The ship may be broken but a boat survived…
The voyage was interrupted but the journey revived
Maps may be lost.. but new maps will be drawn..
Un-sailed waters will be covered, new routes will be born
An adventure awaits ahead, it’s not the end afterall,
Every great "rise" begins after the greatest "fall"….
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The ship may be broken but a boat survived…
There is this story I always wanted to write,
Never really got the plot completely right.
A story of love.. a story of friends…
Of a life lived well, no broken ends .
Tried writing short snippets adding to a tale,
Each time I tried, I would eventually fail.
The story still exists somewhere in my mind,
A tale made up from imagination and some memories left behind.
Sometimes the map proves wrong
Distances short, are eventually long
Planned routes, may not be right
Destinations sought, may not be in sight
Waters shallow may turn deep too
Ships may steer on a course all new
Direction less and lost one may be
Caught in a journey, never to be free
Still the journey has a purpose, and that it will fulfil,
Wanderers will find ways ofcourse, there’s always a will
For maps may be faulty, directions wrong
Still every journey has an end, no matter how long
The travel then will be a tale to narrate,
Of experiences new, unknown to the world till date
New maps will be made easing wanderers new
The wanderer who survives the journey will help others too
A prince in south Asia once,
Craved answers to questions many, didnt get a chance
Kept away for years from plight and sickness of many
He grew up, oblivious of troubles any
Until one day he saw sickness and death
Saw tears everywhere, old people he met
It troubled him a lot, what use were riches and pleasures of life
When death was an ultimate… old age and sickness for all was a common strife
How will then one find peace ?
How will one put a mind at ease ?
Bothered with these questions he left home,
In search of answers he began to roam.
Found renowned teachers, learned a lot
But still more answers he always sought
Atlast he meditated under a tree
Over there he was able to finally set his mind free
Won over his desires, was free from them all,
Jealousy, Anger, Greed, Fear, Lust and every troubled thought that could lead to one’s fall
A changed mind then.. led to a changed man,
Who changed the world around him, helped whoever he can
“You are.. what you believe you are !”, he said
Simple words, but profound effect they had
And so was born a messenger of peace
A saint who helped people put their minds at ease
Revered as a God, he was the best psychologist of his time,
Molded minds many, made even a killer shun crime
His teachings to this day are relevant infact,
Best practices always have the same impact!
And so ends a tale of the man who mastered the workings of a mind
Leading many ahead on the path to peace, losing all their pain behind !
An ode to Gautam Buddha – A prince, a warrior, a saint, a psychologist, a leader, a philosopher, a religious preacher and also a God !
He tried to write a tale too long…
Lost track in between.. wrote it all wrong!
In a cafe at night, he attempted to complete this tale,
His words he misspelt, his chain of thoughts would fail !
He attempted to write.. a perfect beginning.. and a perfect end,
Neither was possible, broken segments of the story, he had to mend !
That’s the trouble he faced, as a writer always…
Good stories needed high drama, twisted ways…
A single track written, never went well..
Writer’s block creped in…It was every writer’s hell!
Adding new twists changed the plot,
He never reached the end, he had always sought…
He tried to add an impromptu track every time
Even though it meddled with his story, changed the flow of his rhyme !
Old characters he created were forgotten in lieu of characters new
Who were the protagonists now of his story? He himself never knew..
And thus the writer who sought a perfect end
Tried writing a reality, which he could never mend
For every fix he tried, another end seemed a mess
His tale was going nowhere, that was his best guess !
With words he played – my writer friend,
Started incomplete tales with no end !
Closure he sought everytime,
Got distracted though in-between the rhyme !
And so moved on… his random strife…
To write down a story – a complete life !
Though characters new, he created always – couldn’t control their fate !
An end to his writer’s block, is what the characters still await…
Bored he was in the middle of the night
In a dark room.. cold..only AC’s indicator light
tried to sleep..but sleep alluded
As if to avoid him..even dreams colluded
Bored too much.. he tried passing time
Beginning to write another random rhyme
Perhaps a tale…brewing in his mind
Of characters – some new.. some old left behind
Word after word, he spun a tale new
Thoughts too many filtered to lines few
The best part was that he could write the end
Every twist in tale… he would eventually mend
The writer loved this power he had
A different world he created on his writing pad
Reality perhaps lead him to an insomnia filled night,
But in his tales he wrote his dreams.. setting every ending right …
Old man John worried a lot
Cribbed about life… never peace he got..
Cranky as usual.. he went on a walk,
And there in a park he heard someone talk..
" Life’s like that.. neither good nor bad
A coin’s two faces – one flip happy, one flip sad
Then why take stress in the happy phase..
Rather live high in the worst of days !
Don’t search for a meaning to life
Rather add one every moment.. That’s an easier strife .."
Cranky old John had new thoughts in his head
He never met that stranger.. but on the path shown by him, he now tread..
A wanderer once travelled to find…
Through new experiences his peace of mind
Distant places he explored new..
Adventures too…he had his share few
But all awhile his goal still remained
Through experiences many…peace he hadn’t gained
He returned to his homeland…found estranged family, separated old friends…
Patched up relations…mended broken ends..
And so in the end..he found his peace..
Travel was terrific…but home was his final bliss !
“I had a dream last night, like every night, the same dream… I really don’t know what to do.. what should I do?? “ – said Raghav.
Raghav was the local outlaw. Petty thief, small-time goon, occasional drunkard… overall a societial misfit. A file on him existed in the Belva police chowki. Belva – a small town near a river was once just a small village. In the last decade, the nearby villages were added under a single administration and the village expanded to be the centre of the smallest township in the state. Agriculture was a fading occupation and small-scale industries looming with more and more villagers (now townsfolk) opening up to the idea of working in the factories set up in town. Law and order was not a big issue, except of local ruffians like Raghav which caused a menace in the locality.
Raghav was once a “tangewala” (horse-cart man) in the village. He ferried passengers for a rupee from one end of the village to another. He had taken on his father’s job at a very young age of 10, after his father died of a heat stroke during a drought 12 years back. But in the recent years, the municipality had started buses for the townsfolk and no one preferred a bumpy tangewala ride anymore. He had no other vocation and resorted to thievery to sustain himself
Raghav went to the local seer to discuss his problem. For the past 2 months he was seeing the same dream. He had met many astrologers, seers, doctors, witch-doctors, tantriks earlier hoping to get a solution to his problem. This was his last hope.
AnjuMa was a very old woman. The entire locality called her Ma, young and old alike… she was probably the oldest woman in the locality who had seen the transformation of the village to a town in the last fifty years. She went through Raghav’s kundli. She despised him like many others in the locality, but he was willing to pay a good amount to listen to his problem, and she needed the money to run the house. In the past 15 years, ill-fate had marked her too. Her husband passed away and so did her son and daughter-in-law. She was left to fend for herself and her grand-daughter. With great determination she raised her “betiyaan” who grew up to be an intelligent smart young girl. She stayed in the city hostel last few years and had come home only last week after completing her studies.
“Beta, tell me in entirety, this dream you speak of.” – she told Raghav
“Well, it always start with me waking up in the dream. I wake up in a night desert. I feel lost in the sand. I try finding my way.. and I see a fire in the dark sand-filled land. I approach towards it and I see two men near the fire. Next to them is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. She is unconscious and tied up. I ask the men about her and they attack me. I always defeat them in our fight. Then I untie the girl and hold her in my arms. She opens her eyes and asks me “Who are you?”. And that is when the dream ends…” – said Raghav
“Interesting.. Have you spoken to anyone else about the dream? “ – she asked
“Yes, to a lot of people. First they said the dreams will fade away, then they said I was possessed and tried treating me for same, but last month a very wise seer, I met in kumbhmela, told me that the land I wake up in is the darkness within me. The dacoits are my weaknesses and bad habits, the ones I defeat for this girl. The girl will be my one true love. Before I could ask where I will find her, he disappeared in the crowd. Since then I am searching for her. Help me AnjuMa..help me… I will give you money and also my protection. This girl will change me.. she will help me live a new life…I need to find her…” – said Raghav.
“Relax beta…let me speak now… I have seen your Kundli. Believe me in the last 75 years I have heard many such stories from young man. The old seer you met, he bluffed. He tried giving you a false hope, so that you have a purpose in life. But you failed to see that. You failed to tread on the path he intended. Your dream is not true, there is no such girl in the world. But your inner darkness that you saw as desert, your bad habits that you saw as dacoits, they are real. Defeat them first. Be a better man. Perhaps then you may also find a suitable wife and settle happily. That’s what I can surely see in the future.. if you follow my advice.” – said AnjuMa.
“You are right AnjuMa, you have opened my eyes.. I will try to do as you say. But the dream.. the girl..she was so beautiful.. so real..I really hoped she existed.. I would have left the entire world, just for her..sigh..Here is your money.. I will return to find more answers, after I am a better man…”- these were Raghav’s parting words.
As AnjuMa closed the door on Raghav, she heard a shriek and went straight to the bedroom. “What happened betiyaan.. having nightmares again?”- she asked her grand-daughter.
Her grand-daughter replied, “ Yes Amma, same one again. I woke up in my dream to find myself in the arms of some random strange man. He was staring at me, it was a cold desert, with a fire nearby and two unconscious men. I asked him – “Who are you?” and then before he could answer I was sucked in darkness and I woke up again…just like every time ! “