The Song of the Raging Sea

Only the tumult of a raging sea,
rocking our boats to places it needn’t be,
who dares whisper a few good words and conciliate?
For mighty is her resolve, and feeble her invaders.

I

Beating against our aged wooden hulls,
her stories she forces us listen,
of conquerors who’ve tried quelling her ire
and soldiers who wished not to partake.
Songs of past surface under the raging storm,
as she cries louder into the setting sun,
and our vessels are but dumb dots,
lost in a mighty gale, drifting away with no desire.
The heavens gather, to listen to her fables,
that which needs be told to every sailor passing.
She sings, in a majestic low soprano,
that the men have made merry in her midst,
carrying goods of war and crime,
that her song is the only redemption, she roars
in a frightening contralto.

II

The old few those who’ve listened with care,
warned us of her ire before we sailed away.
Like seasons weathering old rocks to dust, their lore,
distant and washed away,
little did the forgotten wisdom give us hand,
our wet faces, now bereft of any realization,
piecing the parts only to fail.
In the frantic cadence of her waves,
in her wild cosmic dance,
in the fearful tremors of her ballad,
we solemnly pray for the tale to twist our way,
to the young and true, she’ll say,
listen again, listen again!
That your understanding of this divine tale,
of man and his destiny shall see the light of day.

III

In a desperate bid for a final confluence,
we merged a raft from parts of the now wrecked hull.
She is the canvas for our dreams,
in her we float free like in our mothers’ wombs,
her story too ambitious to comprehend, we let go,
and like a violin soundtrack to God’s elegy,
her rage turns to deep sorrow.
The last voice of this universe,
like the distant hymns of a hindu sage,
she sings the song of the raging sea.

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Indian Glory

The pride of being a denizen
Of the country so vast and magical
And glory as its epithet,
Is ignited.

Beyond the realms of mankind
A god in whom we trust
Laughs, for he knows
He has flawed in his greatest creation

A flaw that we must
Introspect within us
And when we realize the truth
Our faith decides destiny.

And in this land of mystery
A land of immense power and magic
We battle,
A battle for our survival

A flaw that coerced joy
The battle deluded the mind
and the fate that followed
Is decided by him and only him.

Diversity is a humble word
To express the magnitude of man
Enduring the lifestyle it has to offer
Bearing, enjoying, relishing.

In this cycle of emotion
There is darkness.
A profane enemy lurking,
Waiting for his gamble.

The flaw, a twisted mind
And of no respect to human values
A pervert aroused.
For he lurks in us, beware.

And we introspect, this very moment
To curb the deviant, and a desperate plea
O lord! Help us defy the flaw.
And fight the virus which has the potential.

And thus does faith determine
The true road to destiny.
But the shield that still binds us
Is that we are still denizens of this land.

And when we fight, we unite
Against the profane and the pervert.
The enemy which has lured us into battle.
And thus we are, true to our kind.

Faith, unity, and Mother Nature
The elements intertwined,
Gives us a light, the answer
To man’s supplication.