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

What the New Year Means to Me

 What does the new year mean to me? I don't know.  I think it just means that I can give myself another chance to try, fail, succeed.   I think it means that I can spend time with family, differently this time. I think it means that I can connect with people and with myself, in new ways.  I also think that it gives me a chance to see things with a different lens. The kaleidoscope becomes a periscope. I don't know what else. Every year, I put on a new pair of goggles. Every year, I grow, whether I try, or not. Some things may work as I had expected them to, some may not. But who knows?  I will allow myself to be Novak Djokovic in my arena, who hears his name when the crowd cheers for Nadal or Federer. I will allow myself to be Rafael Nadal, who always has a plan, no matter how bleak or bright things may seem, and sticks to it. I will allow myself to be Roger Federer, who glides in, serves, plays and walks out, all in grace and style. I will allow myself to b...

Nut and Shell

 Coconut Tender as a coconut. Hard as a coconut. Light as a coconut. Heavy as a coconut. I wish I was a coconut Today... A double-shelled, strange coconut. They call those people coconuts Whom they cannot understand, Like tapping on hard rock but not getting hurt- Like knocking against the hollow And shaking a bowl of jingling water That is cushioned by tender walls. Well, maybe people could be coconuts They could have hard shells and tender interiors, A hard crunch but a sweet essence- I would like to believe so. I want to know why I'm fascinated by the coconut. It can't be solely because of its duality. It can't be its beguiling double facedness. What is it, then? I feel like maybe a shaft of light A hollow for each hard tap- Tears through the hard door. An intriguing belt of  adventurous light Wriggles out from apparent darkness. Mystery, mystery. That's what it is. The mysterious coconut.  It has a shell But it has a soul- Shell protects soul, Soul preserves shell I...

My Imaginary Pen Pal

Ma Chére Amie Félicia, Bonjour! I wonder how long it's been since I last wrote to you. Time enough for the salutations to transform from English into French indeed!:)  How is old Bob keeping? Still nosing the kennel for those dollops of fondue? Ha Ha, I really won't be surprised. 'The Triple Imbecile!' #Mam'zelle Dupont. Give Scruff my greetings. Where's that collar I gifted him? Gnashed into bits? :( Or does Mickey wear it on her head now? :\ Send me a photo whichever one of the two.  :) Last week we learnt how to tell the time in French.  Pretty tedious for 11 o'clock, if you please. Pun intended. Knuckle-knocks not very frequent , thankfully. Neither are the thumb-fiddles. No question as regards the eye-droops- French is incapacitated to give me those! We're having fun galore learning French!:)  I miss your hot chocolat terribly. Something like the warm gust of the Niagara trickling into my throat. Yesterday when I was ...