Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Love and Knowledge

If you are such pure of heart and candid
To speak out the murky secret of your birth
Then be sure you are the son of a wise
And who can refuse your candidature.

So goes the parable when the sage of yore
Put his stamp of authority on a low-brow
Upturned a whole lot of norms and conventions
And heralded out-of-the-box truth perceptions.

Who the whore, who father and who’s progeny
Why the stigma, what enigma of love and sin?
The tussle of gene and gender astirs reason
And should learning be for a select only?

The wise anchored and vindicated uncensured
Even after his fall albeit pleasurable
And she has the birthright to rent her womb
Without any trace of shame to serve whoever

Teacher and disciple and master and maid
The wise and the whore and an unwed mother
Wives and families and the bliss of ignorance
Untruths, deceptions and mask of morality.

All are in ferment in this small episode
What to pardon and who to blame is not easy
From music to massage it has many masks
To hive off the safe-ways, must we legalize?

The son when grows up might follow his father
His hallowed education would goad him ever
Notwithstanding his occasional failings
Knowledge is a whip, good for all seasons.


At the end of umpteen performances
Once you realize one fine morning
That it is not an end in itself
And the real key is disinterestedness
You are born anew.

Thousand masks you have worn
Tossing a new demeanour every evening
Dishing out fresh imitations
But today is different and difficult
You must act yourself.

In the Sublime lies the real pretension
And true superiority in pure equality
Art is for ascension, an effort
You go through a thorough fitness regimen
That you can run naked.

Amidst crudities aplenty
And everyone angling for assortments
You can go on sampling endlessly
Trying to con the connoisseur in you
But one day one must wake to the call beyond.

There are no options in effect
Awareness signals the right track
One devours just by dispassionate observation
They also serve who simply wait and watch
There is but one way to stay.


Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Either or

The value of land is settled in the mind
Valaya shirts can cost 1500 to 15000
Share prices are a function of sentiments
What if the tribals live on mango kernels?

Paracetamol is new wine for Dispirin
History has two suitors, red and saffron
Barkha vs. burqa, war to publi-size
What’s wrong with tarot or parrots?

Race is biological caste cultural
Law overrides the people’s mandate
Satyagraha damned by the court supreme
What’s the objection against NDA inn?

School is seen as a form of prison
Democracy itself an irrational notion
Positivism no more a prized possession
What is madness, genius or a disease?

Starvation deaths despite of Amartya
Pimping is fair in public interest
People out to see a St. Marx’s order
What is our icon: Ambani or Dr Kurien?

What is politics if not populism
How to reconcile reforms with swadeshi
And teach patriotism to the fringe populace
Dilemma is as old as the Mahabharata.



That’s quite unsettling, especially
In these days of political accuracy
If somebody says something against
The supposed gender equality.

Although in the path of spirituality
Lauded are the traits feminine
But in the world of our own
Of weakness they are the sign.

Male is male, female female
The twain can never resemble
No wonder as symbols of morality
One is obligation and the other aspiration.

The female is earth-bound the male can fly
His trait is to migrate explore and go away
She is more acquisitive he distributive
Man is a nomad women a different breed.

From a room of one’s own to the second sex
There have been attempts to see with kindred eyes
And to compare and contrast only leading to
Varying degrees of exaggeration and over-emphasis.

But why juxtapose the opposites
And compare the chalk with cheese
Besides the biological dissimilarities
They are poles apart as social beings.



For a horse of a race marathon
To pretend to tend a kitchen garden
And feign running by jogging at a spot
It’s all a nice hide and seek game.

To run with the hare and hunt with the wolf
It’s rough and tough to live so dangerously
Yet to stay put is but the Hobson’s choice
For to know how to wait is a heroic trait.

While on the brass-tacks, at times it’s hard to take
That when all seems to be lost that all is saved
But what is this hue and cry, after all
If winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Platitudes galore, irritating and hard-nosed
It’s a dog-eat-dog world, un-humane
And the apparition of the future growing
Larger everyday and ever intimidating.

Of good and bad or art and beauty
Tomes abound by a plethora of authors
Then why is it that Truth Good and Beauty
Stay as distant as ever, the more we aspire.

Log on to love then rather than to logic
That is the cue since time immemorial
Give must not spur any give and take
The time-worn words are the life-giving props.



I am one with all others, though
And a mere ripple in the cosmic ocean
I am the one and only, the unique
All else is alien, none resembles me.

My thoughts and habits and temperament
Impulses emotions passion or action
Are peculiar to me and bear my stamp
None can betray them nor can I share.

My history and my destiny
Traverse a unique track
How many hurdles or how many ladders
The quota is uniquely mine.

The ideas and ideals of some other
Are absolutely specific to him or her
Howsoever I persevere to imitate
It would be surely a futile affair.

I can only tread my way, at my pace
And follow my bliss, as they say
Opportunities golden and visions sublime
Of what use they, if are not mine?

The private space of my consciousness
Must relish its own narcissism
And seek freedom and fulfillment
So as to say I am that I am.

[ Sat-110801]