Skip to main content

A Change for the Better




I’m thankful that I can walk up and down,
Every other day, and know the world is not an impoverished place.
Although I know that millions go hungry in pockets,
I am not confronted by the stark vulgarity of it- I don’t grimace.

My words do not resonate in a colosseum,
Where I may be beheaded on account of political inaccuracy!
We aren’t stranded in a once-bombed Cathedral, or Concentration camp,
Where every next breath feels like ecstasy.

But I don’t know what it really means to be thankful-
To canter, while your heart is trotting,
To paint from an imagination clouded by the gore of war,
To be headlong, knee-deep in violence- but express the music of freedom in a jotting.

Have I seen the change- the resurgence,
Have I come to learn its true meaning?
Have I been the merger of plight and placidity,
Have I toiled every time my heart gave that wavering beat?

I have not- not as yet;
That ripple of an aberration has not yet abounded.
Have I brought about a revolutionizing change?
Have I left my people astounded?

But then, I have changed- moulded myself time and again
Played to the beckoning need
Stalled at shores that slapped water against my feet,
Passed by cacophony with disdain.

Bored a trench through the Shawshank of my wants,
Where a conscientious soldier is oft dispatched.
To record at length the throbs and the throngs,
That enamour or ripple against me.

This elaborate report gives me bandwidth to respond,
To the world as I would like it to take to me,
When I dig deep, the power to change empowers me,
The power to change all within me…

Radiating, ripple-fashion, beyond…
Through selfless intention, innocent curiosity.
To change the world is no mammoth task,
As all changes emanate from within us,
Bright as the fire, true as a quest,
And contagious as a yawn. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Clandestine

Sometimes we wait too long, To speak our minds. We let lingering truths linger, We let sporadic clocks, chime.. We allow patient seams to fritter away Like a sparrow does with the timber of the tune That she was shrouded by; shrill words tearing  Ears, each word she utters, careful, today. While the first day it was a free reign, until Some unctuous winds carried to her, criticism. Just the same way as copper utensils in a house Of steel, are anyone's delight, until bronzed,  With wear and use, both are the victims Of sundry needs and glances. Just the same way, some things, Are stowed away in careful pockets Because they have borne a lot of perusing When kept in the open.  Like love. Like hurt. Like envy. Like silence. Trust and truth are two things I can list, That are given, that are l'habitude. I tell the truth because it is, it exists, It is what I perceive, it is what I've lived.. And I keep your trust, because I've learnt That it'll help you keep mine, it wil...
Post a Comment
Read more

Predictability Plays Spoilsport

"Comfort's journey from the familiar to the unpredictable..." In the age of AI, if you are an AI Engineer like I am, you would swear by predictability. It's indispensable. We will find patterns in your genetic tree. We'll find them even in your whim of a Gulab Jamun or Barfi. We'll try to connect dots that are distant by miles. Yet, I'm here to tell you that we cannot afford predictability today. Sounds crazy and totally contradictory right? But I can be weird.   I'm here to tell you about randomness. I want you to experience it too. Well, you're smart people, readers. I may not be as smart. You know why we can't enforce patterns.   Someone will read them. Someone will exploit them.  Someone will feed them to an AI (Tool) and figure out what to do with them. You see what I mean? I'm being random. Randomness is not entirely useless.  I want to be equally random. I am stupid, gullible, naive and I'm wandering... You can say that I can be ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Threads of One Fabric

We are all threads of one fabric- The fabric of the human experience. Embroidered by effort, dampened by tears, Emblazoned by ambition, creased by anger- We are all threads of the same single fabric- Which is the fabric of our human emotion. Emotions that flow, those that can't Those that sneak away, waiting to be discovered- And those that comfort us In times of distress. We are drawn by our emotions like puppets tied To a string- becoming caricatures in the live play Which is our every day life. And yet, it is  These emotions that define us. You, me , everybody- Tied together by shared experiences that are Composed of shared sentiment. And yet, pangs of doubt refuse to depart- Is that which I'm feeling, justified? Is it alright? I say to you- I think every feeling has a place. Yours, mine, theirs, everyone's. It's got a role to play. So don't hold it back, pin it down or push it away- There's a definite reason that it's here for you today. Differences defi...
Post a Comment
Read more