Vinod Narayan

When the stillness of silence looks eternal
A melody of truth will come playing in
Amidst the silent cries of your shattered world
There will be a moment that will beam the truth

“As the fairness of grey reveals the purity of age
The mind need be fresh with the innocence of life”

The mind; a child to the man who bears it
Will always try to grow up to the world
Don’t let it grow for there is never an end
Let it be unlearned and untamed as ever

The world will grow bigger and mean in time
And you will never be able to catch up to it
So instead of getting lost in its crowded streets
Your untaught mind, can show you the way

And when your body gets aged to perfection
Awaiting life’s final barbeque
You will have a mind so bright and original
That will be unscathed in the scorching heat

Every day during the morning hour
As my Laptop Screen screams light
The pixels slowly making way for words
The news is fed of the world I live

All I can grapple in one single hour
Stories of people some dark some bright
Triumphs, failures, births and murders
And among them the truth does thrive

I pick a news that is very much local
Click my way through the links at large
Before I know I am oceans away
Some distant land I have never heard

News of some unknown man’s fall
His fights with life as misfortunes take charge
His faith, his beliefs and hopes each day
Giving clarity to a life already blurred

The time on my screen calls out one hour
Time to get ready with the morning chores
The coffee, the bath and breaking the fast
And the drive to work for yet another day

I treasure the power of this morning hour
When I befriend with people in distant shores
Who dreamt of the future and defeated their past
And my life in an hour resets every day

The Dampness in the Room had a tricky smell
The color of the curtains still bore faint rays of the evening sun
Time has stopped but the clock needles struggled to click
The fireplace still active, engulfed the remaining pieces of wood

Brutality slept chained in a corner and snored
Monalisa hung hidden behind the cupboard wall
The kettle stopped whistling when the last drop vanished
The footsteps neared and the door knob moved

The grip tightened and the breathing slowed
The slight creak of the door and the gunshot followed
Silenced with no words, no history and no future to see
The next day time revived and removed the last visible stains of blood

No one even noticed the chained brutality for it had disappeared into the darkness, before time could catch up to it.