A Monologue!

I think I am still the camel turning into the lion, and the child is awaiting me.

Smile dear brother, smile. Not that innocent smile, the crooked smile. Because we all know! We are all part of that horde we call humanity. Don’t be reluctant! Let the putrid smell of humanity be inhaled. Let it stink. Let not our fake innocence deceive us anymore!

Why do you fret? Is it because I have seen the ugly truth? But didn't you know it all the while? Wasn't that our legacy all along?

Think about our civilisations, our cultures.
Don’t they make you proud anymore? Why? Is it because of the lies they were built upon – lies more evanescent than the clouds? Or are you thinking about what all have we not done to keep these lies sacred?

And yet we reek of honesty! Is that the reason for your apprehension?
Don’t worry about honesty, dear brother. It’s a pungent parable for the prosaic of lives.
Don’t go behind it, it blandishes the mind with rewards so resplendent that it has blinded many an eye.

Remember those wars; those thousands of wars, millions of killings. The rains have washed away the stains from the body and the ground but what of the heart? What could ever erode the sins of the heart?

Oh, the regret, the remorse, the guilt!

Now read me about your virtues. Why? You feel they are sardonic?

But isn't that inherently human? Aren't we the temporal always in search of the eternal? So why would our values be anything more?

Once, we found faith. We explored it. Weren't our lives entirely dependent on it for a while? But then we used it – each one of us used it for ourselves. And now we are against it. But by then we found reason. We are exploring it. But how much time, do you think, would it take for man to turn against reason?

Why have you burdened your soul with loads not your own?  Aren't you weary? Perhaps you are lost. Verily, it’s time for you to leave yourself so that you can seek yourself. Let the gospels and the facts be forgotten, but let not yourself be drifted into oblivion under their veils.

You are here in the river of time. Let the stinking smell be washed off.
There are fishes and parasites, don’t let them drag you and harm you, for they are envious of those who want to fly. Be above and beyond them for you struggle against yourself for yourself.

Now, won’t you go? It’s time for you to craft your horizon!

P.s.: Inspired from Friedrich Nietzsche's 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra' The first line is in reference to the book.

From A Crowded Street...

As I walk through the crowded streets, horns screeching behind me and people loitering around me, I wondered with disdain the terrible lack of purpose or identity in the vile lives of these people.

But somehow and suddenly I asked myself, who am I to condescend? What is my identity? What purpose do I fulfil?

Interesting and intriguing thought, eh? As the long road with its monotonous pattern of potholes crawls beneath me, my thoughts assumed a similar path, never reaching a turning or a junction. And abruptly it reminded me of a bookseller I had met a few days back who said that one’s life is for doing and doing is all that we do and nothing else matters.

Ok, so does that mean ‘doing’ is the purpose of life? Then what should I do? Since I don’t much encourage myself to think about future, I thought about today and I decided that I should write a poem today.

Ah! Then my purpose at this moment is to write a poem. What about my identity? Am I a poet?

Perhaps yes; perhaps no. I am in the process to begin thinking about writing a poem. But I have written some poems already, so does that make me a poet? Or am I a poet only when I am writing a poem? Perhaps I am a poet when I am enjoying myself while writing a poem and when I satisfy myself almost to the point of saturation by completing what I started.

Then I am a poet only for myself and my identity as a poet is only for that moment, isn’t it?
What am I after that? Just a mass of interlinked organic matter?
Oh! Come on! I crave to be more than that!

My thoughts don’t go any further. So, as of yet, I conclude that every moment that passes bestows on me a new identity which constitute to form a set of similar successive identities identified as ‘Sarath Warrier’ by my environment due to the similar kind of relationship that this self-conscious, egocentric mass of interlinked organic matter exercises with his surrounding environment.
    

Now that we have reached a conclusion about me, you might want to think about the ‘vile people’.

By the way, Who are YOU?