The life of man

 Thou shalt not laugh,

Nor shalt thou cry;

Thou shalt not reason, nor yell;

Thou shalt not praise heaven,

Nor canst thou speak ill of hell.

O! Listen! Man of earth!

Know your place, and act;

As would an unconscious shell-

Of nothingness-

With no stories of a life to tell!

Listen to the master of your soulless being,

For else … does it not ring a bell?

[Hint: she will land you in the best of hell,

Of eternity’s potential well.]

Sophos-1

 A year has passed in a blink-

O! Not an ordinary year with the sun,

Aimlessly roaming through the lands-

But a year of light, and one of joy,

With a gem of life in our hands!

Crawling through the times,

‘Has been the year of Sophos the Sage;

Mustering up the courage to crawl,

Through life’s every page.

The paradox of choice

How times have changed,

And choices enlarged;

Of the things and beings around,

That seemingly abound!

I see it here and I see it there;

‘Tis everywhere for me to stare,

As through the window in a shopping store,

With a scanty access to the share,

But with the illusion of choice to the more!

Once in a blueshift

From a million redshift
And a memory so dim-
Of a cherished past-
The star of hope I saw gleam.
O! Star of light twinkle more,
Dark forces of the cosmos enlighten!
Refocus the energy of being,
Into an infinite event horizon.
Go supernova!
And light up the night,
Let the past tremble
At future’s might!
Into the tiniest of times
Let the present shrink,
So the blueshifting past 
And the future re-link.

The Plague

 More than the global pandemic

Ripping through the lands;

Worse than the mighty torpedoes

Blowing away the offshore sands;

Angrier than the summer fires

Burning through the wild;

Or the highest tsunamis

That have the seas riled;

We have a plague of global concern-

And not the kind hard to discern-

Not air-bone, nor of the stars,

But inbred amongst human kind;

In the form of tribal wars

Of every form, and of every find.

Not of the rats, and not of the genes,

But the nurtured idiosyncrasies

Raging through us all-

Damaging body and soul-

Is the new plague:

Of clanism

Of tribalism

Of racism

Of fascism

Of otherism.

The cats that were

The cats lived,
And the cats died.
But in between:
They meewed, they ate;
They drank, they lied.
They chased, got chased,
Had happy days and sad;
They then left the stage
To those that never had.

Fragile

The truth might be hard and dry,
And the prospects might seem so bleak;
Alas! truth be damned life is fragile,
And though oft brutish, humankind is weak!
You might be poor, and you might be kind;
You might be rich, or of royal birth;
Or you might be the hardest working one can find;
You might be short, and the handsomest on the land;
Or that shabby chap with a deformed girth.
You might be athletic today,
Or you might be living with a broken heart;
You might be healthy and clean,
Or you might be full of the biggest of dirt.
You might think you have all the beauty,
As if, my fellow fragile being, it lasts for eternity!
Or you might feel sad and down of heart;
Filling yourself with all the pity!
But, you see, if there is one constant in all these,
It is that unexpected known,
Where the cry and laughter,
The rich and the poor,
The sick and healthy,
The diligent and wise, the fool and lazy,
Vanish into forever-after,
With equalized nothingness.