Master of one’s own Destiny

Master of one’s own Destiny

I couldn’t be happier than I am now. Living in the best of times. The best of communications. The best of travel. In the midst of making history. A different revolution. A different kind of connecting and loving. It’s the ’60s all over again, they say. And if so, a time to be remembered too. I couldn’t have wished it to be any other way. For all the angst… all the railing against times… railing against the world… life couldn’t have been better. The world couldn’t have been a better place. The time couldn’t have been a better one… at least from where and what I can see.

The world is a much different place… so different from all one has known. Didn’t even realise when the future crept up on us. And for all the doomsday prophecies of catastrophes come and yet to come… the Now is interesting indeed!

The best I can say is this – one is finally the Master of one’s own Destiny.

status quo

status quo

as the day broke
over an orange flaming sky
we sped away from the city
that gurgled around
with unpleasant sounds

we reached the high, windy plateaus
sighing in anticipation as
they promised to blow away
all the cobwebs collected
in the musty corners of our soul

we watched the distant horizon
where the land disowned the sky
mocking all things feeding off it
shrugging all away
as if she couldn’t care

and all our efforts to reach
that point of illusion
continued to howl
like the very same wind that
made promises it couldn’t keep

and as the day melted
into the dirty grey sky
we returned to the city
that belched around
punctuating the status quo.

Gaia conversations…

“Why did you let it happen?”, asked the non-commitant bystander.

“What?!”, she asked, a little nonplussed.

“This endless give, this endless take… that has all but ruined you, yours and him and his too”, the question rasped out, a little hurt, a lot accusing.

“Yes, a Game has its consequences, no?”, she answered, a little sadly.

“So…?”, the bystander insisted.

She sighed. Explanations, she guessed, were in order.

“You see… I knew them all… my creatures, big and small… I knew there were depths. I knew there were heights. I wanted to explore… I wanted to know…”, she said, wondering whether perhaps this time she had gone too far.

“… ?”

“ummm… “, she continued, “here I was spinning silently in space… doing my rounds round the Sun diligently… the Great Cycles were set to move endlessly… my creatures were happy… they had reached their limits… I was… bored. So… it had be Man, no?… a little ruthless, a little selfish… who would neither care enough for the Law, nor fear his own destruction… he could do what those fishes, birds, animals, and trees couldn’t… wouldn’t…”, she wondered whether she made any sense to him…

“do what?!”

“ummmm… turn me inside out…?”, she ventured a little uncertainly.

“… and your creatures, big and small”, the bystander whispered, appalled at what he thought was hell to pay.

“oh! don’t you worry… I won’t let them all die now will I?”, she tossed that aside, not an iota of doubt in her of her regenerative powers!

“… and he?”

“ah!”, she drew a longish breath. She stared far into the distance and pondered for endless moments… shrugged and said, “it is up to him… whether he really has the gumption and gall… to mutate and further evolve…”.

“and will he…?”, the bystander felt a strange panic running through him.

“hmmmm… “, she pondered… and smiled (a tad unkindly, he privately thought)… “let’s wait and watch…”

Two Paths…

Two paths I see
one obscure, one so clear
one shrouded in mystery
one filled with fear
What is it you want, Life?
You bring me Here
time and time again?
To fulfil vows that
I never made or meant?
Each step takes me
farther and farther away
from every dream
I ever dared and dreamt?
How is it that the farther I go
from all that I am meant to be
the closer I find myself to being Me?


She became what she was to become
rustling, rushing
capering in mischief
sometimes soft and warm
wrapping around the whole being
sometimes working up a storm
wild enough to shake the will.
combing through leaves and branches
setting off music and magic
whipping, bowing branches
bending mighty trees to her will
sometimes she played and tumbled
in the humble grass.
she hummed, she roared
she sang, she moaned
in joy of becoming herself.

No longer was she a river
banked and bounded
thirsting for futile Union
rushing into the embrace
of the mighty ocean
taking with her a little bit
of every land she crossed
never saying no to the umpteen
filth and follies of people
living on her shores
muddying her eddies and waves

now she flowed and frolicked
over river, oceans and mountains
unfettered, boundary-less
flowing up and down
with equal ease
for no other reason than to please
and fulfil herself
she stopped nowhere
nothing stopped her
uncontained, uncontainable
taking nothing, owning nothing
she belonged nowhere, to none
she became wild and free
She became…
… the Wind.

a Tigress story…

she was always restless
this Tigress of mine
pacing endlessly
bouncing off walls and bars
tighly locked within
all keys thrown away.

threatening to shake
the very foundations
of structures too weak
to withstand
her sublimal, primal,
repressed energies

befriend her. talk to her.
let her free.
they say.

but how can I?
there is no place for her
in my rational, compartmentalized
cubicled containers
of whats and hows
doneses and not-doneses
where tigresses need to exist
but only this way and that.

she needs acres of freedom
this Tigress mine…
to streak across
my soulscapes
flaming orange. fierce.
potent. proud.

i am faced with choices.
to live in this world
where We – my tigress and I
have no place Here
and there is no other There either.
if there was one,
I would take it.

so I have transformed her
a metaphorical Hobbes
to my caustic Calvin.
a caricature that
still seemingly exists…

her fiery oranges hues
now a manageable ochre
her claws little lumps of cotton-balls
her strange, powerful eyes
now mere shiny buttons
her toothless smile
threatens no one – not even me.

a ghost now – she only
haunts my dreams.