In a faraway world, where everything stands still-
Across the turquoise sky, puffy white clouds
In deep slumber, scape the sight and hideaway
The antique tales of a prolonged yesterday.
The sundial shadows of precision,
Haunt the grotesque angles of vendatta-
Yet neither neglect nor care give a damn-
The sun tans the brows anyway.
Ancient scribbles stand engraved-
Nothing can corrode the words but
None know that forgotten alphabet
Or the spirits of that day.
Vast courtyards, where heirs were conceived,
Where blood was shed as much as tears
And the balance of justice weighed either way,
None know but the silent tombs and red walls.
As the daunting facades look over,
Today's poor beg for a rupee or two,
Under the grandeur and gait of fort walls
With frescoes and paints of evading hues.
None know the force that pushes
The fat man to walk the extra yard
And ride on elephants and be
Absorbed into self-contentment.
None know the reason for religion
And its glittering phallic towers,
Inevitable veneration or the perverted
Postulates of an unsound disposition.
None know the reason for humanity
Or its mongrelistic existence, scavenging
For pittance within concrete match boxes
In a universe of undoubted abundance.
None know the vile vogue,
Its insecticidal inundations and prowess
To captivate and blind with
Neon lights and inert air.
None know the political penury,
Its desperation and bloody fulfillment,
In sucking away hope and faith,
Reassuring today is better than yesterday.
None know the reasons,
But everyone marches towards an end-
Under the puffy white clouds
And jet planes that zip away, beyond.
The Light Shines The Brightest
Across the turquoise sky, puffy white clouds
In deep slumber, scape the sight and hideaway
The antique tales of a prolonged yesterday.
The sundial shadows of precision,
Haunt the grotesque angles of vendatta-
Yet neither neglect nor care give a damn-
The sun tans the brows anyway.
Ancient scribbles stand engraved-
Nothing can corrode the words but
None know that forgotten alphabet
Or the spirits of that day.
Vast courtyards, where heirs were conceived,
Where blood was shed as much as tears
And the balance of justice weighed either way,
None know but the silent tombs and red walls.
As the daunting facades look over,
Today's poor beg for a rupee or two,
Under the grandeur and gait of fort walls
With frescoes and paints of evading hues.
None know the force that pushes
The fat man to walk the extra yard
And ride on elephants and be
Absorbed into self-contentment.
None know the reason for religion
And its glittering phallic towers,
Inevitable veneration or the perverted
Postulates of an unsound disposition.
None know the reason for humanity
Or its mongrelistic existence, scavenging
For pittance within concrete match boxes
In a universe of undoubted abundance.
None know the vile vogue,
Its insecticidal inundations and prowess
To captivate and blind with
Neon lights and inert air.
None know the political penury,
Its desperation and bloody fulfillment,
In sucking away hope and faith,
Reassuring today is better than yesterday.
None know the reasons,
But everyone marches towards an end-
Under the puffy white clouds
And jet planes that zip away, beyond.
The Light Shines The Brightest
