The Joy of Free Falling

I've shared this experience before, with people having dance as a common interest-

The weather was so good this morning, that I felt like dancing and I fell at the first turn! Not the first time for me. I got a painful bruise; but somehow I feel like laughing everytime I fall, even if it hurts. May be it's because falling reminds me of a carefree childhood- learning to walk for the first time, riding a bicycle, playing. We've all had our fair share of bruises. And we'd proudly show those off to our friends, boasting of surviving some grand accident. Growing up, we encounter falls and risings, making mistakes and learning from those mistakes. Yes we cried, but next minute forgot it ever happened and never gave up.

But once we learn those elementary things and get used to the world around, slowly, we become cautious as we forget how falling feels-  Be it physical or metaphorical. And since the fear of a thing comes from not knowing it, we become more and more scared of it, and stop trying new things or taking risks in our lives.Worse, we learn to complain if we get bruises.

And slowly life becomes mundane. To fill that void we start filling it with stuff money could buy but don't really need and so we become materialistic.

Our society, our culture expects us to be graceful as a grown up. So no more climbing trees, or dancing in the streets, or shouting at the top of our lungs, or skipping the steps on the stairs and no more the joys of free falling. To experience these, we need to make special provisions, but it can't be at the spur of the moment. Whenever and wherever we want. We learn to practice restraint, be responsible, disciplined.

But do we really want to be a conformist to these norms or live our limited time on our own terms?

What would you choose, would you let go of those innocent impulses or would you choose to let go and experience that free fall?

The Industrial Revolution

'Cause existence must have a proof,

so we produce and reproduce.

Our love must have a face

so even with no space

and no meaning to keep

production must still increase.

Philosophers lament this age.

Who? Are they still part of human race?

One day and we already are

being suffocated at this hour.

Our love must have a proof

so I must reproduce a you.

I am a real misery,

so we must reproduce a me.

Supervisor says he wants result,

disguised religion follows only one cult-

where living are muted and undead shriek

real WMD was already used and sheathed,
with spirit dead the conflict ceased.

They chant- Produce and reproduce

so we produce and reproduce

Hinhinata Ghoda

Bakri Ki Shadi

Big Question

Little honey bee at the honeycomb,
just a day out of her mother's womb.
Sees the world wide eyed brimming with disbelief-
"Where have I landed?", "Its called a mulberry leaf".
she turned her inverted pyramid head
to spot the source from where the voice led.

Wrinkled wriggly thing she sees-
"Is this some rotten vine?" says she.
"A who not a what if you please
I'm an earthworm miss"- offended he speaks.

"But where are your eyes and where is your nose?"
"I'm the one who can't see and yet knows
more about the world and though with these scales I look old
I just turned two this spring let you be told.
I don't need a nose I don't need no seeing,
I'm a  guy and a gal, a spectacular being."

The little bee is amazed but as she's so little,
everything is a wonder and her interests are fickle.
She soon turns her head and asks Mr. worm-
"Whats that lovely blue thing with black center and patterns like tricorn?"

" 'Tis a yellow flower and no black center to see!
There's no pattern! It's a  simple yellow stupid bee!"
Bee thinks him no wiser for such a retort,
but for his prerogative- an earlier birth, she stifles her snort.

And he tells her not to be so fickle as is she,
"To live she should follow her heart and let focus be the key."
"Does he always follow his heart", asks she?
"Oh why not, though I have five of them you see!"

Brimming with questions like always are little babes-
What is it that her new friend loves and what does he hate?
"Oh I love the smell of the earth and its delicacy,
while the thing that I hate the most has to be hypocrisy!"

"Is there a much larger life out there somewhere across?
Beyond the velvet bed beyond that sheet of moss?"
and he says it's all a propaganda- the mores and ethos,
just made up stuff to prevent chaos.

"Who's a propaganda?" asks the bee baby.
"Ah If you knew that one you would go crazy,
so step aside now and let me dig some earth",
earthworm turned his head and resumed his work.
By noon became a bird's meal for what he was worth.

Time Traveller

We know the travel of space

n cross it at our pace

'Tis time we can't hold,

can't control

feel it pass by

Old wise wizard stands high

In the wilderness sometimes you meet some hosts

By looks illiterate those city dwellers boast

Their Teacher is nature itself

and what we don't know they can tell

By fireside under starry night

When all cept the wind is quite

They speak of Time traveller- the learned one

Who spoke matters of science and of faith he spake none;

lost his loved ones once to one of time's pun

Old wizard turned them into memories

He held them long,

refused to move on

N could never set them free

Time tried to heal his wound

but he swore to conquer him soon

"if he could travel faster than light

Victory will be on his side"

And He worked day and night

by the burning lamp's side

calculating always in thoughts so deep

that he knew no sleep n would forget to eat

He ignored all life happening around him

N then one day life stopped happening for him

And he didn't realise but he'd travelled time!

They say the mind travels faster than light or time

that's how dreams and memories we find

fast forward in time chasing dreams

or living in past chasing shadows

n smwhr between it all we let the present go

All this they tell of our generous hosts

who told us this tale of time traveller's ghost