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Sunday, February 22, 2009

The Journey

The challenges are plenty &
the hindrances indomitable,
In the hope of discovery of one more second,
one goes on living and living,
may be something might just come
and soothe my nerves or
the journey would go on as meaninglessly as it was.

Pain is the only happiness

Pain is the only happiness I know,
Flowing on the rhythm ,
that is timelessness and memory of beauty woven together,
I feel the hollowness of incompleteness.

Never could I know the meaning of daily living,
It’s a contract signed to unknown entity,
Which, like a bonded labour,
I cann’t break.

Softness on its bed of pulsating waves,
Penetrates the bones of my body with the beats of melody,
I suffuse it with the anguish of my entire being
Creating music of writhing pain.

I am my own child,
Loving, nourishing, kicking and caring myself,
It’s an arduous task,
To know and understand everything,
And yet not be able to act.

Friend!( if there is any), Can I ask you something?
pain, incapacity and hopelessness might be universally present,
but could you please ask them not to trouble me anymore?

Who you are?

Who knows whether I have lost you or not,
The truth is that I am deeply touched,
You have entered into the depth of my being,
Why did you do so?

When have I said that life is a bed of roses?
Neither have I only looked at flowers alone.
But tell me, should thorns be the only reality
Of life? the big complex battle with the self and surrounding?

Know that you are special,
You are there in the elegance of the beautifully dressed
Escort of the bride,
You are there in the dance of a smiling inviting charm,

Know that you are not ordinary,
You are not even extraordinary,
How can I say what you are?
Cause, if I could explain and define you,
I could define my self
And all that is beautiful and worth admiring
In this world.

When the wind is against me

When the wind is against me,
I feel the pain, but i don't want wind to be as per my whims,
let it blow wherever it blows,
blessed are they who don't writhe in pain,
the nature hates me, my own people hate me,
I won't say anything,
let this pain crush me.

Life has been full of excruciating pain,
i could never really know,
what i wanted,
what is the use of rain when the crops are ripe?

I could never give happiness to others,
they were my own people,
they wanted a simple happy life,
i didn't know what to want.
I gave them my pain,
they could never love me for that.

This too is gone,
which has again torn me,
i am a playground for god's experiments,
played upon and upon.

Lucky are those,
who have got the flower,
the cuckoo, the love, the abundance of rainy shower,
they are blessed truly,
i am bound to think,
i never knew what to get,
but always missed what i didn't have
Creative Commons License
This work by Chaitanya Jee Srivastava is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at chaitanya-insearch.blogspot.com.