Scribbling:

Scribbling:

“To belong to no one

Neither to loose, nor to own

Merely a wish to witness eyeful of the moon

Scribbling on the sand by the sea-shore

A gentle wave and words being swept away, drown

Looking all around, to find everyone gone

Being cursed or a dream unknown

Just a passer-by, wanderer alone!”

                                                      ~ Praveen Parasar

Tragedy of Wanderer!

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer –

“As the day started losing its shine and the sun cruised along the path of oblivion but not before kissing the dusk and letting her cheek blossom all over sky, redness to be spread all around, as if letting it go, for she is no more in love with him. For the dusk has always loved moon, the moon! And oh who wouldn't, for him being the pleasant and handsome always shy to confront her, yet putting his best once their eyes meet through the veil of clouds. Dusk and the moon make such a perfect couple, and though that makes the sun a bit sad, he knows dusk being so soft and charming – how could he claim her being so hot and unpleasant to eyes, he must remember he must be away from her whole summer, and while so how could he stop her from falling in love with sweet and pleasant Moon. He must not be the hindrance and let the love blossom though it might need him to remain in oblivion, away. Oh dear, how hard that could be, as it silently watches them romancing from another hidden corner of sky.”

Tragedy of Wanderer!

Tragedy of Wanderer!

Wait, wait my dear

Wait, as I lay open my wounds

For they carry the way to my soul still

Way, which I seized, closed long ago

And yet when you knocked

Moments lay still

As if they would burst open

And let blood run down

As if they were waiting

For you to sink in

To make you drown beneath

The skin, which still hanged

At the edge of wounds, for

They are the one who reminds me

Of being alive

Come, don’t be afraid

Sink in, Lie still, and breathe

For I do not breathe any more

Show me, show me please

How do you inhale and exhale

Oh! So long

For I have been lost and wandering

As if a walking dead

Oh dear!

Alas! Such misery

For I know not

How to keep myself awake

Despite having you beside

Pity! Though I should

I feel an urge

To go back to sleep

To go back behind the shadow

Of my wounds

For I feel tired

And yet, you being here

Let me ask

Will you stay?

Will you get lost along with me?

In the darkness inside me, forever

For I wish to wake-up

Never again.

By: Praveen Parasar

Date: 7/5/2014

Scribbling

Scribbling:
“Civilization, a child born of raped humanity in the backdrop of religions and left dying at the feet of intellectuals, who have been more occupied with question of where to bury the child, safely! Once dead, than to make any saving efforts, for they seemed assured of failure of any such action.”

Scribbling!

Scribbling:
“Travelled, as I, journeyed away, afar
Veins of my soul remained left ajar
It awaited my return, caressed its scars
To narrate its longings, while swinging me under stars
To watch me scribble down, as solitude flickered”

~ Praveen Parasar

Tragedy of Wanderer!

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“In the heart of darkness, he swayed and again, to and fro, inside-out and at high speed, as if in sync with the motion of train he was sitting upon. It was as if a strong rush of adrenaline in his stiff veins. He was amazed, scared, tired, yet alive. For darkness always showed him his self in more dimensions and clarity, than he ever saw in a room flooded with light. Yet, as if he had been left stranded in a mirror room and views of his own flesh made him feel sick. He did not want to hold that prick, yet it insisted, and he felt as if no control over his own body. As if it was body of an animal that he was supposed to look after for time being and he must. Suddenly he felt a strong force drowning him before he could take his hands away. He must hold himself, his legs were trembling. He hated the smell, it disgusted him and yet pleasure of that particular instant took over his consciousness. It was exactly the same pleasure he felt when for the first time his atoms gathered in the womb of his creator. He could not decide yet felt as if there was the answer to catch and a thought flashed in his heart, for it’s not what light reveals but what darkness fails to hide and yet darkness; at its disfigured face, offers to show what light steals silently beneath its innocence, as was the case with pleasure and sadness.”

~ Praveen Parasar

History!

History!

Want, wanted we more

For our wings grew, galore

Had to be a fight

To give up, to surrender

Did not learn, we, being human

Not that it must, but as for our lust

Lust as it grew, for all we wanted was anew

New life, new world, new air, new sky

New colour, new things, new day, new nights

And more, more, more and more.

Oh dear, Never ever had us any clue

Of what were we doing, where would it lead?

 Passion, humanity, God, named it as we wanted

Alas! Remained it just synonyms of greed!

Greed, and why not

Isn't what awareness allowed us to?

Awareness we thought it was, but was it? No.

Sunk deep in trance, we had lost our stance

More a machine, scattered pieces of cell

As heart kept bleeding watching it to fail

With hopes fading as fast as memories off our skin

Hatred growing thick and compassion thin

With painted faces, and glittering sins

As our plastic mouths opened wide and grins.

We remain the master, we always were, will

For us made-up the world, we picked moments to fill

And more we tried to fill; we had this ever-growing void

For more smiles we faked, several souls cried

Cried they aloud, cried them high

For we just closed the eyes, turned our heads away

Yet a question ringed, in the void it swayed

Who would wake us up, who could turn the game?

God! Who? One we created for our self

To amuse, to kill, to laugh, to thrill

And let it bear the pain of cries

While we enjoy our handful of lies.

By: Praveen Parasar

Date: 18/04/2014