When Wreckage of the Past is Erased Not Built

It’s been a while when the world has shifted a century. Industrialisation, privatization and Foreign Direct Investment has let the country of India observe an unprecedented scale of development. But that development at the cost of natural resources, are we becoming more normal with this kind of exploitation? Well, actually we are!

I take the case of highways for now. From centuries these roads have been letting us reach places. Cities, towns, villages, you name it, the importance of roads are always uncalled for. With more people plying on these roads to reach destinations, it calls for expansions unless it’s an intention to create chaos.

What we see in a corrupted democracy is continuous delay in plan executions. Improper planning is also a first hand problem. No visible ‘work-in-progress’ indications to the commuters causes life threatening inconveniences. Uneven compensations for the acquired lands calls for life long protests. Merciless cutting of trees causes huge threat to environment. Delay in reaching destinations may cause someone lives.

Who cares?

An expansion project of just 50-60 kms may take years to complete. This means years of suffering. This means our country has failed to deliver to the taxpayers money, to the votes in the favour of the government and to the promises that utterly discouraged a dream of a better future. And just for 60 km road that actually is serving lakhs of people connecting two important cities and yes, which incidentally is also a national highway?

I’m being personal here. In my three years of regular commute on this road, I share millions of memories. Talking to the trees enroute to my college which occasionally would make the road look like a heavenly cave as they would usually entangle themselves with the trees on the either sides mark my memories of a beautiful past. Now, a four lane would make the summer travels merciless and winter travels bleak without drop of fog leaving the leaves making my travelling body shiver with cold. Now, newly built milestones would tell me that here were some relentless trees who were once martyred without a title for us humans to ply faster to reach nowhere.

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Colossal

I hear not the whisper, my memory making me wince,
Of those few words, moments long lost in wilderness.

Straight, cloudy, road and sky,

I tear my heaven to know if it’s you.

Your shine, paused with ample happiness,

I fear my eye, fate if I come see you.

 

I paint back from past, things, chats,

New like a pinch of fairy on my cheeks.

I fly out of my mind, towards you,

Off where you begin, the world ends.

 

I hear not the whisper, my memory making me wince,

Of those few words, moments long lost in wilderness.

I wish not to bring it back, but bear fruit for today,

Whose seeds time sown years before this today.

 

I’m now out in open, dark land,

Easy it seems, looking at sunlight, you.

Overfilling my pain, your happiness,

Your hopping body and motionless time.

 

Seeing you if I can make it possible,

I’ll get wind of this crawler, me.

I lift my spirits not in pray, but in convention,

I’ll look for me and then I look for you.

Accepting

I’m on the different phase of the world,

And I truly believe that I’ve made it home.

I sense the breath inside me against the world,

I’m truly abducted from outside in a place called home.

I paint a true picture while keeping my eyes closed,

Hearing the tales of failure with both my ears closed.

Jumping and wailing and letting the world truly know,

A story of mine carefully curated if I truly know.

Trusting that truth shall deliver not but broken promises,

Waiting as long before I deliver my life before it’s dead.

Today I ain’t getting the answer forged against some promises,

I won’t get it even long after this soul is dead.

Walk of Life

A little about the walk of life will be told,

The scent of which is inherent in all,

Wherever will be the sound of the music,

You will paddle through waves like a moment ago.

 

Well touched and written about it are books,

Often what seen and felt is never forgotten,

And set inside the travelling heart of all,

Are values, gifts and laughs all round the horizon.

 

One peels off the bad lucrative chin of thoughts,

Lands in the dustbin of forgotten memories,

There where no side is taken, none borrowed,

Lies the sight of God in its full glimmer.

 

Look back don’t you, pass over the present,

Like a clean, shiny mirror speaking nothing but truth,

That one won’t die without a word in the mind,

Of chances there aren’t to forget their’s.

 

So drunken in silence I’m today, out loud my ears heard,

I can’t let go off my veil before the shine of tomorrow,

I rest calm on my bed journeying around the world,

So damn is the challenge, takes nothing but me after all.

 

To the walk of life, I stay stiff still sleeping in the noon,

Watching and crying over elasped moons,

To the age of wisdom, bold and powerful,

I arrest my attitude, laid back and laggard.

To where I scrupled before attending a thought,

So bleak in diffusion and slow to arrange,

Wild ideas, opinions and life of mine’s,

But here in stays slowly to create a sense of change!

Making Me Small

Wondering down the memory lane,

With my both eyes blinking in awe,

I send some sharp sickles to the past,

Trying to look after the young age, of course.

 

It’s evening it seems like looking out of the window,

When will my heart open to know what there is outside?

And if I know better than what I know now,

Will it ever seem to make a difference?

 

Hitting the road hard with constant thump of foot,

I recall myself making my weight large.

While I sneak as soft as I could in those eyes,

Those small shades of truth make me feel hollow.

And then I take alarm of a chance,

That once taken will never be repeated,

But then of course, lies and deceit is all that I do,

And make sure it doesn’t make sense at all!

 

I appear in the light of today,

Glistening by the charm of my words,

I bend before my virtue as I do,

Not make a chaos towards a different truth.

 

With little mind of mine wailing to see a tomorrow,

Calling it a day where future is foreseen,

Thanks if I don’t pay attention,

To the offer of the world of making me small.

Together

Taking a nap I’ll move,

If I’m little more inspired to.

Wincing on the words I prayed with,

I’ll pull my sleeve and bear the cage!

 

 

Strutting down the winter woods,

With friends and foes chattering together,

I’ll lead with colour white on my face,

And let them paint me with their words I say!

 

 

Below the grass I’ll lie,

And ask why I be the light in this darkest time?

Then meddle with the purest of the past,

And weave the cool calmness of today as the untruth!

 

 

I’ll not laugh it’s easy enough,

And put the words in other’s mouth.

I’ll end these worthless words in this way,

Within this little bower of today’s togetherness!

Still Sleeping

Where is the air to rest our nose on,

Is it there where I’ll go easy on the dink of life?

 

An internal look is essential to fill this blank paper,

Or else with these breaths I’ve, I’ll be nothing.

To sleep would a mistake less acceptable,

More will be abiding by the hidden rules of the world.

 

There I’ll walk and stop at the top,

And will see a time going by my side.

Pleasure if I’ll be mine and I write what I want,

To fill this idea of break free, let it not!

Of chances will never come again to smile,

And get smile for your great work done again!

 

Beginning from if I go, somewhere I please,

And keep on going and creating distance,

Till I won’t know what will be therein to happen,

Till I lose a heart so weak of mine,

A time rotten with ample of shine,

A little step ahead to where I’ll end,

Or a buffer pushing to look for more,

I’ll not know what will happen.

And that will be the beauty of it.

 

But what to know and what to hear,

You don’t but I see,

I’m still sleeping.