I just saw a damselfly,
At a busy traffic junction.
An extraordinary sight,
It felt like the world suddenly slowed down
It was there hovering through the auto rickshaw
Where was it going?
Where did it come from?
Was it lost?
I looked around
But no one seemed to notice
Was it there just for me to see
Was this a dream?
Was it telling me to stop?
To take a look around
Breathe in a little of its dreamyness
Did it think I was lost?
I held out my hand
To block its way, hoping it would settle down
Hoping it could put a rest to my enquires
But it moved on without stopping
Is it the dameselfly or am I the one who’s lost?
How could such a small being
Touch a person so much
Is it just me waiting for that touch?
I just saw a damselfly
A extraordinary sight
Something that only I could see
And it felt like being totally free
A child waits for customers..
You see them everywhere..
Waiting tables, sweeping the stairs,
They are our future, yet we hardly care!
Children sleeping on the streets..
Children working just so they can eat…
The world’s ought not to be so unfair…
They have a right to study..
They have a right to live a life without care…
Let children be children..
|*Notes from a prison
One moment you’re calmly sitting in your cubicle sipping sugar saturated tea and then something hits you. Your soul leaves your body, floats above your head and scorns at yourself, mocking at what has become of you. Showing off its freedom ….“You can never be as free as me!”
“You are locked up forever in those crisp green papers that are handed over every month; no; wrapped around your legs to prevent you from running and binding your hands to prevent you from setting yourself free. They are your master, they are your prison. All that you hope and wish to accomplish, all comes down to how stronger this prison will be. You are young; there is your whole life in front of you to enjoy what you’re doing but now you have to build this prison, to protect yourself from this world”.
What a strange prison this is? It is created to protect the prisoner from this world. I want to break through this prison. I want to burn it down.
Then you feel like tearing-up these masks, these fakes, trying to cover-up everything, trying to make everything look wonderful, when it’s not. Why can’t I say whatever that is in my mind? Why can’t the world accept me as I am? Is there no end to this make believe. When do I actually start living and stop faking it?
*Image created by overlapping two photographs made in twilight, Feb 2011
It’s not easy living a double life,
Within oneself it’s like a strife….
It’s hard to improve your situation
If you feel you lack the tools to do so.
It becomes easier to drag your body…
Being numb and moving with the crowd….
yet trying to find your way aimlessly.
So what if you don’t want to be a cliché?
You are either alone or your one of them..
Either ways you are a stranger in the crowd.
You get into a monotonous rhythm…
it is difficult to break, difficult to escape,
It keeps rolling you in its swell…
The tide takes you in,
spins you around, takes you for a ride,
until you realize that you haven’t moved an inch!
Trying to escape but making sure you don’t…
There is nothing much you can do..
You either rise above or drown in the swell!It is not easy living a double life…
- Unconscious Double Life (sammyg14.wordpress.com)