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