MASK

MASK

We live in an era where the word mask has become ubiquitous.  However this poem was written in another time, not very long ago. It was written in December of twenty fourteen, just about six years back.  Then it got lost among lots of others amidst many that I wrote and did not complete or was discarded.  Few days back as I was rummaging through some of my old folders, I found this and found it to be surprisingly complete.  I think this still have relevance today, albeit not in a sense that we associate masks with now a days.

The moment we entered the world

We are marked.

Labels defined us at every step.

We are sons, daughters, brothers, sisters.

 

Every step we made, every progression,

Got labeled and defined for us.

We are smart, fool, lazy, successful.

Labeled nicely in boxes as per societies’ norms.

World as we know,

Won’t let us live as ourselves

Break those norms,

We are labeled as rebels, misfits,

To be put down with all their might.

 

Conform or perish,

Lead or follow,

Succeed or fail,

Be religious (whatever it means),

Or rot in hell (as if enough hell is not created in this world).

 

Every step we take,

Yardsticks are out to measure

Our fit to a new label.

We are not allowed to be ourselves.

Deified or demonized or in between.

 

We are all wearing a mask,

Masking us from ourselves

In this journey through life.

Blissfully unaware that

Anonymous we came and

and will leave to anonymity.

 

At journey’s end,

These masks of label,

Won’t be of any use to us.

 

Flame of hate: RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge #276 Smoke&Water

This post is in response to Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge .

Smoke of hate rises

Water won’t clean fanatics

Stench of burning flesh

 

Pour holy water

Everything will be OK

Religious smoke screen

 

Haiku Challenge Image

Past is History, Not a Mystery

For those that past is not history but a mystery

Anything that can’t be explained a miracle

At the drop of a hat those who are ready

To confer divinity to reformers of the past

But are ready to punish and instill fear of death

On the followers of reformers of modern age

Heretics and hearsay if you question the past

Are we to believe that everything modern is foolish

And ignore the witch hunts and killings of the past

In the names of the divine and almighties

Fie to those for whom the past is a crutch

To crush any discourse and dissent

Fie to those who will not leave any stone unturned

To keep humanity shackled in fear of an all merciful

Past has becomes a tool in the hands of the powerful

To keep legions in line as blind followers

Reformers, yes! Enlightened humans they were.

We the ignorants put them in pedestals

Covering our eyes with religious blinds

Walking hobbled in our daily life

Looking for a saviour to save our souls

While the merchants of death

Paddle the past as pillars of faith

Wish:Week Forty One of My Fifty Two Weeks Journey with the Letter ” W”

Wish it would not have happened. Wish things would have turned out to be different. Wish the country we love would not be marching towards being a hotbed of archaic policies reversing all the progress made in recent past.  But if wishes would have been horses…

No point weeping over what happened.  What was not supposed to happen, did happen.  Pundits were proved wrong.  Religious rights holding their noses, in their pursuit for the control of the womb, voted for a man who would hardly fit the definition of a religious person.  What a hypocrisy. This election, for all intents, was fought only on one issue by the conservative rights, for a total control of SCOTUS for next few decades.  The person who tweeted vigorously in 2012 against the electoral college, will be elected the 45th president not on the basis of popular votes, but on the basis of the archaic garbage of history carried over from the founding of the first democratic country of the world. What an irony.

I was thinking of skipping my post for Write Anything Wednesday today.  But what is the point of weeping alone.  Saw many posts on my reader about the election.  The tune of all the posts were more or less similar, a nostalgic wish for a different result.  But wishing alone will not change the result.

Wishing is one thing and working towards achieving one’s ideals another.  To that end, I chose the word “Wish” as the starting word of my poem for week forty one of my fifty two weeks journey with the Letter “W”.

I feel good that I decided to write my blog today.  It had lifted my gloom, tomorrow is another day and I am ready to face it, come what may.


This post is in response to Write Anything Wednesday-Nov-9-2016 sponsored by Writerish Ramblings