THINK the thing

The pages are empty, the pencil isn’t sharpened, the desk is dusted, and the chair still needs repair. The only thing in place is the thought, which is dying for recognition with the dark ink and a white skin.

Thought; the most beautiful translator for heart and mind, it’s the inevitable feeling inside and outside me.
My mind has never been able to accept the fact that thoughts could die with a being. It cannot.

Maybe the sun has many reasons to rise and shine, the flower to flourish, the plane to fly in the air, the clouds to rain, the man to hug and kiss the woman, the computer to ask for password before starting, the lock to be opened with a specified key, the book to have pages, the football to be kicked, the remote to change channel, the dog to bark, the ice to be hard and so much more.

They are inevitable thoughts; they come in my mind and go. We are leaving foot prints of our thoughts in the minds of everyone we have a thought about. It is so amazing to think. We could never escape it, provided we die. But what if there is the soul also that thinks? Is it possible? Or is it again my thought that they also think after death or even if soul exists after death or the thought that death exists too?

My mind is thought, an idea, a source, a caliber and even a conductor. I can think of fitting into any of the roles until my mind makes me think that it’s a thought to give birth to or to diminish without reloading back from where it came, which is thought again.

It’s a give and take of something that does not exist but still prove its existence with everything.

My words may be confusing until it’s not taken as thought. It is complicated but fabricated too. My thoughts are flying the higher levels of exposure which could just not be limited to the pages; they need to be unlimited to the minds of those kind breeds who are also mending their views, their likings, their souls and their destinies destined through…… THOUGHTS

sort alone

How can someone define why I am so lonely?
The one who was mine, belongs to someone else, namely?
If this is the world, then why is the world like this?
If this is what is happening, why does it happen without a miss?

Just as i raise my hands towards her, in my arms, she would ride
And in her hearts would submit, my heart beats inside
If there is so much closeness, then why is there so much distance now?
Is it a relation temporary or a relation by birth some how?

It is said that the relation of love is the relation by birth
If it is the relation by birth, then why does it change my worth?
It the trust is lost, why does it regain, so firmly?
How can someone define why I am so lonely?

when i hear....

when i hear...

drops of water, in the ocean..thirsty
cheering crowd, at clown..yet hasty
the message tone..my cell beeping
fan, restless, moving..when im sleeping

sound of cars, ready to park
dogs crying for praise, when intense dark
the gulp..of a frightened throat
chew to please..an old wise goat

foots tapping..the armed officials
beat of decision..the granting judicials
heart beats of a rat..deep in trap
sign of betrayal..a painful slap

restless and breathless, tiredness of a player
cruel to cut speed, change every gear
chanting for lord..call of the priest
laughing still ugly...the unwanted beast

snake proposing to snake..hissing
love birds preach..love and kissing
horse, jump, gallop...simple joy
whistle..weapon of a silly boy

on the fixed path, the roaring train
crazy sneeze...of the nose insane
songs of pigs, hungry..nasty
drops of water, in the ocean..thirsty

when i hear.....

COUPLE with MOMENTS

Burning woods, at beach side,
Moon staring, just about to hide
Eyes tinkling, still passionate
Darker it was, but fire within, as yet

The moolah… for orders, waiting
Next move, before night as beauty, starts fading
Kindled to touch… simple joy
Body murmuring, a relief, a sigh

Realistic, such...to make love
to calm, count features, of dear dove
teeth to bite, at times misused
beauty at its best, agony, but fused

no more cold…its fog at horizon,
two body, now one body, utter intension
as red as can be, lips...speechless
pain, pleasure, passion… still restless

Formal, a word, wrong to define
Soul upon soul… oh mine… yes you are mine
This sweet moment, to last forever
Close, more close... and depart, never

Heart, mind, body, everything naked
Deal to be fair, intending to be sacred
Shooting star above, gazing
Melting desires, till the spines, chasing

Frank temptations, itself getting peddled
Stability demanding, not getting settled
Moon still staring… does not want to hide
Burning woods, ashes… heat at beach side

Soiled soul

Soul is the purest religion. Follow it. Every individual, whether a priest in the church or the soldier on the border follow what they have to do at that moment of time. no one trigger fires or fire triggers religion but their self esteemed bullets to the alien society.
It is the society which decides the undecided fate of tis people. We call the supreme society as government.

I wish if religion could teach. But presently it’s the not teaching, but replicating individual thoughts of particular breed to underestimate another breed
The bureaucrats have enough time to swell their chairs with power and authority. They do know that below the chair are the four pillars which has innumerable souls to support it.
The puppet show seems to be interesting, as the ones watching are themselves the victims. Some know it, some don’t. The sooner or later realization casts a reflection of the bureaucrats to the costs of millions of lives.
The question will never be answerable due to the complexity of the system and also because we are sitting on the ground floor and can only view whatever is viewable from there.

They are at the 100th floor and view and do much than a common, simple, innocent and insignificant soul.
As per the Darwin theory, the powerful will and always rule. It’s a jungle out there and we are (m)animals, and the worst part is that we have the ability to think. The violent does it with silence.
Its just that the face of the powerful is changed. Maybe the religious affinity is the target of the hour and the so called bureaucrats will continue to peel the skins of its people, until the soul is visible.
The hard truth which will exist till the end of this world, in the coming time, there will be different people, there will be different rulers; but the demotion and promotion of souls will be constant.
It’s the only thing which cannot be controlled or designed by anyone.

It is the soul which will follow its root to the soil..
map isn’t the territory but map makers are the terrorists..