Life’s Trivial Questions

Life is to live or to live is life. Does it matter?

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Life’s Trivial Questions 

Few thoughts:

Question is not “To be or not to be”

Life is to live or

To live is life,

I live to eat or

Eat to live,

Questions aplenty,

Answers do not matter.

Can’t go back,

Time travel is a myth.

Only option is to move forward,

Till it’s time to part.

Searching for those fleeting moments,

When sunshine brought some peace.

Is it too much to ask,

For a little of those moments,

Or do I just eat to live?

Imperfect Image

Are we created in the image of the creator or our imperfections had created an imperfect image of the creator

Imperfect Image

Born naked,
Pure and innocent.

Immediately without consent,
Wrapped and stamped,
As being created
In the image
Of an unknown,
As defined.

Mind’s virginity lost,
Before even realized
What it meant.

Childhood innocence sacrificed at the alter of
Societal conformist dogma.
Continuously indoctrinated, seduced to believe
Words and rituals.
Follow blindly or you are ostracized.
Difficult to fathom why one loving and most forgiving,
Will be breathing fire and brimstone,
Will punish if you falter, but
Won’t let you not falter.
Why  will the most compassionate one
Demand sacrifice of our fellow travelers
For spreading his glory?
Why promise vain earthly pleasures to followers
Creating deaths and mayhem in his name.
Why idols worshiped by multitudes,
Praying for their peace and prosperity,
Will not stop sacrificing
blood of animals that can not defend themselves
To satiate their thirst.

Justice and righteousness,
Truth and fairness,
Manipulated words, victims of fanatical minds.

Bruised and bettered,
Are we created in the
Image of the perfect one?

Or are we following blindly the
Imperfect Images

Created by  imperfect us?

 

SUNDAY MORNING IN DENTIST’S OFFICE

Sunday morning in Dentist’s Office

Winter morning
Sunday
Grey sky
Dark and cold
Inviting warm bed
Disheveled from a
Long night’s tossing and turning
I would rather be here
Then be in my
Dentist’s Office.

Long drive
Thoughts drifting to
The pot of brewed coffee
On the kitchen counter
Slowly dragged myself
To my dentist’s office

Warm, radiant smile
Welcoming hygienist
Stretched my body
On the inviting chair
Whirring  of the drill
Pinging of the water pick
The small talks
Napping
Drifting in and out
Mild growling in my tummy
Thoughts of a warm, spicy breakfast
Yummy
Not as bad as I thought
Sunday morning in my dentist’s office.

Holiday Parking Lot at the Mall

Holiday Parking Lot at the Mall

Time at a standstill
Life crawling at snail’s pace
Something boiling inside
Amidst it all
Tranquility.

Realization setting in slowly
Rising frustration
Helplessness
Can’t abandon my place
In this meandering centipede

Cacophony of sound and light
Elderly gentleman shuffling slowly
Bag in hand, glancing back and forth.

Expectant eyes following his every move
Moving ever so slowly
Not to miss the slot he vacates
Oh dear! What a letdown.
Unexpected uncertainties of life
Not the exit, but the entrance he turns.

A ripple of smile comes down the line
An undulating wave down the spine
Suddenly the head comes alive
And the crawling centipede starts to glide
Oh! how we enjoy disappointment of others.

Like a Zen Buddhist deep in meditation
Eyes focused in reaching exalted destination
We move slowly
Time is of no essence

Suddenly a ray of light ahead
Turn hard and squeeze in fast
Nirvana
Destination at last
I got a slot
On holiday
At the mall parking lot.

Street Side Cafe

Street Side cafe

A kaleidoscopic collage of life,
Scurrying around their daily lives.
Observing.

Seating alone in a street side cafe,
Subconsciously conscious.
Conspicuous,
Brown skin, beard and a hooded shirt.

Lady with a head scarf,
Child holding her hand,
Furtive glance, apprehensive,
As she goes out to the street.

Banker, impeccably dressed,
Cell phone to the ear,
Briefcase in hand.
Apprehensive, suspicious,
As he hurriedly goes in
For his morning cup of joe.

A packet wrapped in green plastic
Left on a table.
More apprehensive glances.
Afraid.
Roll of newspaper
Left by someone.

Our lives will never be normal.
Suspicion eating us all.

Distant wailing of sirens,
People running.
Afraid.

With a heavy heart, step out to sidewalk.
Patrons, breathing a sigh of relief.

Corner from the street side cafe,
Flashing lights,
Paramedics and police cars,
Some drunk driver has just ran a red light.

Storm

Storm

There was a storm here yesterday,
And I saw this tree
Bereft of all the beautiful colored foliages,
Strewn all around it on the ground.
One leaf was clinging to a branch
Quivering in the winds, trying to hang around.
I wanted to tell that single leaf,
Hang on, winter will be over and in spring
All your friends will come back with new hope,
Spreading happiness to all who come by.
I promised that on my way back home,
I will pick up that single leaf
and keep it between the pages of my book
till spring comes and everything will be happy again.

Mom, I am sorry I will not be coming back home.
Not to-day, not ever.
Little did I know the evil storm coming for me,
To rob me of my spring forever.

There was no warning, nowhere to hide.
The evil came from everywhere,
and when the storm was over
like the fallen leaves around the tree
We were all lying there.

Alas, unlike the tree
Spring will not bring back rejuvenation.
From here on it’s a long dark winter.
Mom, it’s cold, damp and dark here,
How I wish for your warm embrace,
But it’s not going to be

All around me I see dark shadows
All who have come here before me
From four corners of the world
From every nationalities.

Unanswered questions
Will remain unanswered.
(Because) those brokers of peace and death,
Those clad in the grab of patriotism and religion,
Clad in the grab of nationalities and language,
Will lip sync to “Never Again”.

Yes Mom, it will never again be spring for me.
But till the day every parent takes a stand,
To teach the real meaning of peace and respect
To their child,
This storm will visit many other unfortunates,
To rob them of their spring.
Mom, it is too dark and cold here.
Will the summer sun warm me up ever?
Mom, do not grieve.
Like the leaf between the pages of the book,
Do not keep me hidden in your heart.
Be my voice and shout to the world, NEVER AGAIN!
Do not allow another storm
To blow away thousand springs.
And when your work is done,
And time for a well deserved rest has come,
Look for that lonely leaf,
I will be waiting for thee.