From The Bard's Pen

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me—
nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

- Hamlet

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Creating God

Creating Gods
I created a God for myself
When I lost...
And when I found love...
I conversed with Him
Shared moments
And I saw the cracks in my faith
Long before I admitted it to Him...

On the pavements, there lay
Innumerable mother figures
Brought to life by rough, illiterate hands
Man creating God
And then worshiping his own creation
Folding the same hands that had moulded
A Deity.

I understood faith that day.

Cold winter nights
A mother willingly feeding her
Miniscule share to her little one
Adding hunger to her bag of plights
With a god-like benign smile on her face

I understood a mother that day.

A rose that I had kept in a diary,
Hidden or perhaps forgotten
By the One who had given it
In a moment of craziness,
The fading petals crumbling
At the slightest touch
Just like the pieces of a heart

I understood pain that day.

I prayed for your end
Knowing I had no other choice
I chose freedom
For both you and me
I know you wouldn’t have done that
I know you forgive me

I understood guilt that day.

I grew out of fairy tales
Stopped believing in ‘happily ever-afters’
A cynic, some called me
I don’t care any more
My rare smiles grow even more brittle
And my laughter is silent
But my heart remains unbroken
I smile at the world and close the door
I’m alone. I’ve learnt
The art of creating




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