The Divide

Separated from you by a border,

I wonder if you feel what I feel.

I wonder if you cringe at the words

‘War’, ‘Attack’, being thrown around lightly

Like they mean nothing.

As the world around us burns to the ground,

You only know what your people tell you,

And I only know what mine tell me.

My people, your people.

Does that even matter anymore?

We’re all just human beings,

Caught in the crossfire of hate.

Being fed big, bold headlines,

With a coffee on the side,

Tainted with cynicism.

When do we stop,

Paying for the crimes we didn’t commit,

Suffering for the sins that weren’t our own?

Ignorance is bliss, they say.

Ignorance, that you’re just like me,

Dazed and confused,

Wondering what the world is coming to.

I don’t know you, but I wish I did.

I wish I did so that I could understand,

What it is like, on the other side,

Of this divide, created and guarded by us.

I wish I could reach across the words,

Twisted and turned, the truth lost in there somewhere,

Molded into a new reality.

The reality which has divided us in two,

Which stops us from joining hands,

Against the beast that terrorizes us both.

As I sit writing this, in the comfort of my house,

And you read this in the safety of yours,

I wish we could see the people stuck in the middle,

Under siege,  terrified for what lies in their fate.

The little kids count days, till they can go back to school,

Till they can run outside the house, and play,

Because that’s what kids are supposed to do.

Instead, they cower in their house,

Waiting for another day to pass them by.

I wish I knew them, so that I could understand,

The pain of losing someone I grew up with,

The horror of people around me being blown to bits,

And the blind faith, with which I would close my eyes

Unsure if I would ever wake up.

 

I wonder if you feel the same,

Loathe the mess that we’ve created,

Struggling to clean it up.

Separated from you by a border,

I wonder if you feel what I feel.

If you look at people as people,

And wonder if everyone does the same.

Fighter

You can’t point to a moment, an hour, or a day,

‘This is where it happened. It broke me’.

Because you, you were a fighter,

And it was never just a moment.

It was all those hours you spent crying.

It was all those nights you couldn’t sleep.

It was all those days that cut your heart open enough,

For your words to make art.

You were a fighter, wounded, fighting with yourself.

And in that moment, all you broke were your chains.

You deserve the sun, and the stars and let no one

Tell you otherwise.

You deserve to be wild and free,

To fly and to dream.

You deserve to live, and not exist.

Be brave! Be strong!

You have yet to kiss the world.

You have yet to change lives.

And you have yet to live for yourself.

Because you are a fighter, and now you fight for yourself.

Believe

He spoke of a God unseen,
A messenger of his desires.
Underneath that mask,
Lay a soul, black as coal.
His shadow, an epidemic.
It encroached all around him,
The fire, bringing a deeper darkness.
And as the light left their eyes,
They looked for solace,
To the God unseen.
The unseen, who sees nothing.
The ashes left behind,
The crimson of innocence,
As we slaughter our own,
In the name of love.
Yet, again I hope,
That the lights keep burning,
Just a little bit longer.
Maybe this time,
I’ll find a reason to believe.

The night on the rooftop

The night today, is as dark as can be
Not a sound to be heard
Not a shadow to be seen

Just silence, as we sit on the rooftop
And you draw back into your shell
A shell, that wouldn’t be
If you could see what I see
Oh, the world is a cruel place
But you, you make it beautiful
Magic, that’s what you are
A scintillating spark of madness

Your eyes paint a world, that knows no pain
And your voice, a symphony of words
In your heart, you hold a light
That the dark fears to touch
And that snaggle toothed smile
That smile of yours, stops time

So break that shell, step out now
As life grabs you by the hand
And plummets you down
Brush it off, and face the climb
And in your stride, take it all
Just one step at a time

And in your palms, you will hold
Your dreams, that were too big
As you rise, and stumble and fall
And brush it off and start again

In silence
We sit on the rooftop
And in silence I wait
As you break down your walls

The night today, is beautiful as can be
Not a sound to be heard
Not a shadow to be seen

The Beautiful and Terrible World – Slam Poetry

This is my first poetry for which many people deserve credit. It was a group effort, which turned out beautifully! Written by me and Elaine (do visit her blog here!), scrutinized and modified by Niharika, and all the moral support provided by Stuti, here’s another addition to our overflowing Flatmate Goals!


Another beautiful day!                                                                                 Another terrible day!

What’s so beautiful about
Wars and blood baths?

Wars are also waged for good
For change, and everyday
Is better than the last!

Good? The world has locked away
All the good it once knew
And the demons that they created
Are right in front of you!
Everywhere I see is anguish,
Pain, sorrow and despair!
Nothing ever seems fair!

What is not fair?
You see those little kids
Filled with hopes and dreams?
They have so much 
To offer to the world!

They? They grow up!
And all their hope is leeched
Right out of them
And their dreams are crumbled 
Into a million pieces!

Yes! They grow up.
To fight for what is right, 
To remove traces of sorrow, 
To strive for peace,
To abolish evil.
They speak!

And they are shot
Right in the head!
Their throats cut through.
Their voices silenced forever.

Their voices made a difference
It’s their acts of kindness and sacrifice
Which ignites a spark in us
A positive action,
A chain reaction,
Till the whole world is alight!

And where was this light?
When she screamed for help!
No one dared to move a muscle
Nor spoke for her. Well,
She died of course!
Where was this kindness
When she was killed in the womb?
When she was left beside a garbage can!
When she was looked down upon!

But now she fights!
So, no-one suffers her fate.
She is a phoenix of justice
Reborn from the ashes
Shining brightly, smiling gently!
What’s not beautiful?
And amongst all this cynicism
People still fall madly in love.
Slowly driving the darkness away.

Love? Love is brutally murdered!
It is hunted, till slaughtered!
All in the name of religion and caste.
Alas!
Love is reviled…

Yet love is alive
Why don’t you ask the ones?
Who loved and survived!
Whose hope was revived
Because their families fought for them
The world stood with them
This world has taught us
To open our arms and
Welcome love, peace and prosperity.
It has taught us that
Little girls can be warriors.
And little boys, sometimes

Just need someone
To wipe the tears off their face.

It has indeed!
Taught us that humans are humans.
The diminishing characters they are
Surpassing even the greatest demons.

No! It has taught us that
All humans are not monsters.
The nurturing goodness they have
Can uproot any evil from within!

What a terrible world!

It’s a beautiful world!

If I Could Meet Me – Slam Poetry

If I could get on a time machine
I would meet the little girl
Who was still taking life, one day at a time
Who still had her heart filled with wonder
And I would tell her to never lose that spark in her eyes
I would tell her that her hands have the power to move rocks
And that her feet were made to walk miles and climb mountains
And if she ever feels burdened
All she has to do is let go of the weights
I would tell her not everyone will stay in her life forever
And that’s okay
I would tell her not to worry if life seems bleak
Because ten years down the line, the pieces will fit together
I would tell her not to stress so much over her future
Because ten years down the line, she still won’t have the answer
But her uncertain life in her imperfect little world
Will make perfect sense to her
I would tell her never to be ashamed
To let out the child within her heart
I would tell her that she’d never be old enough for cartoons
And that her little bed, crowded with her favorite stuffed toys
Will still always have enough place for her and her big dreams
I would tell her never to lose the spark of hope in her heart
And when the world forces cynicism and defeat down her throat
Quenching her thirst to make a difference
I would tell her that a little girl with big dreams and sparkly eyes
Will be waiting for her right here