Howsover many times may life remind
Us of the illusion of the ability to control,
And yet the mind tries and retries
To make something or someone other
In that one single way to act or behave
As if it truly believes it to be true...
It twists and turns the same material,
Churning out realities of ourselves,
Tailored towards that one sole goal
Of "I'm right and everyone's else a fool",
To please the ego lurking in the shadow,
As if a never ending TV show...
Then life, from whom no one's hidden,
Who is cleverer than the cleverest mind,
Brings situations to test man's mettle,
That falters the false pride, and
Makeups that can't stand the time,
As if falling like a pack of cards...
The changing seasons of in and out,
The creaking bones of body and mind,
And over the boiling mix of fool's paradise,
To realise it all comes from, and goes back to the same Source,
Not a property to own, or a life to control,
But just to be, as if like a leaf on a tree...
--nayan
Thursday, 28 Nov 2024
3:40pm, Patna
