Rainbow

Standing
On the edge
Of sunshine
And rain.
I look heavenwards
Searching for her.
She looks down
Upon me
From her perch
High
In the clouds.
Wearing her robe
Seven colored
Each for a mood,
A mood of mine.

Why is she sad
Frowning at me,
Reflecting an emotion
I feel no more?
Her frown
Fills the skies
From cloud to cloud
From earth to heaven
From heaven to earth.

Is she sad
At a world
That is straight,
Or is she smiling
With the world
Upturned;
Topsy turvy,
Turvy topsy,
Right side up,
Wrong side down,
Frowning at me,
Smiling at heavens
For me?

~Aditya

Dedicated to a want

My hundredth post.

What is want?

When I desire something so much that the very thought of that thing causes pain, not because it is painful, but because I do not even want to think of a life without that one thing, I guess I have a want.


When every second of every minute of every day, all the thoughts lead back to that one thing, I guess that I have a want.

When every word I hear, brings back that one thing, I guess that I have a need.

When I know that I may not get that one thing, yet I soldier along, not caring for the obstacles, I guess that I have a want.

When I know, I have a want.
I know I want.

Comparison

Disclaimer: I have used “he” as a general term to refer to both men and women. Ideally, it should be either he/she or they. However, for some arcane reason, we use “he” while referring to humanity as a whole. I do not want that error to detract us from the main theme of the post.


A statement I have heard many times over, and one I have come to detest (the feeling is beyond hate) is “I do not want to compare, but have you seen what x or y or z is doing?”

What is it that makes people compare? Why is something others do so important in our lives? What makes them capable of being the standard against which we measure our achievements?

Our marks were always compared to those of our close friends. This comparison was along the lines of “How come he/she has scored so much and you have not?”

As we grew up and left marks behind, it was then the performance at the workplace. Our team leader at appraisals will tell us that we do not deserve the bonus because someone somewhere did something more than us.

As we get married and start a family, what we bring to the table in the family is again set off against that done by others. I am reminded of the famous (not so famous if you are not a Tamilian) song from Yethir Neechal (Swimming against the current). It is called Aduthathu Ambujatha Paathela. During the course of the song, a wife compares what her husband brings home, what she has to the take home of the neighbors.

The best part of death is that it only then when our actions are taken in the absolute sense. There is no comparison; just what we did and whether they were good or bad.

Now that I have laid out the constancy of comparison in our lives, I would like to question the rationale behind it.

Any person, and therefore his actions are based, hopefully, on some reason. (Please do not make this post another battleground over whether there is reason behind every action or not)

Since we are working with this assumption, two people we are going to compare have reasons for the way that they are. This is to say that they have a certain premises based on which they act and live. There is no chance that their two premises will be the same. This is because of the uniqueness of the person.

When the two people to be compared are viewed by us, we are doing so based on our own premises. This is to say that we look at them from a third party position and try to compare what they are.

To me, this is not a valid comparison. How can one, based on their perspectives compare two things that are based on different perspectives? It is possible to compare the perspectives. This is to say that I can compare the reasons that the persons are what they are. I cannot compare what they are.

You see yourself,
In your own mirror.
He sees himself,
In his.
I compare
You and him,
In my mirror?
I compare
Not you and him,
I compare
The mirror
You both see

Holding on

On the edge,
With fingertips,
I hang.
Abyss below,
A sky above,
Me in between,
I hang.
Strength ebbing,
Will failing,
Memories flooding,
Life lived,
I hang.

An illusion,
A dream,
A hope,
A fear,
I hold on.
Scared
To let go,
Scared
Not to,
I hold on.

On
The edge,
I am
Holding
On.

~Aditya

Urge

So many questions,
So many answers.
I hold the urge
Of saying anything.

Unanswered
They remain,
Answered by silence,
Mine.

Sanctity I take,
In silence, yours.
Words unsaid,
Heard nevertheless.


Thoughts too many,
Understanding too few,
I hold the urge
To understand.

~Aditya Rajaraman

Butterfly

Each flower,
A new destination
An old abode.

Temporary,
I flutter by,
I, a butterfly.

Flitting
From flower
To flower.

Never stagnant,
Never stopping,
Never happy.

Permanent
My flight,
I flutter, butterfly.

Searching,
For nectar,
Better fly, butterfly.

Aditya Rajaraman

Greener Pastures

I stay on the edge,
Looking out at pastures,
Some greener
Some not.

You are on an edge
Looking for pastures
Greener
Than the one, you are one.

We are on the same side,
Looking deeper
Deeper in our side
Searching.

A search,
Further inside
Deeper inside,
Longing for more, longing.

Aditya Rajaraman

Write

I sit,
To write.
I sit,
To create.

Thoughts
Once haphazard,
Settle
With me.

A strange sense,
Of peace
Falls
All around me.

Sight,
Insight.
View
Purview.

Words, fall,
Lines flow,
I sit,
They create.

~Aditya

June 28, 2007

Living Dead

Summer leaves and autumn comes,
Bringing cold to replace the warm.
The warmth of summer, so bright,
Shall fade into the chill of autumn.
The trees, once green splendid and bright,
Lose their own kind, their luster,
Drop the leaves that promised life
In the hope of growing them again.
One by one, they fall to the earth
To signal the one coming grey,
Leaving, once vibrant, trees bare,
Stripped of all its life, living dead.
Harboring at the heart, a single hope,
To see off a winter, so cold,
So as to be in a warm, kind summer.
Falling leaves bring a sign of new,
Coming around to replace the dying old.
The old, dying, with the only hope
To be replaced by someone new.

2nd July 2002

The Absent Friend

The person who’ll always there,
The one who’d never leave the side,
Shall give a shoulder to cry on,
And support during the worst fear.

A compassionate human, he is,
Ready to dry the stream of tears cried.
He’d be kind, even when kindness is not needed,
And he’d come every time, he was called in the mind.

The words he’d say shall soothe the mind,
The look in his eyes shall give peace.
The touch of his hand upon the cheek of yours,
Shall leave warmth flowing to the heart.

The gift he has got within him,
He shall always make you wear a smile.
Even if the whole world seemed to be gloomy,
He’d bring a cheer to a darkened heart.

And times when you feel you’ve reached
The limit to which you could ever tread,
He’d gently nudge you, to carry on,
Showing you there is no end to your limit.

Those moments when you feel all alone,
Walking along, with your face at your feet,
He’d be there, immediately, feeling the pain,
That he’d ease with words you need to hear.

When he was there, beside you, holding,
You up gently, when you couldn’t walk on,
You took him for granted, that he’d be forever,
That you all will stay forever this way.

But others had different thoughts for him,
Taking him away to a place far from here,
To show him how the life’s got to be lived,
And how to be all that you want to be.

That friend shall now be forever absent,
He is not there anymore, or will ever be,
That absent friend who was always near,
A light in the darkness of life.

Watching on you from high up above,
Guiding you when you go awry,
Giving you more love that you need,
Providing solace to a lonely heart at sea.

More than his presence is his absence,
That can give more than his presence can.
Times that moved apart, and so have the people,
But that had no effect on minds and heart united.

21st September 2002