The Doubt Of Existence

I see around myself and I see people craving for an escape. An escape from the reality which haunts them to their cores. The primal need of gratification lies within them. I ask to all those wretched beings, “Is your life really worth all the pains?? Are you sure that this all is real??” Rocking in my wooden chair, I think to myself, are we living a dream?? Or is this a reality??

I try to convince myself that this is real, where even molecular actions and wronged choices can have painful repercussions. But, what if, in the end, this all is just a dream? A moment suspended in time. A bubble waiting to be pricked. An eternity in space. Can it be possible that I started dreaming yesterday night and today never occurred? Or maybe that my whole life is just a mere dream.

I am deeply fascinated by an abstract idea that our whole lifetime is just the outcome of powerful subconscious. And when we die, we actually wake up in a space which is hanging between two different dreams and we fall back to sleep and start dreaming all over again. In other words, start living another lifetime. What if a person never really dies? What if we all are just asleep somewhere in the infinity? What if we all don’t exist and are the figments of imagination of a single supreme entity?

Many may refer to this entity as God, our Creator. As prophesied by the elders of our generation, “It is He who controls our destiny, our thoughts”. I’m enchanted by the thought that we are just a derivative of His vision, His vivid imagination. We don’t have our own existence. We are just some ripples scattered over His ocean of subtle subconscious.

I look at my hands, my face and my body. Do I really exist? Is my creator, sleeping somewhere in the distant space, has created my soul, which in turn is his dream. Is this body a shield which my creator has wrapped around my soul, to protect the eternal heart of his dream??

A traveller I am, tip-toeing between the lines of chimera and real world. I wish my thoughts are carried away in the dead of night and answers are reverberated to me by soft morning winds. Till then I consider the world around me as fake and I refuse to trust what I see. I wander in dusts, through hills I roam and wait for the day when all will be revealed.

I go back to ground zero, rocking in my chair I think to myself, Is this a reality?? Or is this a mere dream??

The Eagle's Slave

I am often intrigued by the fascination I can garnish for an interest of mine so suddenly, as if I am struck by a bolt of lightning. That interest can be a particular genre of music to which I’m connected to, a poetry which I have written or any character driven novel which I relish. What is it in me that flaps its wings so vehemently, which gathers its strength so intensely, that my own will surrenders to its mighty power?

I see the world around me fading away into nothingness and I see, hear and breathe my fascination, my interest, my addiction. As if, I’m overpowered by the will of the ‘Creature’ living inside me. I always thought of this entity as an Eagle. So omnipotent, so glorious in its vigour, that it outshines the light of my soul. The Eagle which erupts from the endless pit of my heart, engulfing my responsibilities and forcing me to kneel down in front of her, satiating her thirst, her desires.

I remember all those futile attempts I made to keep my focus on the cumbersome obligations of my monotonous life. But that flaming, enormous bird clouds my vision and compels me to follow her path, the path to eternal wisdom. In the dead of night, she speaks to me, “As long as a being has no knowledge of his own soul, this world will remain oblivious to him, hidden by a mysterious veil. To attain enlightenment, one has to follow his heart and worship his dreams.”

The astounding realisation of passion which I accumulate  for my interest gives me a profound satisfaction. ‘The sacred peace’, as some may call it. Gust from the wings of The Eagle drives away the turmoil in me and grant me solace. She blesses me with Life.

Now, I need to take leave. My Eagle is calling me. She wants to embrace me. The eternal unison waits. She wants to set me free. I need to go, for I am, in the end, My Eagle’s Slave. 

The Wall

Come back to us O lost soul,
This world is daunting we all know.
Break that Wall which is wrapped around you,
Feel pain, it is the silver lining in the sky all blue.

Come out of your delusions,
Lucid nightmares of leading revolutions.
These spiralling webs of emptiness will choke you,
Look up at heaven and find dreams that will make you.

It’s time to search for yourself, O lost soul,
Believe me, all hurts are written in coal.
Break it now, this Wall I’m talking about,
Or you’ll find it with you inside your death shroud.

I am nobody to distinguish between blue skies and pains,
A journey of riches and that of stains.
My friend, I know this Wall is too thick to break,
But hold my hand, we have a history to make.

Go back to your Mama now,
She’ll help you find yourself.
Oh! Trust me, she do crave for you.
Go back to your life now,
It’ll soften the blows of all those hammers.
Oh! Trust me, it still waits for you.

Wrath Against Karma

Let this karma dig up his own grave,
My deeds will not be Destiny’s slave.
This mutiny flows turbulently in my thick blood,
Strong deprivations will not be marred by wet mud.
A gun and a bullet won’t be my last resort,
Through barren broken roads I will trot.

Nails of longing cut me deep,
Drowning inside me,
I’m too traumatized to weep.
A solace is to be found in this succumbing emptiness
Searching within me,
I seek to overcome this hellish madness.


Let this karma rot in hell,
My actions will not be sunk in any shallow well.
This sanity flows vigorously in my veins,
My desires will not be choked by thundering rains.
A pedestal and a noose won’t be my last resort,
Through times thick and thin I’ll crawl.

I’ll crawl through Warfield of nails,
Towards my heart I’ll creep.
This wrath against Karma will now unfold,
When even death fades away,
My soul won’t be left cold.