Rise Of Phoenix

Posted: June 2, 2012 in Psychobabble

In a war between fate and man, the mind is torn.The war shall rage on, As shall time stretch. What begins as a battle Soon becomes a war .The mind once a spectator, Now a victim…
It begins quite slowly. It makes you feel good, It makes you feel strong. And time, simply laughs in the shadows. Marching on valiantly, IImage gather force. I tempt fate, Taunt it even…Time becomes my friend, As I gain speed and I am whisked away. He smiles kindly…
Good things happen. I win battles, Victorious I reap the spoils of war. The riches come fast, The riches come thick. I look down at the vanquished. My ego strong as a brick…
A deal is made silently..I slumber in ignorance…A deal so devious…Even death is more generous.
As the battle rages one, finally there comes a day. I am close to Fate, all his minions defeated.
“Let’s meet Fate my friend “, Says Time as he strides with me “It’s time we finished this. Too long has this charade been.” Riding high on false victories, I gallop towards the veil…
The figure turns slowly, In a moment all surreal. Fate is no strong king. Nor strong valiant general. Fate was so clever, so veiled, She isn’t man at all! “Let’s end this war My mighty King!” She calls me. “Let’s end it forever.” Enamored, I give in. Lay down my weapons. She smiles at me, I see time smile too…
Then, begins the dance. I am pleased, I’m happy. I’m made to feel I’m the sun the world revolves around. The days drag to months, The months to years. I become blinded, By the love or so I think…Then one day, Fate deals her cards. She plays her Ace, Its spade straight into me. “You are done for my King! For you are of no use, For one such as me anymore. Be gone, or I shall spite you once more!”
Into the dungeons I’m marched..Too stunned to protest. Into the darkness I’m marched. Ironically I was, once King of the light. I look for my confidante, But Time itself has disappeared. For now the end is endless, And the beginning, forgotten. Dreary I break, As I realize my folly. Fate played her game too well…She wanted to play, And I held the cards for her. She needed a jester to entertain her, She needed an informant,That was all I was for her. Soon, realization is dead..Guilt has now taken it’s place. Such is the power of Fate, I blame me in her place…
The word spreads soon. The King’s Knights unite. To save their own, They help as they might.But I am too blinded To see their hands Through my windows of despair, As they call me out. Then one day, An old acquaintance comes by. He hasn’t aged a bit. “It’s Time, my friend” he says. “You have long suffered Son, for your own ignorance. She must learn to fear you out of respect. As you did too.”
He glides across to the wall, Whispers in my ear, “Rise phoenix, rise to life! For now, it is time, for Fate to fall!” My shackles broken, My resolve re-made, He blasts through the wall as The sun blasts through me. I walk out into the light. I see the world as it is. I see what I’ve been missing. I see my Knights smiling, some who I’d only ‘hoped’ to see in shining armor. My heart rises, so does my mind. My heart knows no fear, no sadness, no happiness, no remorse, no guilt. Only resolve…
Then time does The only favor remaining. He offers me a mirror. And says “Go live for what’s worth living.” I look at myself. I look at how I’ve changed. I see what I have become for her. And I remember what I’ve been. Arrogance replaced, By lines of realization. Eyes blinded by infatuation, Now see the truth. The fire within re ignites, The King within commands. My thoughts are mine again. My beliefs hold true. “I shall now revolt! Not for valor” I declare,” Not for courage, But for my castle, and my life!”The battle begins anew. This time, Time plays no games. He simply watches..As the King roars on…
Fate is not crippled though. She now has a new ‘King’. She drives him to fight for his ‘love’, He gallops forward, Unknowing of his plight. I see the soldier gallop..Towards me with might. “I can’t kill another..Not when he knows not, For whom does he truly fight.” I maybe no unicorn, I may be not rare. But I have my Self that makes me, Me..And that I shall not share. “I shall lay down my armor, If I shan’t convince you, That whom you fight for, Shall be the one to destroy you.” The old King shouts out to the new. The new king learns soon as is told…he is guided into the light. He is my Knight now, Together we shall fight…
Fate sees her noble finally become worthy of the name. She seeks another jester, Another she can lame. She sees no other, No other to make hers. She knows no courage to fight..Knowing her loss, she disappears…
Victory is had.I being to rebuild my castle. Fortified for all is stands now, Except those select few, Who shall stride in unchallenged . For they are worthy of it. The rest shall see the king, Yet never truly see. The once open entrance To the heart of the castle, Now leads you to the meadows. You only see the grass, always green on your side. The once open court, Is now closely guarded. For therein lie secrets..Which Fate all knew, used and then discarded. She has now been forgiven. Though forgotten she won’t be…
And at the end of the castle…A very remote place, A place seen from outside as the inside too, But that can’t be visited except by the King himself, Stands a stone statue..An odd one at that. It depicts a beaten down, imprisoned figure Of the King that lives there. It isn’t to appease his ego, It isn’t so he may gaze at himself. It is but a reminder of the time, When he wasn’t himself…
For there is a hole Where his heart should be; And a little bird Beginning to take shape therein. And at the foot of the statue is written…
“From fire to ashes
Slowly as the fire dies,
From ashes to life,
You shall now Rise, Phoenix. Rise”

 

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Peace through Chaos

Posted: December 1, 2011 in Psychobabble
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Peace through Chaos

Random images flitter past,

The mind is a kaleidoscope of thoughts.

The images are hauntingly beautiful,

In reality though , they’re just meaningless blots.

Days of the past seem like vivid scenes,

Playing out in front of me.

I want to go back to that time, that place…

When life was free and I was me.

Yet I stand there plagued,

My mind muddled, my heart confused.

As Chaos reigns supreme I look up to find no answer,

Maybe all my prayers have already been used.

Suddenly, the mind quivers and finally coming to rest,

The heart speaks out and the resolve now strengthens.

Fate is how I write it, I tell myself,

The time to take a stand , now beckons.

For although the signs seem ominous,

The mind forecasts a hope, the gut predicts success.

It’s time I face my fears and take a leap of faith,

That done, finally…peace I shall possess.

DRIVEN….MAD!

Posted: September 12, 2011 in Blah Blah Blah
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The waft of cool air, the music system playing your favorite song, speeding along at a comfortable pace, you rest your arm on the arm-rest, one hand on the steering wheel, quietly humming along with the song. Heaven. But suddenly, “Don’t you have eyes? Your judgement on the left is as bad as your judgement while reversing!” . You’re jolted back to reality, and you realize, this isn’t heaven, it’s probably your worst nightmare!

Sounds familiar? Has to! Every Indian kid with or without a driving license and a parent seated somewhere in the car has faced this . Yup! You guessed it right. I am referring of course to every parent’s (Indian or otherwise) favorite road game…Backseat driving!

The tradition of backseat driving probably predates the use of driving licenses. The first backseat driver must’ve been some dude with a turban and a dhoti telling his kid that he, the son, was dumber than the bullock pulling the cart along. Or maybe he just said his son on the bullock cart was like a jackass trying to navigate using bullocks. Either way, the idea somehow struck a chord with all parents, and I assume the practice soon caught the fancy of all parents. Now, I think they issue a backseat driver’s license as soon you become a parent. “Here is your kid, and here’s your license. Congrats! You can now officially drive, backseat. Oh and it’s a boy by the way. Congrats on that too”. The best part of this is, one doesn’t even need to know HOW to drive. I know of this guy who was called a blind donkey at the wheel, by his pop who has only ever ridden a bicycle, and probably fell off doing so.

Switching back to the present. As he does the eye-roll-and-finger-wag routine, I meekly protest “But dad the biker was miles away! I couldn’t have hit him even if I wanted to!” . It’s almost like he expects this, as the next retort is “Yeah but what if you had hit him? Someone would have gotten hurt real bad!” (“WTF ! Is my dad watching Russel Peters?” I wonder). The sermon goes on, from really unhelpful inputs from mum seated on the back seat (yeah. Ironic, I know) who chips in with “ I told you to not give him the car. He’s so rash!”  She says this holding onto the handle like she’s sitting in a MIG-21 doing back-flips! My mind can handle only so much of criticism-per-minute. As I mutter the 5 most abused and falsely said words uttered by every ass-saving kid in the world i.e. “I won’t do it again”, I tune out.

I wonder to myself (as if I have any other option), turn philosophical. Maybe backseat driving has been prevalent much before the damn wheel was even invented! Isn’t the world being backseat driven? Closer to home, India itself is being driven by a rather accomplished Italian backseat driver. Yeah. I’m politically incorrect. Sue me. Every major global decision has been taken because an influential country started pestering the decision makers to satisfy their own vested interest. Every alliance, every coalition, was formed because of one. Countries have gone to war after being ‘persuaded’ to do so against a ‘common enemy’. So, in reality our parents are just following the ‘duniya ki reet’. It isn’t their fault, it’s programmed into every human being. I’ve been subjected to it, maybe I’ll do it too someday, I hope not though.

But I think we as a people, have finally woken up to this. People are no more backseat driven, they are just driven- to stand up for themselves. To get more, out of their lives. It is a good thing really. A man in a white Gandhi topi recently showed us that. One may argue that this too, was someone’s agenda. Whatever it may be, it is now time we as a people don’t let this movement slide back into neutral.

As I tune into myself again, I realize the backseat driving has stopped, and I’m still at the same speed. Just goes to show, if you stick your lane, do things your way, you shall reach your destination…no matter what the barbs may be. …

Car parked. Destination reached. Everyone heaves a collective sigh of relief. “You can drive well. Just not well enough.” He says….That had to come didn’t it!

“You’re going to make it through this okay?” she screamed as She left his hand. He was now gliding. Just blurred shapes and this weird voice was all he could hear. But it was time. It was time to think about all that had happened. It was the time he made his final list. So, before he saw the ‘light’ he closed his eyes to cut out the darkness…

Retrospection has to be one of the biggest and deepest things the human mind can process. Everyone is a critic. It’s easy being one isn’t it…all you have to do, is basically find faults, and we are all programmed to find faults, by default. The question ‘Who am I ? What am I?’ is one we rarely ask ourselves…or it’s more likely that this is that one single question, everyone on earth dreads. But , he realised it was his time; to do the asking, and sadly, it was his time to do the answering as well…and thus began probably the most meaningful conversation he ever had…with himself.

“Mind, today I have a lot to say to you…and a lot to ask from you. let me start from the very beginning, although I am quite sure you know this part..I have never been much of a looker, knew that, right in the very beginning. Naaa…good looks were for those who have been blessed with precious little between the ears. I always pride myself as a charmer, one who grows on someone, rather than one who shall sweep someone off their feet with a devilish smile and a godly face. Nope, that’s not me…coz that just would be too easy to do, wouldn’t it? I have been blessed (or at least I think so) with a way with the words. Everyone has a mouth and tongue, but very few can use it efficiently. The tongue can be very useful thing. It is the sharpest blade, and, with a clever mind, the smartest weapon. However, it can also be the softest and the sweetest succour, to a troubled mind.-Learnt this too, quite early on.

Now that we are through with introductions, let me get to my point. I am troubled by who I am, why I am the way I am… I always threw phrases like ‘I don’t give a rat’s ass about it’ ‘I don’t care’ like they were pebbles in water, with no consequence or importance, but somewhere inside me I always knew I was lying to you,  my dear self. And I am sorry for that. For I know that I always did care. And this was, is,  my problem. I cared, and then worried that I did. Rather you, Mind, worried that I cared. I wanted to die in anything but anonymity. This you have helped me achieve, well done. We both know that I never wanted to be famous…just well-known. To live with no regrets is difficult…to die with them is a sin. The Next thing that I want to really get out now that I am open with you is that I hate our gut. Now don’t get me wrong…it’s gotten us through a lot. But it’s always made me stick my neck out. I trusted my gut too much…YOU trusted my gut too much. Anyone who I felt was right/correct in my gut, I went that extra mile for them.

Speaking of extra miles…I always felt like I made it too obvious when I liked someone…romantically or otherwise. Now, we both know, to sound cool I used to say, ‘I am an open book in a language read by a few’ but truth is I was too easy to read. It was very simple…if I liked someone, I made it very, VERY obvious. And well, we know it hasn’t worked out great for me many times. I tried to stop it, but could never help it could I…just gave out everything. I always felt that people read me, but when it came to reading them, it was like the bell rang and the class was dismissed. Had I said this to anyone else but you, it would have invoked reactions like ‘emo’ and ‘soft minded’ ‘weak’ and other adjectives. But somehow these words never made sense to me; which brings me, to my last observation… Was I too open? Should I have said no? Should I have been mean when I simply chose to be indifferent?

As I look back, I think I know the answer. NO. I stuck my neck out for those I believed in, those I cared for…yeah I am emo…so sue me. I chose to take the high road when I should’ve gotten knee deep in crap. I chose to open up to those who used it to their advantage. Was I ‘emo’ in saying I did this? Maybe I was. Did they deserve to be helped? Maybe they didn’t but I know I did it coz I wanted to. Am I too attached? Yes…maybe I am. But that has made me stronger, coz I did what I did, coz I believed in it. Am I an open book, read too easily? Yes, I guess I am. But then again, this is how I am made. This is how I am built. I talk a lot, I care too much, I open up too fast, and I trust too easily.  THIS is my greatest strength, my greatest weakness…this is… who I am…”

“Sir, can you hear me???” As her voice floated in, he opened his eyes, ready to take in the ‘light’ and close his eyes to the darkness, that one final time. He was at peace though, nothing to lose, no more to gain.

“You’ve been out for 2 days….welcome back”, she said. He learnt he had been in coma for 2 days. Yet he felt like he was there all along. He was told he was lucky he wasn’t dead. Yet, today after finally meeting himself, he felt lucky to be born.

His final thoughts to himself as he was wheeled out and he saw Her…the One, as She held his hands were “Maybe I spoke to me today, or maybe I actually spoke to HIM. Whatever it is though, whoever it was, one thing’s for sure…the ‘open book’ lives today, to be written into tomorrow…and to be read from…as easily as yesterday…”

Dad

Posted: August 5, 2011 in Psychobabble
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He never really said much
Yet he never needed to say it.
It was never a show of affection
Yet It showed in whatever he did.
It’s not like he was there all the time
And yet, he really always was.
He was the wind in the sails
He was the tree in the desert.
They say a shadow is your best friend
Yet it never says a word
It was kinda like that with him
He was my shadow.
A float in treacherous waters
A sage in my dilemma.
He taught me to ride without wheels
And get up when I fell
Still does….
He held my hand when I crossed a dangerous path….
Still does….

El Diablo (The Devil)

Posted: July 17, 2011 in Psychobabble
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A peek into the mind of a suicide bomber…

El Diablo
It happens in a moment,
I walk away from there;
The world around me blows up into red.
They seek help and mercy,
I walk away from there;
As the world around them, flows with red.

Who am I? I am no one.
They shall search for me,
They shall scout for me.
But I have disappeared.

I have fulfilled my purpose;
Was told this was God’s bidding.
They had scouted for me,
As my family, sold my fate.

Yet as they show me the barrel;
The wrong end of irony is clear,
I thought I was serving God,
But I have only wronged Him here.

With what I have done,
People killed, blow after blow,
My fate is sealed, He shall not see me.
All I shall see now, Is the face,
Of
El Diablo.

The Warrior Prince

Posted: May 13, 2011 in Psychobabble
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A righteous prince, exiled to the unknown…

 The Warrior Prince

Knuckles white he rides into battle,

Still green behind the ears

With Determination in his eyes

Yet his face reveals his years.

He fights with valour,

He fights like a true warrior,

With each strike, his enemies know

The brave prince is here.

He fights many battles,

In one he receives his scar;

He wears it on his arm

As Tales of his bravery, reach afar.

He is the best warrior,

The king’s favourite son;

His brother sees his valour;

The ambers of envy now burn.

As the warrior prince, he is now known,

In him, they see more God than man;

Yet a few men shall turn against him,

All his brother’s sinister plan.

In the next battle fought,

These men fight their own;

The battle is thus lost,

The brother’s cover, not blown.

The prince is now accused

Of treachery, of treason,

He knows this is false,

He knows the real reason.

Into the night he rides away,

His scar still bleeding;

“I wont be called traitor

Hence,My land, I shall be leaving”

He rides far and wide,

To a kingdom with no king;

The people there love him,

They Throne him, their new king…..

Years later a merchant arrives

In the court of a king,old not frail,

Hailing from a far off land,

He begins his tale.

He talks of a brave prince,

Who was loved by all in the land;

Accused of treason, he’d left,

Gone to an unknown land.

He says they soon realized

Their mistake was how great

Because they still loved him, in his memory,

A grand statue they would create.

As he looks into the sunset,

A thought crosses his mind

“My people still love me,

The king looks at his arm,

Where his scar would once burn…

To the merchant he now says,

“It is time…

Your Warrior Prince shall now return.”