Walking with my injured leg,
Limping up and down steps cold,
I keep reciting to myself:
Down with the bad and Up with the good.
Facts of life, reassured.

Another pebble in the river,
Unearthed in sands of time,
I feel fulfilled, satisfied when drunk
among friends who barely understand but withstand.

This psyche communicates better in code
than in a language foretold.
It is maybe the recursion, the patterns
that fit like solutions to a maze.

I stumble and bumble my way across,
stepping on foots of people misunderstood;
Numbers, alone, stay above, beyond criticism,
You get it or you just dont.

Amadeus, Pi, Matrix, Fight club, Inception,
Movies of infinite precision;
What I perceive, no one else does;
Childish yes but vast the possibility.

I have no regrets. I am what I am.
Folly is ye to interpret.

Came across this gem from Kipling and had to write about it. It concisely lays out the virtues of a great man. Just another stark reminder to all of us on how hard we need to strive to become a ‘Man’. And that too in plain simple words. Striking.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

I had an argument, in an elated state
Few years back, with someone who understood
The idea, but not through my eyes, a distorted palate,
Here I am again, watching, standing on what I believe.

This movie, a rebellion from mundane existence,
Far moved thoughts, than Matrix ever has.
Absolute resignation the key, to rise, to see,
An aghori created within,
To know, to discern Liberation.
Here’s another master piece, misunderstood.

This is another reason why I watch as many movies as I do and read as many fiction/poetry as I can get my hands on. May be I’m still searching for that affirmation for what I think I know…

Just taking a walk on a beautiful morning,
Watching fall colours waving in a dance,
Blending with rustling symphony of leaves,
Breaking the trance, cool, serene, gusts wafting
A remote breakfast, delicious flavor, stimulating
Higher senses without effort.

Another day, mundane incident.
Beauty immeasurable. Senses fulfilled.
A life enriched.

Being hungry a minute and devoid of it the next,
The sated feeling fills body and mind;
If only food and everything else tasted heavenly
Like this, every moment, beyond deliverance.

One thought opposes, another cheers on,
In difference, another sense of satisfaction.
All transient pleasures short lived in eternal time,
May be only the final sleep will quench this thirst.

I’ve hummed along to the beat of this song by Wolfmother so many times but just listened to the lyrics and found them graceful and beautiful. Here’s the full lyrics for the song.

When the time is right and the night is bright
We will see the things we’ve come to find
I’ve been searching for just a little more
but the days girl just slip away
And the red sunset that we just met
I can see forever

Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try
Come and see the mind’s eye
Transfixed upon the why
Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try

Well they say it’s right if it feels alright
When your love burns up in the mire
So I burnt a fire for a lost desire
See it burning higher

Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try
Come and see the mind’s eye
Transfixed upon the why
Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try

I’ve got to admit, there is some nice word play and poetry in there. Subtle and elegant.

In pain, and satisfied like a well-fed child,
Conquering 22 miles in agony, amongst lost strides,
In training, the test still weeks away,
Work to be finished, and more miles ahead,
Another journey with high hopes, treads.

A good week, I presumed.
Bugs fixed, a near marathon complete,
but a little thought reveals a treat,
Of more work remaining,
Completion never in the vicinity.

Cause and effect do change,
Perspectives, opinions and ambition;
Work unfinished, drives and stalls elation.
Does all this work still make the difference,
Between life and beyond ?

I understand, action begets action, the inevitable,
The more you try, the deeper you sink;
Like caught in a quick sand, terrible
the fright, the action necessary is to avoid action.
When will I learn ?

It came by, it passed,
Like every other day, the past year has;
Memories past, of fun and frolic, linger,
Every night with friends, included.

With buddies and wine missing here
I sit solemn working on my code;
Come far I have, the past 15 years
To reach the end of another episode.

One day past, the fun does it last ?
Here comes a new day with aspirations aloft.
One more year. One more day.
and I still really don’t feel that old…

Chance creates passages in ways unthought,
Where lies the thrill in chaos fought ?
Friends lead the stranded mind,
Subtle yet sure the games and its deliverance.

A revelation. A passing memory.
Knowing knowledge cures, is half the journey.