the social organization of an ant colony.

there is the queen whose authority is beyond question…

the queen is hidden away in safety of the nest.

she is busy getting fat…and copulating

with equally lustful multiple partners.

she does this all day.

And then there are soldiers ants.

these soldiers do the queen’s dirty work for her.

they protect the colony from the foreign threat.

the soldiers are eveready to flex their muscles.

there are scouts who wander in a watch out for trouble and new quarries.

then there are slave ants who work their asses off.

these slaves have come to be for one purpose and one purpose only,

they are here to get the aristocracy fed and fat.

now look at your own side of the fence…

how different is this strata of society from your own?

there is the ruler chosen by rich contributers.

these rulers are happy to be lap dogs seeking a mongrels or two

every now and again in return for large monopolies

over grand mega scale ventures.

this is so predictable. but is seldom spoken of…

this the analogy I would use to relate

ruling body of ant colony and a modern Anti communist country

then there are soldiers-mindless and armed and armored with heavy metals.

these war machines are bred to kill.

same is the case with ant colony where there is a host of born killers.

there are the secret intel agencies, who jerk-off around looking for trouble,

not allowing peace to be in any corner of our beautiful blue planet.

similar to the scout ants but only with a lot less noble motive.

then there are the common men who are naive and meek.

these poultry of human genome are the most adversely affected in all of these

shady trades. they are comparable to the worker ants but

the worker ants do not suffer layoff in case of an economic recession.

the worker reds get the first bite of the feast unlike a regular capital environment,

where the employee is spared leftover.

the fact is that, at least in an ant colony all the ants are

brothers born of the same mother-the queen.

every ant is a royale prince and an owner of the estate.

this sadly is not the case in our society.

the rich bank owners have a major say in all of the real estates,

for they own the house you buy with the borrowed money

so long as you owe them a penny.

the consumerist society encourages an average joe

to purchase with non existent money.

hence he would live an entire life in debt.

For what? Is it worth being a slave?

A slave in return for some comfort and wellness.

a car, a cheese burger, a can soda shit…

Are you willing to write away your rights for these?

This is how different your saviors are from the reds

who live right under the very floor boards of their anto in comfort.

Future is the new present

Ever get a feel that what happens is only bound to happen?

Ever got a feel that everything is completely under control…

that nothing can go wrong, whatsoever…

the truth is predictably a fine grain balance between these two extremes.

what is bound to happen is certainly about to happen,

at the same time you do have a choice to avoid messy stuff in life.

It is like this, NOW you have a choice, decide and step up.

BUT be sure to owe up to the associated consequence morrow, or a day after.

most people get cosy with either of the two, which ever suits them most often.

fools they are I tell you…for they are deluded.

nothing is certain. but every point of your life has more than a unique possibility .

possibilities are infinite.

then again there is a whole new class of foolishness.

the impractical ones who are neither here nor there.

they cant help but blame and crib.

when there is time they would seek a layer of cushion for their bottoms,

avoiding toil and sweat, they detest the idea of work.

spending all tick tock in vain they would say…

Oh dear, anyway what has to happen is only going to happen,

we can only meekly observe, cannot change the course of destiny.

there is a higher purpose for everything.

it has to happen that way.

when time is short, when there is not much sand in the clock left,

they would wake and screech like the rabbity who chose to snooze.

the last minute effort would then later only be futile.

this will further demoralize the demo-crazy witnessing such and such.

now my brothers we have reviewed three types of foolery in all.

they are as follows:

those so self-proclaimed self-reliant lot. who are determined not to accept the hand of fate and chance.

those fortune teller tails, who only rely on luck and chance, they expect the big hand to tirelessly move all pieces for them.

then there are those neither here nor there folk who conveniently interpret the truth wrong.

The truth is as such…

do your duty now and do not expect any results.

as long as you get to play with the pieces you push it hard to the far end toward the score.

the rest is up to the divine to play.

they are wise,those who see truth and perceive the same.

you are the maker of thy own destiny…

there is no past, as it is already gone.

there is no future as it not certain yet.

there is only now.

And NOW is when you get to score.

the future is the new present.

Colors Of Birth

 


The colors of birth
the race begins...
survival of the fittest.
all ready, ready to roll out,
it is time, the push, the gush,
the lust, but for what?
nothing! just powered by 
the forces of the nature
helpless we stuggle
to hold on to all beloved.
for how long...? no idea!
definetly not long
is it worth it?
I wonder if anybody else
had ever asked these questions...
the roles we play, strangely enough...
leave a certain hue and color,
the pure being that iam that you are...
clouded by greed and lust and uncertainty.
subtle is thy nature....oh lord of the life...
but you seem like you couldnt care less...
the cycles bring change, yes they do...
and spin takes us all the way to the other side 
the stubborn and the stupid stick on....
unable to let go of the lesser joys
this rat trap of an universe has to offer...
and we go on spinning...
the quest for immortality....
sadly forgotten, wrongly spoken of!
the only real quest is thus we realize
our very nature is eternal,
there is no need to hold on!
the wise have known this all,all this while...
but they speaketh not of it...
for they know that those who know need no saying
and others wont get it even if said...
a real magic can happen to those who believe,
such is their smile, without any hesitation,
such is their joy, there is no equalling it...
such is the compassion, that words cannot scale up to it...
the real race is the one with ourselves
and that the only one...
like a child running all the way to hug the mother...
the race back to safety...
the journey home.
the evolution from imperfection to thy own nature...
the race to our self.

The Voyage of a Rat…

The voyage of the rat

the most interesting one of them all!

here goes….

they art geborn und die under the new reborn sun,

the sun new and reborn and all only to witness!

for the wise only do that, they witness, they watch and they smile.

oh they smile alright, like nobody’s business,

those beings that know the real,

are free from trivial

joys and sullen, same ol same!

they are free from the even smog which clouds the uncorrupted inner eye.

somebody hopes that one day you too will see.

love awaits, so now you harken to this call,

you will learn the truth of the eternal love.

when love meets life, it recognizes itself.

how!? how could we be so naive,

seeing outwardly is but a mirage, that experience only leaves

behind a damage of impact with the untruth.

somebody hopes that one day you too will see.

see within thee, see infinity, see the pure love ,

as pure as a weiss dove.

have you lighted a candle only to leave it in

a darksome room, watched its many tongued flames rise

over and above the waxy shoulders below.

now if there is enough air but no wind,

have you a clue what is to become?

take my word my brothers, it is divine.

An Enlightening experience, literally.

this one time, a dark night i was tempted to try the above narration

and during which i conceived a thought in my head.

what if?

what if? we could have a mind so streamlined and sure.

so flawless? could it be?

could anything be…?

as smooth as an undisturbed flame.

slowly i closed my eyes after a longing gaze,

i was able to feel the flame burn between my two eyebrows

it was a startlingly pleasant feel, oh! it was, my brothers.

after what appeared to be an age, an entire bunch of milleniums

had gone by in a slow exponential decay of time,

asymptotix had a major play

things didnt seem to end.

in fact i would rather it wouldnt stop.

i forgot my physiological existence

infinity has but no form.

the unfolding had happened with my witness

the unfolding of me!

but was i in control my brothers? no alas, i was not

 when you realize you are indeed but a mere witness,

all sense of possession dissolves in enigma and wonder.

that is the key, the transformation of enigma to golden dust and wonder.

this is when truth may be revealed to us.

we are ready to receive tis.

there is no right, there is no wrong.

there is only the truth that is you and then,

there are experiences that leave a cloud of opaque dust.

if the rat woke up before the sundering oceans of untruth drowns it,

the rat is free, else it would gebort in the same sinking ship…

this my brothers is the voyage of our friend the rat.

alas would he heed the call? and turn inward,

 where somebody awaits his return with a smile!

when love meets life it recognizes itself’.

All for ONE , ONE for All

All for ONE And ONE for all

what really matters is but us all

with life force to drive us about

and without us a geburt?

yet now is time of rustic indulgence,

all this youthy convulsion…

short sight concoction with hippy delusion,

right under vicious capital motivation,

the misty whereabouts of young blood

all eve and twilight lost in weed and smog,

glory of dark only sung in pop and rock

the sway of demon alone dominates over

the swell of so called trendy…evil more….

the treasure of heritage and culture

long dead now is food for vulture

and other carrion of death

fag fag now burning bright….

brighter than all other light

I see youth but no spark in sight…

other than a fag still burnin bright…

would make many a mum cry,

until their eyes are all but dry

the fag so hot it can fry…

In heart a feel of wry,

seeds sown now in you.. will grow to be sorrow

lost youth once, end of it , see… you cant borrow…

the cross roads of life so narrow

you all need to wake up the very morrow….

Even sadder is the tale of brothers

who drown themselves deep in frothers,

bottles big and small

comes in sizes plenty shapes and all,

a dunk of shameful delight

then all over the place in the misty twilight,

the rich are the hunters who bait

from up behind corporations, for you they wait,

their mission is total paralysis of human gait.

today pitiable is human fate….

to cross this ocean by itself is a fight

free on the yonder shore thou shalt be,as a kite…

but not bound by a thread so tight,

the hour is still as dark as a night

the cold truth and reality comes as a bite

the shores are now in sight

if one leap dive didnt suffice, will to give eight…

the taste of immortality is beyond any

mortal experience , so say the wise ,times too many…

yet few pay heed

can you not renounce the rank of weed

leave behind no seed

all this because of con-men greed

and fewer are who follow the path of light

filthy vices are sticky , harder to fight,

once again the days are dark as a night

the society at large loosing gait,

all for one and one for all…

keep in mind this,or  you fall,

from mega structures corporation grown tall

see the light,  heed the call

these trappers bounce you as a ball

you belong with us inside our hall

safe within its magical wall,

Alas all for one and one for all…

Not too close Not too Far

Not too close , Not too far

precisely like a lotus fleur.

They thrive  waters murky und rustique,

treacherous with many life mystique ,

yet never so wet themselves,

They glow confidence under the scorching blaze,

they smile below my naughty gaze

they hold still against the haze

afternoon breeze , they close

up their coats of cellulose

over the chilly lake bustle

all of  those under water hustle

the big fish causing among one small many a tussle

none though affecting our blossom of

a heavenly grin , a sway may be

but a stagger … never really ,

Not too close , Not too far ,

thou rise with aqua and fall ,

and not a sign of unease at all.

like a serpent thou shalt windup

over and over thyself below.

none shall see how thee yale,

the master’s depth is beyond comprehensive scale.

Not too close , Not too far thee get,

the waxy coat of impassive,

full of positive and expansive,

thy seeds of wisdom leaves muddy water in bloom ,

for miles around there aint no gloom.

thou art the soul of a bog ,

hence about you i write the blog….(lol)

all around you life would slog ,

crazy as a starving dog,

yet the lotus flower never mog,

for you love the life of this bog,

when the sun and sea snog ,

surrounded by eve and fog ,

in comfort of sepal tog,

wave at any passing fish and frog,

hibernate in wakeful awareness until morning drag.

All this , But then also, Not too close Not too far.

Thou art the master of thine art…

The Evolution of Rain

The sporty wheels of my bike,

me in my regular gear, the black wind cheater jacket

over a grey round neck banyan,

and a white knee length shorts,

my sneakers are soaked.

Behind me is my brother

with all of his precious luggage,

all the way from the unis etas damerique …

He is on his way to our home (The Ashram).

A helmet covered head, near zero visibility

without my shiny black spectacles…

Both of us are completely soaked

by crystal drops of south Indian monsoon…

The onset of humid season

marking the end of the hotter times of the year,

cold was the breeze on my neck,

Its been a while since we had any rains

no shower in the last half a year.

The new hope….

wait a second, but then we were on the road,

The traffic jam along the way,

The struggle to hold on to the course,

with my slippery fingers on the handle bar…..

Oh yes! it was summer the clear bright summer

at least until earlier in the morning,

But now suddenly out of the blue

as they say, came strong winds

lightning and thunder storm

heavy torrents over our heads

these drops you see were once those rivers that flowed

from high hills down across the flat plains

and then as wide deltas and those narrow estuaries

into the great mighty oceans.

These drops are the river waters that know the depth of the oceans.

They made friends with the sun and made peace with the sundering seas

bid farewell to the rest of their kin all around them

only to rise and rise above the salty seas

up all the way to the high heavens

from whence all our angels keep their watchful gaze over

our backs and the compassion they show

cannot be scaled even by arrows and bow…

the weary drops do not stop and the journey does not end there

they congregate in larger number than ever on the way up.

the wet cottony clouds…

white are they and they make the

young old see objects and shapes in sky alike,

the clouds then start to miss the deep wisdom of the oceans,

they long to be in the company of their beloved friends,

the other drops left back in the sea…

alas they can bear themselves no more…

they are heavy with grief and loss…

they yell and they lament, they shout and they thunder…

Not even the cool breeze can then comfort them

with a lullaby, for their loss of loved ones and the longing so great,

they begin to weep….

they lose part of themselves in the high skies above

They shower down upon our heads their love for their kin…

and thus cometh the rains from clear windy skies

The monsoon rain

The slow drizzles and the blinding torrents

all the same…

Back to where it all began….

Me and my brother on my bike

in the hustle of a cloudy summer night….

We felt the love in ever drop of crystal water,

every drop over our shoulder

fell as a mighty boulder,

only they know their story

but none there are who listen, we ought to hurry,

Have they no choice …no choice at all, from these cycles of misery

Birth, life and death

and then all over again…

these clear waters from the sky

they cleanse all of the jungles urban and rural and the woodlands alike

the dirt they take all the way back to their wise master who would not spike…

some reason to pause and breathe

and our life goes on forever ,

Or NOT?   Yeah… Whatever!

Are you a Geek?

• Do you find yourself in the company of people who think rather different than what the usual accepted way of thinking is?
• Do you like talking stuff an ordinary Joe would not be able to follow?
• Does it make you proud if somebody calls you a Geek?
• Do you love to read more than what is needed (the extra mile)?
• Do you love computer games?
• Do you appreciate technology?
• Are you least bothered about social acceptance?
• Do you value your time and in spite of that end up being lectured about time management?
• Does your school curriculum mean nothing to you?
• Do you love the “out of the box” stuff?
• Do you enjoy making things , fixing things , and finding out how they work?
• Have you ever unscrewed your ball point pen to take out the refill?
• Have you ever looked inside your computer?
• Do you have friends with whom you talk about the same things every day?
• Do you love Sci-fi?
• Have you ever fixed your car?
• Are you reading this page?
• Do you have code name / a Handle?

Very well YOU are a GEEK

and you belong here with us

tell us what you are thinking, if you can come up with something else  that we Geeks are used to doing, do share…