Let It Be

Let those petals be.
Do not pluck them.
Beauty is in wholeness.
Beauty is in the original form.
You would be mad or sadistic
to decimate beauty,
while admirers, those who respect it
would let it be -
accepting and enjoying beauty as it is.

Let the butterfly free.
Do not capture it for your pleasure.
Its wings have colours for a reason.
It might leave its hues on your fingers,
but do not force it to give it to you.
It does not belong to you.

Let some things be.
They're extremely beautiful the way they are.
No need to think of what could have been.
There is ample grace and beauty in what already is.

Don't pluck those petals
and deprive the flower of its beauty.
Don't capture the butterfly
and deprive the tiny angel of its liberty.
Don't mess up with some things -
their beauty lies in their very existence.

Platonic relationships included.

Choice

Cramped in the boundless space of the mind,
Hordes of thoughts - one will find.
Opportunities to achieve what one wants,
Insights to shed light on "can"s and "can't"s.
Carefully decide which path to take, for
Ends or new beginnings it can make.

Road to Realisation

Fall in love,
fail in love,
lose yourself completely
and break your heart.

Delve into madness,
dwell in sadness,
roam around
like you're the most depressed of all.

Thrive on foolish hope,
take the downward slope,
loosen the steady grip
on your keen intellect.

Cry your heart out,
wear a perennial pout,
shed tears of depression
that ruin reason.

Make love your weakness,
fill yourself with meekness,
and be the madman
who's not in his sense.

But open your eyes,
from your fall arise,
and finally ask yourself,
"What's the point?"

Torchbearer

Agony, shame,
disgust mixed with contempt,
an intense hatred towards the society
born out of love for mankind.
Decay of civilization,
dormancy of the thinking faculty.

The door of knowledge is wide open
yet we bother not to enter the realm of intellect.
Is an ignorant man even aware of his ignorance?
Nay. Sad truth.

Neither a respect for knowledge
nor the urge to realize one's self-esteem.
Blissfully ignorant
with misplaced priorities.

What is it?
The fear of truth
in hearts brimming with inferiority complex.

The torchbearer's love for his brethren
makes him want to spread his light.
He's the carrier of
an intense light
that initially blinds the viewer
and later shows the avenues of truth and beauty.

An unwelcome intrusion he is
amidst his own brothers.
They pelt stones at him
and ignore his light,
clinging to their darkness and ignorance.

Torchbearers never cease their endeavours.
Torchbearers bask in the glorious light of truth.
They tirelessly wander around, trying to
enlighten the dark recesses of man's mind,
or immolate themselves with the very torch they carry.
The light of truth and beauty
never scalds the mind.

A torchbearer's decision to stop spreading his light -
a step backward in man's attempt to achieve greatness.

Decay of civilization.

Diversity

Colours, numbers, sounds,
smells, patterns and letters.
Five different sense organs
to feel the same,
but one entity to control them all.

A fly's trivial, tiny head
houses a thousand eyes,
while man's houses just two.
And the ear doubles as the eye
for one peculiar mammal.
Is a fly's tiny head really trivial then?

What is man in the mad cosmic chaos?
Yet, comprehend the universe's vastness
only he can.
A strange feeling of proud humility,
a unique case of humble pride.
How different is man to the universe
from a fly's head?
Infinity exists on both extremes.

If the stars we see today
are several billion years old,
how many billion years will it take
to see the star that was born just now?

Marvel at nature's greatness -
any time we can.
Worship nature -
always we must.

Not all fishes in the ocean
are the same,
not all birds
have the same plumage.
Not all reptiles
move the same way,
not all plants
are peace-loving and quiet.

Man appreciates diversity
in the lower forms of life,
even hails nature
for imparting it.

Yet, he torments his brethren
for the exact same reason.
What an irony!
Man.

Company of Creation

When all my muses walk away from me
without even bidding farewell,
when worries turn into sorrow
and later into depression,
when the heart wants to cry in agony,
shedding tears and trying to reach out to someone,
in desperation,
when the heart wages a war against the mind,
when thought just does not stop peeping into my being,
when I realize the only true company
I have in the world is myself
and let solitude embrace me,
I wish you be there on my side,
Oh! Poetry.
beautiful lady made of stringed syllables.
Choose not to abandon me
like my muses did.
Help me find
solace from my sorrow.
Kick logic and rationality from the mind
and inject the slow poison of unparalleled beauty.

You are beautiful yourself.
A smiling child's innocent countenance,
a soothing music I'd gladly drown into,
a sudden burst of colours
splashing in all directions -
the type of beauty I'd love to be killed by.

Be with me and take me high.
Be with me till I die.
Be with me and I will not cry.

Two Brothers

Two brothers - poles apart.
One cherishes life,
one abhors the same.
They're always in conflict.
The two brothers.

Two brothers - born in the same womb.
One respects mankind,
the other has nothing but disgust for man.
They are in constant disagreement.
The two brothers.

Two brothers - brought up the same way.
One has kindness unmatched in heart,
while the other takes pride in his cold indifference.
They're never on speaking terms.
The two brothers.

Two brothers - with the same education and means.
One strives for perfection,
the other is satisfied with mediocrity.
They're diametrically opposite to each other.
The two brothers.

Two brothers - fighting an endless battle with one another.
One is ready to forgive,
the other wants total annihilation.
They're like quarreling neighbours.
The two brothers.

Two brothers - in the same mind and the same body,
co-exist independently.
Should one cancel the other?
Or should there be harmony between them?
A duel in duality.
The two brothers.