Deceiving Dreams

`Tis a dazzling Star, leading me,
Deep into a lacuna of fantasy,
Blinding the sight, with a divine light,
Promising a surreal reality.

A soft sound pulls me back
“Whispers of reason?” I ask.
Blocking the way, and the stellar ray,
Leaving me confounded in my track.

“O Star, where do you take me?
What is this strange territory?
A haven of dreams, where happiness beams?
A wonderland sans animosity?”

The radiant Star doesn’t speak a word,
It only smiles, but I have heard,
Its euphonious melody, in delightful harmony,
Drawing me in to its idyllic world.

Where the golden sand rests beneath my feet
And pristine waters rush in with speed.
Where nature’s Opulence, displays her magnificence
And Paradise opens her arms wide to greet!

With gratitude, I gaze at the Star,
Its brilliance focused on someone afar
I run towards the solitary figure
And just when I reach out to touch him
The Star vanishes, and dawn breaks….

writing woes :(

Once upon a time, I loved to write. That was due to the false belief that I could write. But, I can’t. I just can’t. I write horribly. This piece itself is a perfect example of how badly I write. What am I doing in a course like Comm E? I shouldn’t be here. I am guilty of stealing a much coveted seat from someone more deserving; from someone who passionately desires to write. Wait, that’s me! Guess then, I stole this seat from someone who passionately desires to write and CAN write passionately well. That’s not me. I write horribly. I lack individuality. I lack style. My writing doesn’t appeal to people and if that is the case, then why write at all? Isn’t it futile to shout yourself hoarse when your screams fall on deaf ears? Everything points to the unpalatable fact that I can’t write- my Comm. E marks, the gradual but noticeable decline in my enthusiasm and interest levels for the course in its entirety and even words elude me now unlike good old times when they tripped over each other in their haste to be told. All the folks who told me that I could write and do a good job at it… thank you for being such lovely liars! I can’t write and that’s a heart – wrenching fact. *sigh* I find writing insufferable and tedious now. Dear me! I detest writing!

Me- then and now

I was so different when I was a child. I was wild, uncontrollable, brimming with enthusiasm and the ambitious desire to own the world. In fact then, I really did think that I was the owner, the sole proprietor of the world. Oh, don’t confuse me with God. I didn’t think I was Him. I just thought that I was a very close friend of His and that He had sent me here to set things right. In fact, when I was exposed to the concept of Christ and his sacrifice, I thought I was him reborn! I aint kidding!! I earnestly felt that God was tired of sending him again in the form of a man, so He picked me and packed me down here!

And I firmly believed in that idea because whenever I came up with an original idea, mind you I was very original then, it was copied by others!! I swear! All those brilliant ideas that did wonders to our economy and surroundings were mine! They were my musings and reflections and I never whispered a word about them to any other soul. Obviously then, the tactile form of those ideas took me by great surprise! That was when it dawned on me that I was the channel through which these progressive thoughts could be transferred to others. All I had to do was to think! That’s it! And by some inexplicable process, these creative outbursts would spread to the lesser mortals!

But later I grew up and that lovely and whimsical world in which the child-me resided, was left behind. I realized to my dismay, that I didn’t own the world. And that all- consuming desire to conquer the world backfired. The world conquered me instead! I didn’t have the power to set things right. The things just kept going wrong and I couldn’t do anything about it. I changed into something better or worse, God and maybe You alone know. I discovered that I had flaws too and I sincerely tried to overcome them and become good. Well, that didn’t do me any good! Consequently I changed again, but this time I transformed into a rude monster.

The dire poverty that inspired me to believe that I could change the world doesn’t affect me today. The sight of slums which pushed the seven year old me to take an oath unto myself that I will become the prime minister of India someday is conveniently blurred by the sight of sky rise appartments today. I have become numb and am not comfortable with that. No, I am not.

I want to return to the old me because I was so different when I was a child…