Born to Die?

Enclosed within natural walls, in near darkness

Drifting within the womb, without direction

The unborn baby trains his eyes,

Ready to step out and face the light.

Half shut eyes, flicker at the warm rays,

The first feel of the outside world.

Colours emerge, figures take shape,

On a quest, to see more, know more.

Looking around, crying out loud,

It’s the sound of life, the voice within,

Announcing his arrival to the world,

The baby is initiated into a world of chaos.

The eyes strain to focus and perceive,

Only to be blinded by the hypocritic light

The ears open up for the experience of sound

Only to be deafened by mad shouts and shrill lies.

Twisting and turning, inside the cage of care,

Disturbed in senses, he gets the first taste of life

His mother’s womb, though dark, was secure,

Now, in open light, the baby feels lonely.

There was little he could do, to change,

It was his time to break out of natural captivity,

Walk out into the world, into freedom,

Walk on, with a free body, yet a captive spirit.

Festivities all around, celebrating his birth

Crowd of onlookers, looking at him in awe

Even though he is the cynosure of attention,

The baby feels himself pushed into a corner.

The prying eyes, the hollow smiles

Makes him confused, makes him wonder,

“Should I laugh? Should I cry?,

Wish I could laugh at their false faces!”

Burdened by worldly confusion and chaos,

The baby closes his eyes, on an effort to sleep,

Sleep on, to peace, sleep to shut himself off,

To forget the world, to live in his own dreams.

Born with no choice, he does not feel alive,

Hesitating, he looks back at his mother’s womb,

Shifting his gaze, to her loving eyes, he asks,

“Can you take me back into you, if I choose to return?”

The Shadow

Light plays havoc, with me, my self

Laying out, my dark side, on the ground

The black alter-ego looms large with time

Before disappearing silently, into the dark night

The silent observer, the passive friend

Lurking around me, marking my presence

Cooling the earth with my caricature

He outlines my figure, with a virtual ink

Born of light, drawn off my lanky frame

The earth is a canvas, for the art in monotone

Seldom appreciated, the artist hides among clouds

Seldom noticed, the art sprawls over mother earth

Convulsing and changing, with the passing time

Sans expression, sans emotions, he exists

Reminds me of my life, on a topsy-turvy ride

In a world, sans expression, sans emotions

With each passing day, he is becoming more of me

Or am I becoming more of him?

I pray to the source, “Let there be no light”

Let me feel myself, let me be myself!!!