On life and its vagaries

12 Poems

with 8 comments

Here are a few poems for the winners of Sunshine award and as a tribute to the originators of the same. They are not great, but I had fun writing them. I am a bit pressed for time now as I have to tend a dear one who is sick. (Scribbled these near the sick bed)  I may just get enough time to post these in a bunch.


Like the pale reflection of the sun

In a silent pool

Undulating whenever the breeze stirs

Going hazy and indistinct in the summer

When the water level dims-

Becoming all murky

Rupturing when Man, Animal, Bird

Or a Thing

Steps into the pool

Shivering when some child

In its natural curiosity

Dips its leg into the tepid waters

Trotting with people as they pass the pool

In flash floods on rare occasions

So is the human spirit

Reflected on the fabric of reality

Unchanged within, yet displaying


Even if it’s not

It’s not in what we say

That we become visible to others

It’s in what we do

It’s in the connections that we form

In the minds that we flourish

And are perceived by the rest

It’s often amusing to watch the poses we strike

And the attitudes that we maintain

Without paying heed to our this vulnerability

I do it as well

May be more so than the others

And whenever I catch myself in it

I laugh the loudest

For in this passing ephemera that we call life

Nothing is that certain

The things that we hold on to with our dear life

Would desert us when we become finally pulverized

By the inexorable time

So why these petty dramas to prove ourselves

Superior to others?

I cannot guess the answer

I know only one thing, that I am as bad as the rest

And play my role to perfection

It’s fun that way, even if it’s not so for others!


The night

As we know

Is not a poetic essay of silence?

It’s a mass of noise

Reduced into one discernible note

That of an octave otherwise unheard

A black composition

Where strange phantoms lurk

Asking to be invited into the fragile inner fortresses

Relishing their prospective customers

Smacking their lips

Drinking in the gore of imagined pleasures…….

The night

Is the den of inner revisions

Where there are forays into the core of being

That remains subtle but always mind altering

Fear it


The moment a system is formed

It would start to flounder

Because, ever

Subtle variations would be taking place

In the patio temporal fabric it occupies

Altering its relevant themes

Making it slightly anachronous

And irrelevant

Yet the power of thoughts is such

That they become established

In the hearts of people who comes across it

Then as they try to work

Within it

Contradictions start to rear their heads

Asking questions

Making suggestions on its relevancy

Making them numb with uncertainty

They become the inhabitants of a rudderless boat

And despairs

Is it ever possible?

To uncover a system on life and world

That’s ever rejuvenating

And is flexible to contain

Temporal intrusions?

We can only wonder about it!

The unchanged

What changes in us as time goes?

Yet what do not!

Just the other day we were swimming in the

Delightful effluents that we made

Making little incoherent noises about ourselves-

And the world

Then we started to wear things that

Others made for us

They are called cloths

Yet they are classifications

They tell us that we are a boy, girl, young,

Smart, black, white, thriving

Getting on in years, growing old

About to die……

But all through these frenetic bustle

One thing remains the same

That’s our thoughts about us

We may be then whole in body,

Or may have even lost some of our body parts

We may once have been ignorant and now brilliant

We may have gone though relationships

Change of moods, positions, places

Yet we feel the same.

It’s all happening to us

Not to the child, the young person, the adult,

The middle aged, the older one

No nothing is ever ascribed to the changing being

All is said to happen to us

The unchanged………

On the nature of science

Science so requires an aperture

To peep into the nature of things

Its inquisitiveness would come to naught

If just such an opening is not provided

What is hard for the scientist (?)

Is to locate this crack in the otherwise opaque

Spatial domains

To seek, to discover or to enlarge

The slits if they exist

As Freud did

In the science of the conscious and below conscious

He permitted himself to be a marauder inside the mind

To discover the hidden realms of human nature

Yet it so happens

That one discovers only whets within oneself

And not on the outside

Freud naturally imagined

(Such are the nature of our egos)

He had discovered a hole in the human make up

To peep through

Yet he failed to perceive

That the gash was his own!

We can’t blame him though

He is just like

Any of us who ventures into the unknown!

On our lovely ends

Any flight into the mind

Is fraught with the danger of meeting

With ourselves-

In the real

Some go for this form of nudity

Than the other one

Its basic, inculcated by

The passage of time

It could even be a conscious preference

Yet whatever it is, it’s mystical and thus funny.

I like its intricacies.

Yet some like their nudity even otherwise

And are often seen to flaunt it too

Not that it’s bad,

This is the era of the God of the body

I like it too

There could be many paths of self discovery

Some seek it in art

Some in sport

Some in meditative states

Some even in psychedelic escape routes

Nothing is ever wrong

Because we all go to the same comical end

Of the ever so particulate

If anyone escapes it in any way

I hope that they would

Let the world know.

The real foe

To me

Life became simpler since I met

My real foe

It’s within me

Yet has the trick of looking at me

Through the eyes of others.

Even now

It looked at me through

The sad face of the wandering musician

He was singing about the days past


Invaders came into our land

Bringing in strange customs and different gods

I got irked. I asked him,

Do you know how to sing of our land?

Instead of talking of invasions

And being full of the pride of slavery?

Do you realize what you are doing?

You are taking down your people

And you are worshipping alien gods!

But he seemed so self satisfied that

I had to laugh at myself

What irks me, I soon asked myself

Is it the fact that the alien gods are

Superior to our own

And with that I burst out laughing so loud

That the poor musician flew

Yes life became a lot simpler

Since I met my real foe

Who resides within me?


Once the summer sets in

My fancy deserts me and I become zapped

Yet it should be otherwise

For the light of sun enlivens the being-

Pouring in the life force

Making us regain strength and exude vitality

Oh I like all that

But I am a Freudian

Albeit a pseudo one

And the Freudians like the rain

The murk, the indelicacy of the mind

It’s a sickness

That I caught from others

Well who could be these others?

Hell, that’s what I would like to know!

We live in the past

It seems

That we live in the past

Almost all the time and

Our thoughts are a tincture

Of all that we have learned

Or unlearned


Yet the future is ever alluringly near that

It almost feels tangible

Though it may prove to be so elusive and far off

To never fall into our grasp

This is how we live our lives

Staying firmly entrenched in the past

And peering distrustfully forward

Do we ever recognize the present?

I believe not.

Yet I would give my head to one who is

Firmly established in the present-

Without fearing the past

And without worrying about whets to happen

To learn that lovely technique

But there none like that are there?

Clever boy

There was this boy

Who was packed off to work in the Arabian Gulf

He had just reached Mumbai

And stepped out of the train

He was just looking up at the sun

What glare

He shivered

Then he was in the Airport

And looking out through the panes of the

Passenger lounge

Into the blitzing scene outside

It was so hot that the air conditioners

Was going down

What heat

He was terrorized

Now he was in the plane flying off

In the next seat

Was the phantom

It was a regular in that plane

Its seat was always reserved.

What cold

The boy shouted

Then the phantom moved into him

The poor phantom! Clever boy!

All in the day

In the light of the day

There would be dark recesses

Or so we presume

Or else

What is there left to do for us

You know

It’s the day time, the sun is shining


There is not a shade of a crow’s feet in the horizon

Yet what is this inner mirth

That’s bubbling to come out

Well, whatever it is, there are events-

Around, matters to attend

There are the reasons to be so serious with life

Yeah, so there are

There is the world to think of

There is the movement of time

There is the need to support our self and world

Let’s wish good work to us


8 Responses

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  1. A cool selection of poems.
    i like contrary the most


    February 12, 2010 at 12:52 pm

    • Thank you. I like that one too 🙂


      February 13, 2010 at 9:38 am

  2. A dozen of poems,
    A dozen of roses,
    They are all the same,
    what talented Sam!

    beautiful post,
    i admire your patience and dedication in posting them all!


    February 12, 2010 at 9:23 pm

    • Thank you very much Jingle.
      You the kindest of souls.
      I enjoyed doing them though
      the situation was a bit
      tense. They sort of helped
      me too.


      February 13, 2010 at 9:44 am

  3. A nice variety there, I particularily enjoyed ‘the real foe’ – thanks


    February 13, 2010 at 3:18 am

  4. You are welcome. And thank you too.


    February 13, 2010 at 9:47 am

  5. Dearest Sam,

    You mentioned you were caring for someone
    who is sick?
    I pray everything is going to be fine.
    You got to take care of yourself too, ok?

    Lovely collection of poems.

    I can see how they have helped you.
    Your poems speak a lot about your state of mind
    and what is troubling you.
    Words are to help us.
    I always tell my kids not to ever use words
    to harm people.
    Words are very powerful and so precious.

    I liked all the poems but the most are

    Take care , my friend.



    February 13, 2010 at 10:56 am

  6. Dearest Shakira,

    Thank you, it is kind of you to
    ask so.

    Yes, everything is fine now,
    it had me worried a bit.
    I was my wife, she has

    I am thankful of your
    Concerns about me too……..

    I have to disagree with you on
    on one point. None of the verses
    ( in this instance at least!)
    could be called a reflection
    of my state of mind. I intended
    Them to be general in purport

    Words in themselves are not harmful,
    but coupled with intentions
    they could wreak havoc.
    Lovely of you to point it out!

    My best to you


    February 13, 2010 at 12:44 pm

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