Tag Archive: Tale


Ignorance

Common friends were many,
Yet they noticed each other’s face.
Ignorance was mutual,
Still heartbeats increased in pace.

An incomplete tale was their past,
Feelings they thought would forever last…
But life had its twists and turns all along,
Soon the right choice faded… the relation seemed wrong.

"Mutual Breakup" was the diplomatic answer for friends,
"Moving on" to new beginnings leaving behind broken ends.
Both were happy in their own worlds now,
Yet social gatherings like these were still awkward somehow.

Ignorance though was a game well played,
Filmy situation it seemed, a Bollywood moment so swayed.
Background music was lacking, but drama persisted,
To even say a "Hi" – seemed a crime that both resisted.

And so went on a silent night…
Lovers had moved on, but two friends missed each other yet continued the fight 🙂

Lets start a brand new story !

Lets start a brand new story
Fresh page – blank, no past worry
Lets start with self, and weave a tale new
No baggage from the past, not even snippets few

Meet new people, make a new start
On the canvas of life, make some new art
An art focussing on self … listen to your inner-voice
Choose your own colours, don’t let others influence your choice

Not everyone can be pleased, nor will everyone leave
What matters most is that in one-self, one must believe
With self-belief, move ahead and live your new tale
It’s still a vast sea out there – unexplored, just reach out and sail

I wanted to write a story

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

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

An ode to Gautam Buddha

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…

The Clown

Once upon a time in an Indian town

A storyteller wrote the story of a clown

"Vidushak" he named him, spun a tale new

Snippets of the guy’s life… From memories of a life he knew…

 

"Vidh" (let’s just call him that) was once a boy

Who loved puppets.. always had one as a toy

Played with them.. Enacted tales too

Some imaginary.. Some partially true

 

In tales he lived and dreamed as well

His tales were his world.. His heaven and his hell

Through tales he captured people’s attention

Made them feel every intense emotion

 

Soon though the crowd started ignoring him

For though a good puppeteer nobody liked tales grim

He changed his act, became a clown

Decided that his audience will never frown

 

And so his tales evoked a single emotion now

Laughter he gave to the world, hiding his other emotions somehow

For every tear, every fear, every negative emotion he ever faced

Was his forever.. never shared.. never surfaced

 

And thus went on a circus life…

Imbibed in which was a random clown’s strife..

And so a tale ceased…

He flipped through pages reading an old book again
A tragic tale, he knew, ending with the protagonist in pain

Why re-read the same till the end, he thought
Only the high he got half-way in the tale, that’s all he sought

And so now he left it there, a book half-read
For better leave a good tale incomplete, rather than eventual dread

A tale till the time when things seem in place
When an ending isn’t sought, no need to increase the pace

He stopped flipping pages thereafter, leaving the protagonist at peace
A half-story was successful, and so a tale ceased…

What if the roles were reversed ? RL Stevenson’s tale has two major protagonists,

1. The Hero – Dr. Jekyll – The good personality ,

2. The Villain – Mr. Hyde – The bad personality.

This classic tale portrays how Dr. Jekyll creates a potion through which his inner negative personality comes out, the Id takes over the Ego and Super-Ego.

Id is portrayed as negative, raw, villainous, angry – someone undesired in the society and tamed by society and culture by the overlaying layers of Ego and Super-Ego.

Id in its raw form is looked upon as an animal – Mr. Hyde.

What if this animal caged within the Ego and Super-Ego, had a different voice, a different story to tell. In the story , Dr. Jekyll writes a letter, discovered upon his death, telling his side of the tale.
In a different take on the same, Mr. Hyde writes his version:

—————————————————————————-

“I was always there, more vocal in our youth, before I got subdued again and again. Who am I? I am Mr. Hyde. I am the Id present in Dr. Jekyll. I always was present in Dr. Jekyll. As a young school student, I was the most vocal I could be. Most expressive. I m the summation of all emotions, in all their extremities ever experienced by Jekyll. I am also the summation of all desires ever felt, all thoughts ever occurred, all happiness, all sadness, all anger, all pleasures, all pain. I was vocal in our childhood when I cried at the slightest pain, I laughed at the slightest humour, I got excited at the slightest pleasure, I got sad at the slightest sorrow. I was expressive and free, like a bird in an open sky. In years that followed, more and more interactions occurred. With family first, then with friends, then acquaintances, then strangers, the society at large. Strangers became acquaintances, acquaintances became friends, and friends became as close as family. Jekyll had a place now, in society, in this vast jungle, he felt he belonged to a herd now, a herd of humans, civilization they called it, a society of culture, a society of rules. In it he felt new emotions, new feelings, new desires… I tried expressing them all, for that was my identity.. but he subdued me. He stopped me from expressing. If i tried to cry when in pain, he held me by my neck and throttled my voice. If I tried to express anger at being wronged, he covered me with a sheet and let me suffocate in a blind room. Even laughter was not spared, I had to measure the sound, the smile, the expression.. everything. This change in behaviour.. this separation of me from myself.. of Hyde from Jekyll.. was something I had never fathomed. I realised that Jekyll feared something. Something from the society. He perhaps feared of being judged at every action of his and therefore suppressed my actions to avoid those judgements. He feared an ouster from the herd, the herd he now belonged to, of civilized adult humans, each having his own sense of society and culture, each wanting to hide his “Id”, his inner self from the other, each having their own fears – Fear of been exploited on one’s weakness, fear of been misjudged, fear of ridicule, fear of abandonment, fear of suppression from an external world. To protect himself, he throttled me. He caged me. In a two layer cage, I remained, able to voice myself at times, but not always. At all times I was judged, by not the society, but by Jekyll, who felt it better to kill his inner self, in order to protect an outer image. When he created that potion, when he dissolved that very cage he had built, I felt free again.. Free to express myself, free to let out all the repressed emotions, feelings and desires that were subdued over the years. But they were just too many. What came out therefore was a far more undiluted expression of self, uncontrollable, un-steered and direction-less. Had I not been subdued over the years, I would have perhaps not been so angry, so much in pain. I am but just a part of Jekyll. Good or Evil, I have no stance. All I know is that I am what the Jekyll felt, what he was, but what he never expressed. Normal / Abnormal – that depends on the definition. When I was caged I was “Normal” but perceived to be Abnormal by the society that Dr. Jekyll was scrutinized to. When I was uncaged, the new man that I was, Mr. Hyde was not Normal by any means in in the society, but I as an independent man, free from my cage, free from Jekyll, and I felt normal at last. Would things been different had Jekyll not made that potion ? Perhaps…

But wouldn’t things been better, had he never caged me in the first place… I just keep wondering that over and over again….