SHAKING THE DIVINE REALM

Deep within the depth of darkness
Far beneath the voice of masses
The infant in distress cries and howls
Helplessly striving at dismantling deadlocks
To have a glimpse of the morning sun
To feel the freshness of free air

The wall is vaguely transparent
And thick like a foggy glass
Though rays can penetrate
Yet difficult to breakthrough

The struggle shook the divine realm
The merciful lord ordained " Lo ! Teach him
The lessons of Shawshank Redemption"

mashoodkk

Anxiety about Reality

If it is part of reality, in the sense that it has a significance beyond the personal, we don't have to be anxious of loosing sight of it. We will confront it again and again in one form or the other, in one corner or a different. Benefit of doubt is an insult to truth. By virtue of its characteristics, the best thing it deserves is negation, so that ultimately we realise its concreteness.

mashoodkk

MISTAKES

Mistakes connote the spirit of experimentation, in spite of the probability existing for failures and personal setbacks, despite of experiencing them. It has little to do with being dumb, scared and erring there by. It is a way of life, where life is an experiment - experiment with truth or falsehood, as one wishes, all at one's own risk.

mashoodkk

Waiting for Rebirth

I saw myself
Through eyes of others

I became blind
And cursed darkness

Soaked in tears
I melted to death

Dead, relieved
Sat waiting for my rebirth

mashoodkk

TEMPTATION

Paradise unveiled
Mind overwhelmed

Fruit beckons
Serpent dances

Reality fades
Vanity rules

Axioms lost
We glide into
To be kicked out
Deceived, disowned.

mashoodkk

Contradiction

Desire and the desired will slip from you ....
Fear and the feared will dawn on you....
She is a walking contradiction
Beneath her bosom lies salvation

mashoodkk

CONFESSIONS OF A CONVALESCENT

Whomever I hated or thought of as my enemies, were mostly those who did not see things through my eyes. Experience revealed the fact that my eyes were only two among the multi billion eyes existing. The hope for a better future lies in the ability to see the world through others eyes. Ironically this begins with the eyes turning inwards, for he who is a stranger to thyself will be a stranger to everyone.

mashoodkk

WAITING, IMPATIENCE AND ARRIVAL

I was waiting, waiting..
Impatience was looming

I still waited
Impatience bottled

Stirring was intense
Wide open were eyes

When will be the arrival?
Heart burned like hell
When will be the arrival?

I was tired
Waiting ceased
Impatience faded
Mind slowly detached

And it arrived !
There it stood
Right in the front

Buddha smiles.

mashoodkk

RESURRECTION OF THE WARRIOR

And the only fight worth fighting is on.....

Heads will roll, castles will crumble, arrows will rain.....
Not a drop of blood, never a piece of flesh, no fury of rage.....

Violence of Buddha and the silence of Krishna ....
Revenge of Jesus and the sobriety of Muhammed.....
All in a silent ground, under the naked eyes of angels......

In the midst of infant innocence and smiles....
Sleepless nights, flying dragons and nightmarish moments...

All just for a ray of light.....
Light of clarity, lamp of simplicity...
A flashing glimpse of the virtues of eternity.....

mashoodkk

CONFESSIONS OF A CONVALESCENT

Sorry to all those whom I ever hated......I thought you were my enemies......It took a bit long for me to realise that real enemies of mine lies not outside.......but deep within inside.....in the dark corners of my own psyche.......

mashoodkk

Spiritual Illiteracy

Hours and years ticked by
I remain still a mere nobody

Scorching torture from within
Conscience turned tyrant reigning

It is hard to bear material poverty
Unbearable are the streams of spiritual illiteracy.

mashoodkk

Tomorrow........

Tomorrow I will write about the little lilies
Dancing rainbows and flying butterflies

Tonight let me remain awake
Fabric of a dream is in the make

Early morning we will leave,
In the dewdrops we will dance
We will play with little lambs
Wet in the rain, heart in the air.

mashoodkk

KILLING THE KRISHNA WITHIN....

An inner unrest, anxiety and teeming fear
To comply, to conform, to perceptions exterior

Killing the Krishna within, while in the field
Leaves Arjuna no much choice, but wither and lament.

mashoodkk

BUDDHA SMILES......

Free ride over the random waves of mind
In moments we are lost with land far behind

Then follows yelling and screaming of life's miseries
In a silent corner, under the shades, Buddha sit and smiles.

mashoodkk

PARASITE OF LIFE

Imageries of a scary tomorrow
Like a mite, feeding on life's marrow

Oh fear ! Was thine ugly spirit afloat
In mine early moments like a blot

Or was it the vulgar hands of culture
That robbed me of my vitality and vigor.

mashoodkk

THE BATTLE FIELD WITHIN

Our analytic mind sink like a solid through the viscous time into darkness, paving way for inaction and hedonism, unless painstaking effort keep it afloat. It seems like the law of nature that striving and struggling has got no substitute as far as progress is concerned. Nature ruthlessly ensures perdition to the dull and lazy. Nevertheless battling the hurdles can be turned to a challenging and not mere frustrating experience, with sufficient vision and wisdom. Akin to the being trapped between the devil and the sea, we too often get caught in the either extremes of vulgar laziness or unbearable strain. The problem turns to that of management then. Self knowledge always is the key for self management. Surprisingly we would realize at a moment that the greatest of our enemies were within, roaming freely in our own fort, disguised as well wishers. The sharpness of our wit and analysis, the accumulated experiences of the past......every weapon in our armory will have to be taken out if we have to stay in the battlefield.

mashoodkk

PSYCHIC REALITY AND OBJECTIVE REALITY

If we scroll through our past, it won't be difficult to recall instances where our perceptions had nothing to do with reality, which we could realize only after the whole episode of events rolled by. Irrespective of the essence and characteristics of the perceptions, delusions reigned like as if concrete, at times euphoric while at others scary. There come into picture the significance of the ability to see things as it is and not as we are. The road to simplicity starts from here. The challenge lies in the fact that no path is more complex than that running towards simplicity.

mashoodkk

THE INNER ENEMY OF PHYSICS - A LATE NIGHT EXPERIENCE

Few minutes with physics....that was enough. Introspection revealed the automatic activation of certain thought structures. High voltage sentences started emerging out from them, with rhythm and passion, as if they were so subtly keen to snatch the spotlight of my attention away from physics. Initially the effort was for an equal share, but over the time like a drop of impurity diffusing into a volume of pure water, the whole cognitive faculties got hijacked. More striking was the tact with which the occupation was carried out. Like an army headed by a master manipulator occupying a piece of land with pure tact, shedding not even a single drop of blood, so was physics taken away from me. It was traumatic ! As I woke up to my senses I realized that all resources have been looted, leaving me intellectually paupered. The pain conceived an inner warrior to ensure my ride back into the marvels of human intellect. Now it is up to me to breastfeed and nurture him.......

mashoodkk

CASTLE OF FEAR and FOOL'S PARADISE

Castle of fear and fool's paradise
Where the less worthy lot lies

Like a wandering musk dear
Of its own fragrance unaware

Knees tremble and their eyes waver
Upon conflict free roar of the tiger

mashoodkk

THE ART OF RELAXING

Ignorant are we about many things which we mis think we are adept in. One of them is relaxing or resting. The art of relaxing is the art of re energizing. Getting pissed off, yielding to a fit of frustration, accompanied by acts of self destruction, finally spiraling down to sleep is not to be mistaken as relaxation.

A sharper introspection bring to the fore another subtlety involved in poor habit of calming oneself down. We are afraid of resting. The insecurity and fear lurking beneath hisses silently, uninterrupted, ensuring that we never relax whole heartedly. Result is that we neither rest nor work, but are doomed to sleep with conflicts and dilemmas. Peace always remain as a distant dream though only heartbeats away.

mashoodkk

TESTING TIMES

The problem is real. Not a hint around on how to go about it. Doomed to no other option but to sit and glare into the vacuum. Patience hard to sustain, repeatedly ripples of peevishness is breaking forth. A dry strange feeling of helplessness and feebleness filling the empty cup of heart. Like a drought hit land yearning for rain exposing its cracks, so does the forehead with its shrinking. Unusually longer time seems like carefully preparing the ground for temptation like a traitor within. Mind tacitly turning credulous in the vain hope that self deception works at times. Melodies no longer possess the rhythm and music it had. Drooping eyes resorting to the spectacles of cynicism to keep the vision unblurred. Like a boat lost far within the sea stagnant in space and time, under scorching aridity, so does the mind stand in the desert of time.

In short we call it 'TESTING TIMES'.

S/he who could stand it resolute, detached, overcome with steady eyes, unyielding to temptations, unfettered by fear and despair, with little complaints and mournings, firmly convinced that however long the tunnel be there is going to be light at the end, make the time stand up and salute.

mashoodkk

ROAD TO PARADISE

In the middle of an ocean
Even time is frozen
Penetrating aridity
And Scorching humidity

Alone...What to do?

'Shield fear and despair
Kindle hope and cheer'

Whispered the heavenly wisdom
The proclamation of freedom

Though stagnant in time and space
At dawn, found myself in paradise.

mashoodkk

PROCRUSTUS - WE NOW CALL HIS ART 'POLITICS'........(An attempted translation)

This is an attempted translation of PROCRUSTUS, a poem penned by the philosopher poet of Malayalam - Vayalar Ramavarma.

Translation is not word by word. Emphasis was to capture the essence and transfer the message. Excuse the inadequacies due to translator's ineptness.


Deep within the darkness of Greece
Inside the thickness of lush greeneries
Lived Procrustus who spared no travelers

He would fawn everyone to his cave
Feed them with grace till they fade
Wait for their senses to be swayed

Then the ugly art raises its head
Asleep, all the wealth gets robbed
Awake, gets tied tight to a metallic bed
If the size exceeds the edge, they get cut
Else the hammers stretch to make the fit

Time traversed a young prince in that dreaded path
Steady eyes and sparkling sword vanquished the savage

Chariot of time rolled
Variants of Procrustus evolved
Like a plague robbing sanctity
From senate, varsity to spirituality

We now call their art - 'politics'


With the symbol of diligence and strength on his forehead
When will he reincarnate, Theseus - the belligerent
To cut those dark hands that stretch out in greed.

mashoodkk

mashoodkk123.blogspot.com

INCOMPETENT LOVER

Devoid of any destination
Unaware of its own aspirations
Eyes are searching
Mind is wandering

Trapped in the mist of 'somehow'
Dreaded by the precision of 'how'
Morbid solace in self deception.

mashoodkk

ABUL KALAM AZAD - A MAN DEFEATED BY PARTITION

Some people attains greater significance in spite of time trying to bury them in the remnants of history. At times complexity of the current problems drives us back to those visionaries, whose warnings once we ignored and visions we defeated. The spreading epidemic of fundamentalism and intolerance takes us to the footsteps of such a person who devoted his life fighting it with all his might in the Indian subcontinent - Abul Kalam Azad, independent India's first education minister and a champion of syncretism.

Nothing has cost our mother land greater than the Hindu - Muslim discord. Cunning minds within and without aggravated and exploited it for their selfish mileages and still continues to. Minds that cared for humanity warned and tried their level best to teach the masses about the hollowness of intolerance. Azad's concept of 'Wahdat -e- Din' or 'the Unity of Religions' was a step in the direction.

As per the concept every religion has two aspects - deen and shariah. Deen refers to the totality of the metaphysical doctrines which constitutes the core of a religion where as shariah comprises of the rituals and practices, which are culture specific. Azad maintains that deen, which is the essence, is same for all religions (like belief in god, good and evil, mercy to all etc). What differs is the shariah which varies not only with religion but also within religion with region and age.

Azad's call was essentially to focus on those fundamental factors (deen) which unites every being of all religions and to be tolerant with regard to the marginal factors (shariah). Such a call for harmonious coexistence was very significant then as colonial India was frequently rocked by communal violences.

Decades have passed, intolerance still exists. The uncertainities of modernisation are giving births to newer varieties and shades of fundamentalism. Somehow often we forget that what binds us together and fall prey to what divides us.

mashoodkk

AN ATTEMPTED TRANSLATION OF 'MAMPAZHAM' - A POEM THAT LEFT KERALA IN TEARS

The translation attempted here is not word by word.......emphasis has been to capture the essence and transfer the feeling.......the intrinsic difficulty imposed by Vailoppilli's poetic brilliance combined with the poesy of Malayalam , along with translator's ineptness might have resulted in a drastic fall in beauty.......

Apologies to those who could read the original work......Only excuse are those who never did experience those magical words, which touched and moved every single heart, young and old alike and still continues to......



As the maiden fruit plucked itself from the tender twig
Warm droplets sprung from the gloomy red eyes
of the lonely mother

Four months ago, when that tree in the yard flowered
for the first time
The little kid plucked it in innocence and ran into mother's lap

The expected hug didn't warm the tender heart
Instead sharpness of words wiped of his delight

"One who should wait and pick up the fruit when it falls
If is nipping it in the bud, should get good whips" scolded the mother

The flower like face grew pale and drooped
In a whimper, like a soliloquy, the soft voice whispered
"I will not pick up those fruits"

From the mind that could hardly speak
Came those words like a prophecy
Yes...soon did his playground change
From the dusty earth to lofty heavens

As the first fruit plucked itself from the tender twig
Warm droplets sprung from the gloomy red eyes
of the lonely mother

In the midst of the hue and cry of the kids from
the neighboring yard
She walked unto that fruit lying unwanted in the dust

Burying it at the feet of her parted soul
Her sobbing heart requested
"Even when you went away annoyed, slowly with a mischief
Ain't you used to come back hiding, after a while
One last time more my beloved.....come...
To take this from your mother's hands......"

In the gentle breeze that ensued
The maternal heart felt his featherly touch.

mashoodkk

WHAT IS IN THE WASTE BASKET MATTERS !

I learned it recently through observation. Particularly the subject was a friend of mine who lives next door to me. I cannot get out of my building without passing through his front door. That narrow corridor with waste baskets in a typical array, in front of each door on both sides, was common to most of the educational institutes I have been. One day I suddenly recalled a fragment of a statement made by some visitor to my school when I was in eleven or twelve - 'teaching in every breath'. I was surprised by the fact that it was a waste basket which triggered this recall. The chain of thoughts kept on developing. From the waste basket I started drawing inferences about the person. Slowly I realized that waste baskets tells a lot.......especially what is being thrown away, about the character of the person. Now whenever I am to throw something away, the schizophrenic coward within me gets scared and insecure. The dilemma of 'whether to throw it away or not' thusly got another dimension. As a child it was the fear of divine curse, in the teens some sort of pseudo societal concern while in the youth a sense of insecurity about perceived threats of scarcity and poverty. It took some time to realize that all these are not distinct but different manifestation of what we call 'fear'. The same fear which cripples the life of millions, which makes people opt for professions they don't like, marry people they don't really love and so on. In short what is in the waste basket matters a lot.

mashoodkk

TALL MAN AND THE GOD - STORY OF A CHILDHOOD ILLUSION

There was a tall man who used to walk through the road in front of my house every evening, close to twilight. In the yellow, diminishing light he looked very strange to me. Looking back, probably he was going to have his share of daily toddy after the long days work....... I am not sure. It can also be that he was going to fetch things from the grocery shop to feed his family,........... I don't know. He had curly hairs, oiled and well combed and his legs and hands were long and masculine. He never used to look at me but walked briskly over the untarred road in a silent and determined gait. Somehow he aroused a strangely mixed feelings of reverence, aversion and fear in me.

As the sun goes off my mother would start shouting repeatedly at me to take bath, have the evening snacks and sit for the daily studies. Before I start with my school books, under the insistence of my parents, I had to go go through the madrassa teachings. As a kid aged around 7, I hardly understood anything of it. My aunt who lived with us would explain to me with lively imageries about god, judgment day, angels, prophet etc. Mostly it was like watching a movie with alternating scenes of terror, order, mercy and care. Her understanding was of course very limited as she never bothered much about contemplating over the fineries. I was always curious to know more and at times she would invent her own stories to silence my pestering.

Whatever it be, the result was that it took me another ten years to realize that prophet Muhammed was a human being ! Till then for me prophets were a set of another fairy creature like angels. And that old man appeared often in my dreams as god ! I don't know where he is now. Even then I didn't knew his name or whereabouts. But I still can recall his face and gait clearly. For how can one forget one's first god....:)

mashoodkk

FUNDAMENTALISM, INDIA, YOUNG INDIANS AND THE WORLD.......... [Thoughts On Realsing the Indian Dream........]

Nothing has been haunting our mother land so consistently and persistently than communal disharmony between its citizens. It torn the nation apart. Thousands of human lives fell victim to the monstrosities of religious conflicts. When the British banked on it for political and economic mileages we could understand. But history bears evidence to innumerable instances when people from within exploited this vulnerability for power aspirations. And that exploitation is still continuing unfettered. Polarization ensures vote banks and here lies the key to the problem. Either the leaders and political parties should nurture the moral imagination to transcend parochialism or the citizens should develop the sensitivity to identify the pervert power mongers. To tie the hands of those who does not mind hoisting their flag of victory on the shattered pieces of flesh and blood of innocents is not easy. The insecurities and fears of the common man remains ever vulnerable to the calculated manipulative traps of the crooked. Yet in spite of all the unfortunate events our nation always bounced back to embrace the ideals of secularism and harmonious coexistence. Fundamentalists, like potential cancerous cells is lurking beneath the surface, always yearning to create division and propagate hate. Here comes the responsibility of the emerging generation of young Indians. Empowered with science and art we can bend the arc of history towards peace and prosperity.

Fundamentalism, mother of communalism, in its various shades is spreading like an epidemic all over the world. Every culture and religion is increasingly getting hijacked to spread hate and violence by psychotics with criminal instincts. From the home let us begin and to each and every corner of the world let we stretch our ever helping hands. Then alone will our nation shine when the darkness of the world gets disturbed by the light from the Indian land. We did it before....We can do it again.....The world needs it badly. Let us realise the Indian dream....Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavanthu.....

mashoodkk

THOUGHTS ON REALISING THE INDIAN DREAM....

Few hours from now the entire nation will wake up to yet another republic day celebrations. The tri-color flag will go up followed by the melody of our national anthem, triggering a chilling wave of patriotism in our nerves and veins. The ecstasy winds down then, and there will be a few instances when we will be thinking of the problems and future of the country. The purity of patriotism more than anything depends on how long those contemplative moments persists and what evolves out of it. Inspite of all the advances we have made we still have problems haunting us, stifling our progress. Thousands of our fellow citizens are still struck by poverty and ugly conditions of living. A multitude of vices thrives on it. The nightmare of violent extremism from within and without, of different shades, is haunting us.
There should arose within us a sense of responsibility to dedicate our efforts in solving these problems. With the lamp of education we have to destroy the darkness of illiteracy. With the light of literacy we have to fight poverty and poor conditions of living. The spirit of humanism and harmonious coexistence should be allowed to vipe out the pathologies of communalism and violent extremism of all shades.
The task is not easy. We will have to operate in the midst of our personal insecurities. But if we show the courage to step into the currents of history, there is no way our actions will go blank. Like the forgotten seeds germinating in an unexpected shower, so will our actions sprout. In the greenery that ensues we will be able to see a billion smiles.

FEELING CREATIVITY .......

When the shell of a pain crackles
By the assault of patience
A breeze chills the naked soul
And heart beats in the womb of creativity

The silent moments that ensues
The warmth of bliss that accompanies
Condense to droplets of reliable pleasures
On which humanity survived ....and on it evolves

Wound and set in search for order
We discovered art and science
In a peck of a stone heavenly wisdom
And in wild flowers fragrance of paradise

In the gnarled hairs of nature
And the knotty depths of mind
We traveled in darkness
Unchained inhibitions and unlocked troves

Salute to the savants of yesteryears
Crawling through the rocky terrains
They dug deep and sipped the marrow of life.

mashoodkk

PILGRIMAGE

I lived....tossed up and down .....
By the waves from the depth of my mind
Sometimes silent.....but mostly violent.....

I am fed up......of this slavery from within
In the net woven by my ancestors....
Swung by the wind of the times.

The inner yearning to script my destiny
Is pushing me ahead incessantly
Along the journey I am discovering happiness
Strangely simple......contrary to my phantasies.

Simplicity shuts the door to hell
And disillusioning makes life a pilgrimage
The door to paradise slowly opens
When moments enchants, nothing matters much.

mashoodkk