"Beauty is truth,
truth beauty,
that is all Ye know on Earth,
that is all Ye need to know..." - John Keats


Saturday 26 June 2010

Thorns of Destiny...

And so all was said and done...
Things stood quite still for a moment...
The lady who spoke for so long,paused,
catching her breath,gulping down a few drops of water...
Now it waited,the long wait,
the wait of response....
It waited desperately,
the second's thorn of revolving destiny,
it waited yearning for man to perform a miracle,
in the unforgiving stillness of that moment...

All was silence,
with those heads bowed down,
with weight some,
some with pain some more,
some with deliberation,
and some for the sake of it...

Silence,silence that pierced through the hearts of those hundreds standing,
silence that thundered hard,
harder than the hardest thunder...
Silence,that was instilled by her voice...

Everyone,bowed their head,
out of shame,
pain,grief and lamentation...
Some lifted with a quiet decisiveness,which instilled hope...

One or two let out a small syllable of hope...

With this cue,the thorn of destiny,moved on...
The thorn,the quill,the arm of time,
it went ahead,and proclaimed with assurance,
telling to those masses,that change has come...

Lady smiled,
but oh! Alas!
The circling karma of man,
the cycle of human complacency...

The shamefaced bowing heads lifted with the next second,
they pressed down the heads,far lifted...
Scattered voices of hope were extinguished in another second...
And in the next the common man's hope...

Second moved on,
sighing the inevitable hopelessness...
The crowd moved on,
impervious to the wet blood...
The shamefaced rose again...

Another massacre occurred,
and the wise Lady came up,
to voice across their shame...

And in an instant,all was still...
And the game again,began...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Monday 21 June 2010

Their Story...

Caressing her daughter and hugging her,
her mother assured that everything was fine...

The sack on her back had gotten lighter,
the weight in her arms lighter,
and pain in her heart not so lucky...

But she smiled,as they had walked a long way.
It had been days since her husband died,
it had been days since she conspired...

They had fled,these desperate lot...
They had come into the forest,green and hot...
They had walked miles,
they had slept not...

For days only rest was an hour under a tree...
Now they were near,
near that fence...
Where freedom lay,was said in a sense...

Noone knew what freedom was like,
for they hadn't met it since a long age...
She wondered what lay beyond that wire,
where every grass was green,
and every stone sapphire...

They slept that day under the bough...
The girl rested on the lap of her mother...

Next morning they set out to see the trench,
that was dug to divide freedom from their stench...
They climbed into the ditch,which meant to divide,
and cut through the fence which was sharp and wide...

They set their tools as they entered freedom,
and rejoiced out there,beyond the stench of ditch...

They sang their triumph in reaching their goal,
but a girl cried aloud amidst their celebration...

And motor van came ahead,to face them on the road...
And down came the guns and knives they had left home...

After fifteen seconds of clamour and clicks,
was left this girl and a few more kids...

The guns and knives took them in,
and left their mothers and fathers,
fallen in the bin...

They took them they said to a land unknown,
and traded their flesh for gold and stone....

This is the story,
of the people who sought him,
who promised to be there,
beyond the fence...

Now I guess,that is what is life...
They did find him,
when they passed, away from sin...
They found him in a pool of crimson ink...
They found him,
the one who called himself in their stories 'freedom'...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Music of God...

Is it for the day to show us what light is?
Is it for the night to describe the veil that is dark?
Is it for the rain to touch us,
and smell earthly sweet?

Is it for the mountains to show us,
the heights that she reach?
Is it for for oceans to make us,
dive into such peace?

Is it there in the heat,of a dusty summer's day?
Is it in the freezing wind,or the cloudless sky?
Is it in the shadowy bow,
or an open dell?

Is it in the glimmering pond,
or in a beast's den?
Is it there in the breeze,
or is it in the skies?

Is it coming along,
like a rainbow which sighs?

Even as I speak and ask,
even as I wonder and marvel this treat...
I see it inside of me...

I witness the miracle of me,
I feel the wonder of a miracle called we...

I listen to its music,
in the harmony divine,omnipresent...

And I ask if its true,
is it really around?

An angel from heaven,
a maiden living in a sea...
A blessing to human,
and to all that's earthly...

Music of God,
wondrously green...
And beauty which ought
be called serene...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Tuesday 15 June 2010

Stop flirting with my shadow...

Stop flirting with my shadow...
Yes! you heard me right,
I said stop flirting with my shadow...

You got windows to break,
You say,you kill for god's sake...
You slither like a night snake...
Yet...
Yet you won't stop flirting with my shadow...

You may have got greener meadows,
we may have greater widows...
You may laugh at my misery,
you smirk at my pain...
Yes,don't pretend!

Don't call me your brother,
and my children your nephews and nieces,
when you but did kill their mother...

Yes,you have taller buildings,
I know that,I too can see...
You may have taller buildings,
We may have longer queues...

Yes,this is all means is alright,
but stop flirting with my shadow...

You may want my diamonds,
to gift your pretty wife...
You take that diamond,
which shall in time be black...

You take it away, from my hands,
and I pay the price with my life...
So,for now at least,
stop flirting with my shadow...

You may laugh at my lot...
You may end some of us...
But know one thing child,
you have come from us...

I forgive your sins,
I forget your claims...
I close my eyes,
to the pain that remains...

Now my children are crying,
bullied by your lot...
I need to help them,
so leave me be...

I say this again,
though I am dead and gone....
Stop flirting with my shadow...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Saturday 5 June 2010

Hero's Song...

What of the heroes,I ask...
Those who fought,those who died...
We remember them...
Songs sung at every Church,
stories told at every inn...
Those heroes of whose lives,the stories,
those pains of lost friends,
those memories which have haunted their sleeps...
People know how they fought,
what they did,
but do they know what they got... in return?

These soldiers if asked of valour,say,
'losing friends and peaceful nights
for the greed and malice of leading minds,
we don't want that name and price,
for which we lose our brothers' lives...
We were better-off farming and going out in the nights,
singing at home,
playing with our children,
watching the stars and the pale moonlight...
But what now have we left after that strife?...
There is no peace,
long bereft,since the day I watched my friend
when he left...
Now only shadow lingers in the sleepless nights,
where I always bereave for those who died...
He watched out for me,
he wished me luck,
and so I cry every night,
why just him and not me beside,
why just him and not me beside...
What is the glory meant in our lives?
We want no glory,or no praise,
we just wish,it was like the old days,
where we all were happy and slept in the night...
Now what have left I without my friends,
nightmares and pains that never get erased,
no peace exists for these 'heroes',as on that day
it left with our friends' lives...
On that day,we lost our smiles...'

This mu friend,is what a soldier sang,
a hero for us,but a restless mind,
this my friend is a hero's life,
sacrifice and pain that we don't understand...
This my friend is the lament of the hero of the common man...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

The Last Song...

Yes,it was to be so...
Hail Mary,mother of Grace...
Yes,it was meant to be thus...
Hail Mary,full of Grace...

He wept,aye,he wept dry tears...
Sunken face,his woeful boon,
ghastly past,his violent cocoon...

The lad yonder,were friends with the doctor,
he saved his life for three more seconds...
Hail Mary,full of Grace...
He came this morning
straight from his marriage,
now he lies,dirtied in thin noon...
He laid to rest,
with his friend,
both dead,on that unknown lagoon...

This redneck,right here,
he sleeps...
He was put to sleep,
because he gave his chocolate...
He gave his chocolate
to daughter of the enemy...
Aye,he had,but the chance,to go beneath,
his sandbag,but...
But,he stayed...

He stayed for one more second,
to save that yellow human,
whose father he had come to fight...
Now he rests,now,aye he rests,
shot by the hand,
that should have thanked him
for his humane act...
Hail Mary,full of Grace...

Ah! here lies the robust soldier,
courage spoken unto his bassoon...
He fought this battle,
fierce,like the shadow of the nocturnal moon...
His fears,unknown,
his pain,unseen,
his love,never felt to be existent...
Yet,he who died of the valour,
aye,folly indeed...
He died of that valour,
which saved many,
but ended with him,
lying to wait for the worms...
Hail Mary,full of Grace...

Now,it is so,
that people had blamed,
he had no friends...
People despised him,
for he survived...
People avoided his ghostly presence,
for he made it...

Now he is destroyed,
things have moved on,
his story,unsung,
his brothers' departure unnoticed...

Now,he is at peace,
peace-less life,less than human...
Of course it is so,
it do is less than human,
aye,it is this soldier's life...
Aye,it is these soldiers' life...

Unsung,unknown,unnoticed,
but always there,
present,all around our safe nights,
peaceful,
I cannot say,
but sure,
we live and they die...
Hail Mary,full of Grace...

Peace,forsaken,apathy of God,
dirt- what remains of man,in man and for man...
But the day,
those soldiers laid down their lives,
the day,they,I heard,
they sang their last song,
and I heard them say,with the gratitude
for the end of their plight,
I heard them pray,
'Hail Mary,full of Grace'
and so they moved with peace,
into the Kingdom of Light...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju