M.D Dinesh Nair
Waiting For A Sail...
At times we are alone and alone,
In this tent of army of pathos and woes
And we are in a cruel world of all seasons
That cannot protect us even for a minute
From the hard times of our belligerents
Growing stronger than ever before.
Suffering from all kinds of pains we slouch
And what shall we do as the world remains silent?
We are often in a jungle rather than
Being in a pretty world we would like to have.
The ferocious beasts are around us.
The politicians and the celebrities are here
The tradesmen and the perpetrators of all kinds are here
And the kin and the kith of a thousand masked faces
All redefining our lives though we have not asked for!
They are all around us with their burning eyes fixed on us.
We often cry a million tears every day.
As we are alive and not dead.
Our hearts are going to stop perhaps and
All our five pretty senses too may stop working.
Where is the pretty world?
Some of you have spoken of it time and again
But we should not ask so ever as those were your illusions
Nor ought we to feel for anyone except ourselves
And the signs are clearer than before.
So we might quit our lives any time,
Our nights and days are soon to be almost over
And we are all going to enter into a deep slumber
Wherein even the nightmares will not haunt not.
Thud.. thud.. thud..
We hear and it is raining outside our tent.
Let it rain for a whole night then,
We will tomorrow have a flowing river for our sail towards
The turbulent seas of certain depths
Where we shall lie buried for some time
Waiting to be meta-morphed into fine pearls!
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