Nostalgia

Someone has deceased 

in the neighbourhood. 

Whether it's an elderly person 

who lived life to the fullest; 

or a middle-aged one 

forced to abandon responsibilities, 

thanks to fate; 

or one still young and full of dreams, 

wishing for a better tomorrow; 

or a child who had not even comprehended

what life is, 

I cannot ascertain. 

I can hear 

the piercing sound of the conch-shell 

and the heavy clang of the wooden beater 

on a metal plate - 

sounds from the funeral procession. 

The mind works non-stop,  

albeit in strange ways. 

Some synapses work in synergy 

and transport me to a time 

when life was easier. 

The piercing sound and 

the metallic clang 

conjure a 15-year old memory - 

one involving my ex-neighbour, 

one filled with the insouciance of childhood, 

one that revolves around our reproduction of funeral sounds. 

An onomatopoeic memory.  

The 10-year old me and  

the 7-year old ex-neighbour 

say hi in my mind's eye, 

galloping around carefree, 

shouting "Cooooo... Ding, ding, ding 

Ding, ding, ding....." 

I smile briefly, 

come back to the present, and 

THEN pray that the departed soul 

rests in peace.  

How inappropriate! 

"There's No God"

So minuscule - the eyes can't see it.
The key to life lies within.
Not all visitors does it inside permit.
Though holy, labelled the original sin.

What happens next - again unseen.
The growth is mad. Old clothes can't be worn.
Welcomed by people happy and keen,
Nine months later, a new life is born.

So minuscule - the eyes can't see it.
From it, journeys of death begin.
Rarely people survive after being hit.
Millions lose, only a thousand win.

It cares not if it's an old man or teen.
Spreads gloom in hearts, and hides the dawn.
No matter how strong one has been,
When the time arrives, what's gone is gone.

The invisible becomes visible.
The visible becomes invisible.
These mysteries mind can comprehend not.
The invincible becomes vincible.
The vincible becomes invincible.
For, the Universe itself grew from a tiny dot.

Marvels I see,
of miracles I hear.
The heart feels glee
as well as fear.

I ask you queries.
You negatively nod.
And it really worries (me)
when you say, "There's no God".

Innocence

I see an old man lying lifeless,
With a group of mourners singing elegies.
His sons quarrel among themselves,
For a lion's share of his wealth.

I see a couple of young women
Talking about their sarees and fashion.
Their interest is immense
And glows brightly their passion.

A well-wisher comes with a garland
And lays it on the corpse.
Some people stand there restless
As if they were brought there by force.

The man playing the parai (South Indian percussion instrument)
Is unmoved by all the activity.
He is an intellectual and is
Aware of life's cruelty.

Deep in my thoughts
I realize that the body is what perishes,
Not the soul.
I learn to embrace life on the whole.

The gleeful laugh of an infant distracts me,
Instantly attracting me towards it.
Seeing its blissful, smiling face I understand that
Everything else dies, when innocence dies.
-Mr.ClAiRvOyAnT