Reality,
I believe is what I see;
Yet I see not
Reality.
Shrouded,
Images of reality;
Stored reality is always
Shrouded.
“Stop once and look!
It’s you and me.”
A red rose has imperfection.
Strangely, imperfect perfection is rose.
2020, Deeya Nambiar
Tag: Philosophy
Let the dead rest in peace
Wish the voices sleep.
Those dead are far gone
And the living dies many a death.
My stomach churns
And thoughts towards utopia disgust;
Speculative spectators whiling time away,
Discussing
Watching
Pretending
Concern in the name of justice.
Consumers to anything
Where premium is in our mind;
Do we care to know our own self?
Do I know who I truly am?
Let the dead rest in peace.
*Disclaimer: My thoughts on Indian media and the way a certain topic of a dead person is being handled. I may be lucky to stay away from print and broadcast media but, the impact it has been having on human consciousness, awakened my slumbering conscience.
2020, Deeya Nambiar
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In our journey
Her thoughts never left her;
Caged her.
Bound her.
Life paused in past.
And I tried to wake her;
Warn her;
Remind her –
Life is in the present.
She looked at me;
Stared at me;
Reprimanded me.
“You have not lived my journey.”
Indeed I didn’t.
I sat down welcoming the silence.
“I am here now, in your present;
Life and blood, in our journey.
2020, Deeya Nambiar
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To tranquility
“Life is short.”
A statement, she repeated
Three times, expecting an emphasis.
My eyes were trained at the
Common black bird on maple tree
Quiet, unlike its usual chirpy self.
“To be lived and not short.
Here, now and the moment, I live.”
“Why disagree? We are one.” she murmured.
Another common black bird joined in
Together, in silence,
Seemed poised.
I paused my mind; to stillness and tranquility;
Silence embraced my heart and soul.
“In this life….”
2020, Deeya Nambiar
Variety is the Spice of Life 