Path of Life

Time passed, months went by
Year after year
I worked, improved and worked more
But, I wasn't an automaton.
Like Morpheus and Neo, I stole
My moments of life,
my moments of coding,
my musings on maths,
On quatum physics
On life
My moments ...
Of happyness;
And like now, my moments of self-introspection,
The daunting infinite loop.

Why do I have to steal?
Why live in pretense?
Are we all mere commodities in each others' eyes?
Is Rand right?
I am a man with questions
And a quest to find the answers.
All I have is a path.
Guess this makes human life worth it;
A path and hope to see beyond.

Supressed Desire.....

A wednesday clip

A common man dreams but the jurisdiction prevents it's dreams from becoming a reality

Every morning when I step out,

I sense the unpleasantness.

A frenzy air knocks my mind;

And stops me to think beyond.

Unsullied by anything,I returned.

And found a lady lamenting,

For unceremonious departure of her son.

I was choked and scared

As air following me

Warned me of some unprecedented.

Burning my midnight lamp,

Very often I fantasize,

That I should fight these falcons.

But the encubrance of jurisdiction,

Prohibits me in making reality.

What's your excuse?

EYES OF TRUTH

It joined me with a mere cry.

I gave the air

And resisted it's die.

When it moved forward

And took it's first stride,

I was there to provide the grip.

It tore my heart

And extracted the blood.

I sustained the pain

But never asked, why?

It plotted me out

And made money out of me,

My parts were sold for lakhs per acre.

But hardly I ever hesitated ,

As I was the mother to all.

After gaining age and Wisdom,

It came back;

I was elated.

At last I am going to be served;

Tears rolled down my chin

And hand raised to greet him,

It looked at my eyes,

But the eyes were neverth the same.

All my acts went in vain,

As he turned back;

And never looked again.

I burnt in the fire of agony,

For my son had left me alone.

But never gave up my job to serve;

As eyes of truth are always watching us.

Rise

They were sixteen in the family

Sharing one chappati amongst them;

But the house in the capital

Had a lavish supper.

When it rained hard,

They had nothing to wear;

Only a small roof to be shared;

But thou after a nap

Got up, stared at the window

And said "Perhaps it rained !"

When festive time came,

Thou prepared for celebrations

With new wear and plenty to eat;

But for them its nothing more than a nightmare

With nothing to wear

And hardly anything to satisfy their hunger.

Thy preserve thine innocence

And learn the ethics at school;

But at the age of holding pen,

He holds a bowl adding to his livelihood

Making him a likely goon.

Can't thou be a bit liberal;

Give away thy extravagance

For them who dream

But reality supresses their desires.