Development v/s Nature
My new water color art work….
Development v/s Nature
My new water color art work….
Since that moment, I felt I am an human,
I acted like that…..
Day and night I pursued all duties,
All morals, all tradition.
Which I loved, which I obeyed,
Some of those were hanged on back.
But today I feel bored, of being not that suits…
To current scenario of behaving,
And of punishing.
Here I lost those I taught in school,
Those I learner in college,
Now don’t work here,
It’s been paralyze…. Paralyze my goodwills.
I stuck between humanity and human…
Who was those people, who had written these impractical theories…
I found wrong..
Perhaps…. From the long time
I have been hidden inside the layers of these papers of idealism, which stand false.
I am bored of being gentleman,
Let me unlock my own,
The Human…..so called animal species.
Let me unlock this,
Let it come out and let it roar….
I admit the virtue of almighty,
Their rules never proves their charm here….
I am a resident of India…
The land of God’s..
People say and relates,
Everything said and written here,
Are words of God…
But they amit not follow,
Sayings turned only sayings…
And they proven to be wrong.
And now myths have brain.. to modify and to sweat under the rain..
Idealism have no meaning here, showcase opens where…
I bored been a gentleman…
Want to unlock the animal’s chain…
I answered and murdered by my own.
I cheated myself on the myths of,
From ancients to formers.
Being wild to deputed,
I travelled so far, that
When I look after forgottens,
I laugh and admire my success..
But, is that much true…. What I thought?
I proudly said yes!I am.
A small finger point at me,
Trough the bottom of my heart and,
I dismissed it’s hearing.
That is what I am doing from a long time.
I know that, somewhere somewhat I am cheating on me….
I modified the definition of being developed,
I replaced the word as I convenient.
To hide the truths behind the myths.
I pretended several times with a smile on my face…
Admitting that what I am doing is the only trend.
I refused to mess with presence,
I stop even to understand the differences,
Between being developed and undeveloped,
I changed the meanings of both words.
Development measures the physical state of our life style not that was related to intellectual.
Undeveloped means only being not earning much to satisfy desired life style.
Is it not so?
I admitted yes!
Money is first and last thing to do with all others.
Perhaps! I am right but my heart rebel brain.
It still points a finger….
That I lacking the development of
State of my mind,
I still behind to except the changes,
Related to socialism, religion and morality.
And it’s true… when I talks about these I fell stuck….
And my heart runs away from my brain… Being developed to less developed…
Long ago in history,
Paper read to cover mistry.
To recollect the intellectuals of minds,
Which worked towards the innovation.
Of scientific approaches,
Of bitterness which they faced and
They declared them paths,
Of loneliness to completeness,
To illiterate to educated.
That was a glory of ink,
Which severed the innovations and mankind….
Aah! Today ink abuses,
In the era of vast knowledge,
From deeper to Galaxy.
The ink abuses…. To the mankind
To humanity, to morals to ethics.
All lost into the drains,
Of educated illiterates.
It lost its ways of eagerness,
It terms a circumference of no ways.
Moulding the same ways of positiveness,
Into the wrong ways which they dropped, after experience.
The ink abuses….. Where we are walking,
To whom we are talking,
Blaming other of own failure,
Dragging other for success.
Is that what our old ink taught us??
Is that what our history led us??
Now ink abuses….
Writers write to be popular,
Anything wright or wrong, people blindly troll them..
For business or fooling themselves…
…… Now ink abuses…..
Hiding facts and spreed myths,
It became the reality beneath..
And it’s obvious to she because
Every one wants to enjoy,
Others guild, other myths..
Bitter taste unhealthy for heart,
And wrong medicines lead you apart…
Facts are known but we still unknown.
Because ink abuses….
Fragrance through the Garden,
Caught several time my pardon.
It is a little new born Butterfly,
Who broke it’s exoskeleton,
It was hanged from number of weeks,
Just above my head,
In tiny balcony of mine.
I used to see it in those days,
I grew few flower plants for it,
2 white lilies and one Mogra.
I wished it would stay here forever,
As my child and part of mine.
I created few artefacts of flowers,
Decorated windows as garden.
And spread scent to feel home.
Its not been a day it came out,
It gone through all flowers,
And it tried to break glass,
To left my home and to pass.
I forgot its a nature,
Whom I tried to tie,
In my selfish little desire,
But its a nature of new born,
Only fragrance could it tie.
I could love you more than,
But alignment of line,
Was not sure.
We turned in all directions,
Sometimes my predictions gone wrong. It’s you or your beauty,
Which bind my hands.
It’s you or you vocals,
Which hide my voice.
It’s you or your arguments,
Which tide my flow.
Everything happend between,
Like a ideal pair of love.
I could love you more, than
It was you or your illegal conditions,
Which dragged me to stop.
It was you or your affections,
Which rolled my hope.
We were paragon of our kinds,
But we could lead others mind.
If I could love you more, than
It was me or my fear,
Which led you to accept sorrow air.
It was me or my tear,
Which conviced you not to alarm a dear.
My part I played as a common man,
You could love me more than,