Life, Musings, Misadventures, Epiphanies by Arun Raj

Will you still love me When I’m no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me When I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will I know that you will Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?  ~ Lana Del Ray, Soundtrack - The Great Gatsby ( Lyrics ) Think about someone you love, think about the precise moment you fell in love with them or realised how important they were to you. That moment of lucidity, when you knew there they are and nothing can take the moment away from you. We go through our lives rarely experiencing such moments of clarity & pure elation. A moment of childlike naivety & deeply ingrained sense of faith that things are just going to be perfect. A moment when judgement, the future and survival did not matter. Then you see children who live in a similar state of lucidity, a lways about constantly moving forward &  always in love - giving without reason, and getting attached without reason. And ...

Pretext: This poem is about the period of flux that our nation is experiencing today. A humble attempt at capturing the theatre of the yudhbhumi - a clean & strong India . This poem is dedicated to the indefatigable spirit of many of my friends, the volunteers of the Aam Aadmi Party & all my fellow Indians who seek a better India.  Sharpen your courage, strengthen your arms! There is a fire blazing – insatiable, unrelenting. Can you smell the fear - rats running amuck, snakes spewing venom! There is a throbbing in the air - an uprising is here. The ground beneath has broken. Pale in fear, There is a sullen horde, running for cover. Pale in fear, with pared strides – their quiver, our pride. When it started, a few men had the audacity - to question. Today we have the fist - to break bad. Time has come – now, we take back our nation! The water cannons, the guns, the lathis – could not stop An idea - whose time has come. An idea abo...

When was the last time something MAGICAL happened to you? ... The twinkling eyes of surprise, honest eagerness, the midnight oil, the elation of possession of something awaited or the presence of a loved one and all those little things that made everyday feel like a romance with life, are lost somewhere. These are for sure unromantic times! These are times when we fail to remember the last time we felt things were magical enough to make us feel reality as only a passing and that there is something greater and better. I wish I could be there on spring afternoons when eager children awaited the keeper to go off sight, to break into a protected mango orchard, armed with self-made catapults & stones. Mango trees with branches heavy of ripe fruit - a bright pleasant sight - struck free of their weight by the children who then devour the mangoes – a fresh yellow & green. My fervent heart fantasizes the times when love letters and stolen moments captured in poetry were treasured as m...

In a waiting stance, he waits and waits – For her and her’s only love struck stare. To be he wishes, but wishes deny, In her arms to lay and sleep - in peace! To be he wishes, but a forlorn strait Stands between them; reluctant it blows! “Oh! Let me flow through thy trying flows, To reach ashore, where my love awaits!” To the Strait he prays louder and louder, In her arms to lay and sleep - in peace! Her eyes strain beyond the forlorn strait, In failing Hope, but she would wait. A distant beacon dims and shines As her heart wails and wails. A storm broke, a year from now; Across the forlorn strait it spread. “Take Me around this storm, for I can no longer take This unending wait, oh forlorn Strait!” To the strait she hollers, louder and louder, As her heart, wails and wails. The strait spoke, with lightning strikes fray, “My passing by has caused your heart pain; My frivolous waves have crushed your boats; ...

The eyes of a dragon, in a breathe of fire. Anger alone his power and dare. Face up to him as his snare unveil, At the burst of which we may swallow a whale. This is life a dragon at heart, His intention none; but to make us strong at heart. He likes to slay us once in a while, With no mercy is his own style. Face away from him and be taken by his blow. Face up to him inside yourself to dare and grow. My words so thus are my expression of faith, In a life that is a lion's respite and heaven's insight. Arun Raj Written on 30/06/2005