The kingdom and The river.

The walls ran thin, the bells don’t ring,

The kingdom of life is lifeless indeed,

And the river that gave it beautiful memoirs, 

Is now the adversary in the kingdom’s creed. 
Sun is up mocking the sight,

The veins of kingdom being flooded by sorrow, 

Yet the bell beater one feel droughty, 

Waiting at verge of less painful morrow. 
Shredding of sins, from the skin akin,

Purifying in a way that condemns the living, 

Yet the beating one feel righteous, 

Even though she is unforgiving. 
My beating one, longs for the one, 

With whom he drew his own kingdom, 

Where the rivers ran with gilt, guilt of pride, 

The kingdom which accepted her as his bride. 
The kingdom forgot that river takes turns, 

On the to him the river churns, 

Of morrow, of yester, of that wicked pastor, 

Who dipped in the river in the name of holy scripture. 
The commoners of kingdom refused to believe, 

That the river ran dry for a pitiful deed, 

From the love of whom the kingdom was built, 

Has left the kingdom in search of guilt. 
From the Whys and whens

to there and then, 

The river of life averted her path, 

Towards a morrow more beautiful than last. 
The kingdom which never had a river, 

Is waiting now for the rains and simmers, 

Maybe the river will come back once again, 

Even if she comes to drown the kingdom within, 

The kingdom will blemish for the final embrace, 

The river will end the sorrows of the concourse, 

The kingdom will be buried under the river’s bed,

And the urn of the ashes will sing in river’s Grace. 

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The Silence of World. 

The world became silent, 

When the cursed ones were cursing the rest, 

When the zoos ran out of pets, 

When the roads of life became grave of dead,

The world stood silent, resting at the edge. 

The world screamed for hunger and home, 

The world loved those painful portraits and poems, 

When the child in picture died outside of the cage,

The world stood silent, resting on the edge…
When the rape raged the rumours of recitals, 

When the masks of humans hid the tumors from trials,

When the apes aged and ate ablest, 

The world stood silent, resting on edge.. 

When the father and mother were thrown, 

From the house they built and the love they homed, 

The children who claimed that house in zest, 

The world stood silent, resting on edge..
When the widows wailed for the waiving warriors, 

And the sun stood shining sinning in somber, 

When the chest of pride were left to rot, 

Then the world came yelling, for the righteous frost.

Waiting for a Miracle!

Oh god, oh god, where is the miracle?

Why don’t you tell me where to look?

Guide me to the path, towards pinnacle,

Which stones to turns, to read which books? 
Was is it in the past, when I was blind?

When I was kid, in my mind that wasn’t sane,

When I fought my insanity to become fine,

When the world was less cruel and life was a game. 
Oh Lord, oh Lord, why don’t you tell?

Just one question and I will be free

Am I the Hero or Villain of this fairy tale?

Or is there a different role in my Destiny?
Where is the miracle? I ask you again,

Is it in the future for which I am prepared?

Where I will dictate the rules of this game.

Where Sun will be obstacle and miracle will be shade. 

Oh God, oh God, reply to me once!

Why this illusion? Why this charade?

Why make me dull? Why make me dunce?

Why are you making me walk in this naked parade?

“The miracle exists and I have given it you, 

I have presented you with quil of your destiny, 

Why do you cry my child, why looking for clues?

Why beat yourself in the invisible game of mutiny?” 
Daily prompt- Waiting

Brave New World.

Urgent Message to World! To the Brave New World!”
“Oh God! Why did you hid this book from me?” 

This amazing piece of dystopian future and literature have crafted an image in my mind which is scary and yet so accurate. The Philosopher and writer Aldous Huxley, have played everything so wonderfully accurate that you the world it creates is fairly similar to our reality. I often wonder myself that whether the book 1984 and Brave New World are the blueprints of society. 

The Brave New World has so much power in its pages that it is the evidence of vividly known idiom, “Pen is mightier than sword.” 

It will not be fair and even justified to the reader if I accidentally reveal something from the book; hence I refrain myself from speaking about the literature it is concealing. 

Yet the ideologies and the structure doesn’t let it wander in Dystopian Fiction. I really feel compelled to tell you, instead I will WARN you that the book will, at several points will have you confused and connected to the world around you. 

I have found the map to blueprints of something I believe is of greater importance and I will continue to explore. 
If you have the void created by functioning of society then this book will help fill the hole with delicacy. You will need an open mind, you will have to discard the theories and your egos to dive in the depth of words waiting for you. BUT, this adventure is worth it. 

I dare! 

How many of you have been bullied? If you were bullied, then I am not sorry. I don’t have slightest guilt or remorse to offer. Because if I had read about you, or heard about you, I would have done what most of the people do.. “Tsk-Tsk… poor soul”. And I might have said few things about how it’s bad and how we should not do it. But is that all? That’s it? That’s fu**ing it!? Someone died, someone has been troubled just because he is different and all you could do is move the muscle of your tongue and make that sound. 

We both know you will do that again, and trust me I know that many of the readers have left on that paragraph, calling me dumb names, making fun of me, or doing things that could remotely effect me somehow.. those are the people who pushed that kid in the locker, danced on his desk when he was talking to his friend, made fun when he wanted to be more like his dad or someone more inspiring that “swag” or “Justin Bieber”.
 That little guy you pushed in that locker had bigger dreams than your ego. 
But you couldn’t accept that could you? You wanted to feel superior! And how? By picking up on the guy who just want to be accepted. Who just wanted to be another face in the crowd, not a weird disease, not a clown, not someone who wants to be remembered as trash. You call them, you hurt them, you sometimes even go to hunt them down! Because your ego is more important than his mental health, physical health, and his life.
You don’t care if he is cool in his own way. You don’t care that even after all that you put him through all he wants to make you his friend. Maybe someone he could show his magical world to, someone who would pick that stick from garden and fight some Dragon before calling him weird. But to you it’s all just stupid, isn’t it? After all, you don’t care about all that, you don’t have the guts to look in the eyes of that kid, now grown up, to even ask for forgiveness. 

But you have little shame in you, don’t you? I am trusting in you at this point, maybe not shame, but regret, guilt, that is eating you up. You have imagined walking down the corridor in his shoes and you have imagined how would it have felt if you were the one to get the beating for no reason. 
Maybe you have that guilt, maybe your child is being bullied, or maybe he took after you and became a bully. Ask him, talk to him, you don’t want to have the same regrets like you have. He needs someone who could guide him, like you needed someone who could have guided you. 
Be a parent. Don’t encourage bullying. 

Daring

Value of sacrifice. 

One should always value oneself more than the sacrifice. Sacrifice reside in the deed not the world itself. What’s the point of sacrifice when it’s Value is worthless. 
It doesn’t ask, it doesn’t preach. 

It doesn’t hide, it doesn’t seek. 

It lies to eyes, in light it denies,

It’s not that far, it’s quite near indeed. 
It lies in the glass which a mother rejects by lying,

It lies in the blanket when there is nothing to hide, 

It lies in the bread harder than concrete,

Value of the sacrifice lies in the deed. 
It hides in the smile of the lonely mother,

It lies in the courage of tortured daughter,

It’s denies the right to the preacher in guise,

Value of the sacrifice lies in the deed. 
It finds its way in the brothers’ quarrel,

It finds it’s bay in the drunkard’s barrel, 

It hides from out the player best of greed,

Value of the sacrifice lies in the deed.
It stays in the pride of painful back, 

It stays in on the cheek crimson after slap, 

And it surely doesn’t live in the group of Holy beads. 

Value of the sacrifice lies in the deed.

Graceful Shiva.

Om namah shivay.

May Lord Shiva enlightens your path and guide you away from destruction.

I bow to Shiva ask for blessings,

For the sins he eradicates,

And his ways of teaching.

Neither a god, nor a father, not even a teacher nor a disciple,

I bow my head in his feet that are divine,

As he destroyed my cunning rivals.

His hand that gave me blessings and shelter,

How he gulped the poison churned from the sea,

And how he contained Ganga, in his hair, in the time of disaster.

How he dances and how he remains calm,

How we look up to him for patience and virtue,

How he transfuses the energy from his palm.

For he is the might Shiva, the warrior and a sage,

For he is yogi and for whom we are same,

Who doesn’t discriminate among the mortals,

Who didn’t became the king to propel.

The Lord of destruction, the Lord of salvation,

Told us how he is not complete without Shakti,

We bow to him who is Shiva.

The third eye of his, omnipresent in universe,

His blue throat proof of his patience,

His rage which contains earth’s destruction.

I bow to Shiva, the Nataraj, the elite,
And I bow to Shakti, without whom Shiva is incomplete.

Graceful

Dilemmas! Necessity of evolution.

Now you see child, why dilemmas are necessary. 

Why they are required for the growth of humanity. 

They give humans a chance! To pick among the two. 

Former or the latter, which truth is true.
Once there was a child, 

To be a grown up he cried, 

His dilemma was simple,

He grew up and regretted his life. 
Once was a solider,

Hasty on the border,

He had to choose between brother or border. 

He killed the former and chose the latter. 
Once was a man, kind and gentle, 

He was the priest of the highest temple, 

He had to choose between purity and virtue. 

He fed the child and let the stone die of hunger. 
Once was a king, of a realm unknown, 

The plague had his kingdom blown, 

He had to choose desertion and death, 

He left the kingdom to rot, and long he was gone. 
The tales are many, the truth are few, 

Truth is the morning, lies are the dew,

Now you have the chance, to choose between the two. 

Former the or latter? Which one is true?

Dilemma

Pretender. The dumb-charade.

Paradigms of periods preconceive perhaps,

Regardless rejoining, rejecting rejoice, 

Eliminating elements egocentric to every-

Time, to tell the tale to the treachery’s teacher too. 

Engaged eloping from eccentric end. 

Neither nonsense nor nuance, nor 

Denouncing deeds, destroying democracy.

Egging the eyes of enemies equally energized. 

Readily red redemption; reeking of rendered rendezvous. 

Daily prompt.
Pretend

Idiotic child. 

Where did those days went where love was a cookie and fear was a monster.

Where did that time went, homework was easy and naps were funny.

Where one pocket in pants meant we were gonna be rich. 

It didn’t matter if it was dollar or dime. 

Maybe the sun won’t shine again and maybe I won’t be so fine.
Life when was not a puzzle but a pizza with cheese. 

When it was not a debate who is a friend and who is an enemy. 

When games were not so complicated, 

When politics was just a subject. 

Now we rely on the game of politics and have ourselves saved from fine.

Maybe the sun won’t shine again and maybe I won’t be fine. 
Oh it was easy how simple the life was, 

A few chores now and a chores then and that was enough. 

Mom and dad were always there they weren’t sleeping in ground. 

They were there to hold my hand and spin the things around.

Now they smile, now they dance, only in pictures and films. 

Now they won’t come to save my ass from this paradigm. 

Well maybe the world is not cold and maybe I am not ready to fold. 

But the Sun won’t shine and I won’t be fine and life’s gonna be a bitch.