Saturday, December 18, 2010


Standing between two mirrors
And looking at your own images
Mirrors within mirrors - all full of your own image
And helping your eyes find where it ends,
An exercise in futility.

Sometimes, coming back to yourself
Is like waking up from a million dreams
Waking up from a sleep, within a sleep
And tracing it all back to the real sleep
And the real reality.

They try to fence it for us, all in good faith.
Give us only one mirror, so that we don't
Drive ourselves insane.
They try to tell us to walk a path that has been
Etched on the Earth's heart - all for the sake of sanity.

But then, the image becomes reality..
With no questions asked, no answers sought..
And our image, sometimes becomes the only reality..
Where is the beauty then, of all the images?
Of you in all your forms, real and surreal
Of not believing in all of them, but of kind acceptance?

And, the understanding that if not all,
Some around me, may also have
Their own two mirrors to look into..
And the rest may choose to see..
Their image as the only reality!

Saturday, December 11, 2010


There is only so much you can dream
Some days just pass by making
Little paper balls out of rejected dreams..
Too optimistic, too dramatic, too sweet
Too contrived and hard to believe..

It rains outside incessantly, and your feet,
Lend their spirits to your mind..
So it keeps flashing stories at you..
Stories, that would never become reality
And even if they do, they would perhaps be not as good,
As when they were stories on a rainy afternoon.

Nostalgia is overrated too.
How you hanker for a place and the time
That made that place what it is in your mind,
On return, the place has happily moved on,
It has embraced its future confidently without you..

You throw a few more paper balls into the bin
And get back to work. Try to worry about something.
If not worry, just a space, a comma for the sake of solace,
I wonder how sometimes, cynics and dreamers
Are brought to the same place!