Of Masks and Men

 In an air of virulent, virile hostility
Both biological and psychological
Questions asked to elicit numbers and actions
have now turned purely rhetorical

As the second wave hurtles around
Spreading at a frantic pace
Words are spoken from behind a mask
but actions show the real face

Actions contradicting words and sense
guide callous countless towards the beast
A million morsels get added to the feast

More maskless members of mankind
wander without caution, without cause
making light of the laws, which despite some flaws,
put some restraint on the monster's open jaws
Displaying disregard for the need of the hour

Regardless of their place in the pyramid of power

Everyday people, in everyday pain
struggle for every breath they inhale
Visuals of disdain and hordes without restraint
dominate the other end of the scale

In an air of virulent, virile hostility
Both biological and psychological
Stories slowly emerge
of a slow but certain surge
of a belief that fighting some fires is possible

While people perched at positions of power
or otherwise, do things that make others cower
weighing against them are multitudes motivated
to try and stop things from getting further aggravated

Despite all the tales and pride
about wealth and growth taking strides
A simple rag on the face
turns into the first saving grace

Ones and Naughts

Seen from afar we all seem similar
Digging further it seems we are not
The differences continue to seep in deep
Split us into the ones and the naughts
A massive melange of masses
Complicated, full of exceptions
gets overly simplified into ones and naughts
They get divided into classes
Ranking follows the division
Splits them into the ones and the nots

The split feeds the masses the ideations
of unruly powers of their own creation
The almighty benevolent doesn't stop malevolent thoughts
Walls get built where mere lines were sought
Binary pairs in several different hues
connected by similar outcomes which make the daily news

The righteous and the wrongful as taught
drive a solid sharp screen
through the muddy puddle in between
dividing it into the ones and the naughts
partitioning the ones from the nots
Their way is the one, those of others count for naught
To be the ones, follow the herd
those who do not will be heard not
The ones live in their bubble of a world
The naughts in a world with perils fraught

Similarities get washed out by the differences
Sensibility no longer stimulates the senses
While some seek to make the sections more dense
some seek to make the partitions less intense
Someone, somewhere raises a voice
lets out a stream of thought
that the ones need not be the only ones,
that the naughts ought not be the nots

Somewhere, the stream propagates
Somewhere, the venom deteriorates
Somewhere, the hope invigorates

Shiny New Thing

The shiny new thing makes itself felt bright and loud
An obsession with novelty fills the masses
More and more perceive it makes them feel proud
They want in on it, what if the chance passes
Something gets launched, gleaming, glowing, new
Something gets triggered, makes it difficult to eschew
Some concept put forth in an overly sparkling form
Greed over need has become the new norm
The shiny new thing creates a forced need to transform
The crowds now find it crucial to conform

The shiny new thing, flashy and scintillating
has the public in a craving debilitating
It goes viral, becomes the talk of the town
The clock, as always, slowly and surely ticks down
The winds soon slow down, it is no longer squallish
Meanwhile, something else is being painstakingly polished
The shiny new thing that recently brightly glowed
approaches the time to get discarded, disposed
Swiftly it came, now it swiftly gives way
and yet another like it now has its day

When the Waters Rose

On that fateful September day in 1908
the downpour had reached alarming rates
The torrential rains proved too much for several tanks
which overflowed towards the river's now submerging banks
The hydrological beast raged along its easterly course
There was little that could oppose its force
With the hospital drowned the sick and the relapsing
One by one the bridges started collapsing
The incessant downpour and the river in spate
Left the homes and markets in a shambolic state
Nature's might struck not far from the Four Towers
The waters rose and lives fell to the power

Enter a man from the kingdom of Mysore
who had made inroads into engineering folklore
Having worked some wonders with water
M Visvesvaraya was now sought after
and he was asked to present what he had in store
Appointed, he and his team got on with the assigned duty
He proposed a mix of engineering and aesthetic beauty

A dam-reservoir and a lake were proposed
upstream of where city life met the river's course
A measure aimed at containing the flow
to dispel some force before it could grow
In the middle of the disaster zone
it was proposed to make a way wide
Greenery would line the borders
Buildings would stand aside

The stitches slowly came up in time
The pearl was regaining its shine
The same beast that had swept away lives
would now be serving as a lifeline

For a few dozen years the beast benignly ran
Saw constructive and destructive conquests of man
The flow of power was appearing to have changed its course
As the beast, now polluted, was running out of force
It wasn't strong enough now, it could no longer raze
But nature inevitably teaches lessons in other ways

Both in the Hi-Tec world and far away
the glass and concrete proceed
The metaphorical waters rise,
the groundwater continues to recede
Upstream, the dam and lakes
no longer quench the thirst of the land
In the city, a muddled rivulet
runs through where heritage buildings stand
After a century and a decade and a year
Emerges a new beast, a different kind of fear
Like all urban jungles, the menace continues to grow
Like all urban jungles, a solution is the need of the hour
Like for all concrete jungles, testing times lie ahead
for the lands far and wide beyond the Four Towers

Lines in the Sand

The lines in the sand
make the frame of the man

Set by teachings since the day of inception
Set by preachings that shape perceptions
Alternate truths cause unexpected interruptions
hitting with unexplored differences
New realities bring in new disruptions
opening doors to previously unknown inferences
The lines in the sand put the mind in a spot
New frontiers stretch the journey of the train of thought
there comes a choice to rend the diverse with an iron hand
or to add a bend in the lines in the sand

And while the shifting lines in the sand
make the makeshift frame of the man
Wrought by time, the man chooses some lines
to not get rearranged, to hold together the frame
even as dunes move around in the wind of change

When differences grow into dire inferences
When outcomes are defended by citing shady references
When high-handedness of words apparently hallowed
adds a deadly depth to things much more shallow
When vehement claims of supremacy perceived
add further to the noise that deceives
When the lines in the sand paint a picture of pain
When scenes begin appearing forbidding and forlorn
There are limits to rethink, sense to be reclaimed
Some lines need to be wiped, some solidly redrawn

Trajectories

Some purposeful, point-to-point
Some heavily diverted to not disappoint
Some hovering low, down-to-earth
Some buried beneath the burden of their worth
Some soaring steadily in the sky
Some at their pinnacle which suddenly seems too high
Some struggling slowly against the tide
Some atop the crest taking a wild ride
Some well-established, tried and tested
Some spin off into the unexpected
Some rigid, straight, racing in one direction
Some slaloming, seeking more points of intersection
Some in parallel, bundled together, hard to deflect
Some striking surfaces which give reason to reflect
Some swerving towards the voids crowded, isolated
Some seeking change in the way they get extrapolated
Some deserve to be cut off to declutter the mess
Some demarcate solidarity in times of distress
Some enmesh complicatedly, intricately entangle
Some form meaningful shapes from certain angles
Some will clash and crash, drive each other astray
Some will take diversions to ensure another goes all the way

Imagination

Imagination opens wide its door
Takes me by surprise, sweeps me off the floor
I think I know enough to not be intimidated
But the imagination has me entirely captivated

Imagination continues to roll
Drags me deeper into the rabbit hole
I realise the hollowness of the sights and sounds
But the imagination presents yet another round

Imagination makes my worlds switch
A long canvas with fantasies vividly stitched
I seek solace from ghosts of situations past
But the imagination ensures that some of them last

Imagination comes at a cost
Taking its toll as I try to not get lost
I look for an escape from this state
But the imagination makes it difficult to navigate

Imagination continues to show its clout
For some relief, it temporarily lets me get out
I want to be firm and not get swayed
But the imagination shows that it is here to stay

Imagination is well aware of its might
Will always hang around, often wrong, rarely right
I continue striding through the better and the worse
But the imagination runs by my side with another universe