The One on Strength & Perseverance


When people ask me:- “Are you strong?”

I point, that their question’s wrong,

I say:- “It’s not just really all the strength,

That helps survive you to this length.

But how, this length, you do perceive

Through all the friction you recieve.”
When people tell me:- “Wrong, you might be!”

I flail them, “That depends on how you see.”

They preach how strength and even power

Is grown with friendly people’s shower

Of their goodwill and blessings; “That’s thin”

I say and add, “This first comes from within…”
They scream and shout, “How dare you!?”

Of egoism, in this debate, they me do sue.

“A little scared they’re, ‘s what I think

To face their sins and cross that brink,

Confess of evil thoughts lurking their mind

And speak of how they fight ’em for mankind”
Each day, each night, each dusk, each dawn,

Pitch black heed grows our mind upon.

We strive, we fence, we burn, we fight,

With morals, ethics, brought up might

And frown when fellow strikes amiss

And finds oneself in dungeon bliss
He is not strong, not strong at all,

For him his friendly people took the fall

And now all they all do is just repent

On how ugly scary was his dissent,

And how they had in this no hand

And this was only his failure grand!
The lonely bastard’s hit hard by wall

How people standing by him tall

Now vanish, never to be seen,

While once lost mind, is never clean,

And there he sits in stone cold cell,

With all well-wishers, lest wish well.
He sees now, that this sin his- grave,

If only once he were that brave,

To shut them out, stay solo- soul,

And let his wicked thoughts to crawl

And face them straight with no advice

From friendly people- witless’ demise.
Then maybe, maybe he’d have seen

That strength he seeks is there within

 And darkness shunt away, aside,

That right came with no one beside.

For no one’s wicked born with head,

But it grows unto them instead.
But what is done, is done and stains,

And now he’s left to endure the pains

Of heavy chains and morbid thoughts,

With none, but hope of grimly sorts

That perseverance’s all what’s left

Now, lonesome burden for him to heft.
He might not live to tell his tale,

But this- a thing one must not fail,

To seek and find within that good

Which makes one strong or so it should

At least to judge oneself permit

Where people rise, where fall in pit.

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The Search


Something highly relatable for each of us at one point or the other in our life…

Maybe it is the search for the ultimate purpose or maybe it’s just all about a pizza…

One might never know…
What if whatever you just fail to find…

Is hiding right there in plain sight…

But you’re one clumsy kind of blind…

You just can’t find it in this light???
What if you search for that in place…

That’s just not right, for it to hide…

And it’s damn staring at your face…

Lost, have you sight- eyes open wide???
What if that thing has no disguise…

But you’re searching masquerade…

Still here- seeking, post it’s demise,

Shortsighted, dwelling in crusade???
What if all this effort blown to skies,

Mirage made into​ the fair of Vanity

Is moulding real all those lies

And dripping on our sanity?
What if you’re searching​ for the meaning

Yet can’t find a pivot point- full life- like..

And think of these as words demeaning…

Bedazzled, but still void in thy psych?

What if…


What if at the end of the line, if we say no to “Is there anything that you want for what you’ll be willing to go through the hell all over again?” and therein lies our salvation?

What if in process described lies the sole purpose, the educational aim of meditation?

The neighbours’ greed

turnt conquistador…

The conquistador’s wrath

against one’s valour…

The rebel’s sloth

of neighbour’s neighbour…

The early murder

was in labour…

The glutonny of the free

turnt sinners into hoarders…

The feudal lust

grew up those country borders…

The current pride

lies in the strength of orders…

What if…

What if he asks & you say- “Yes, more?”

& therein lies punishment?

What if…

​The sweet essence of moment…


This one is for the depressed souls, those who spend their nights in sorrow and absolute stupor of their situation. The psychological wave is used first to conform and accept the situation and then to show an alternate beauty of the nature, which keeps our side through thick and through thin.

If there’s a difficulty in understanding the poem straight away, read odd lines and get the vision of nature, while if you’ll read the even ones- you’ll get the condition of the person in depression.


Sandwich’d layers top down skies…

One’s fed up with their hissing lies…

Ascend the staircase to stargaze…

Burn one’s eyes on that face…

Boiling, mighty Earth’s insides…

Fuming are one’s darkened eyes…

Brush’d the breeze through the green…

Burnt down- memories one’s seen…

Deadly pitch plack crouching fear…

Doomly thoughts one does wear…

Pounc’d & snapp’d lope’s pain…

Lies one crampled ball of vain…

Smooth melodious crackling bark…

Clenched lies one’s hair stark dark…

Fat burstin’ cheeks, holed in rodent…

One’s cheek- crimson pressed in dent…

Sweet smelling joyous dancing grass…

Veined out, one fails to cry out brass…

Sniff’d the air that sworn predator…

Beating, tearing up- this darn obliterator…

Swift & cautious pawed by lost soul…

Cramped, stiff, yet sobbing whole…

Hoot missed  that disappearing tail…

Still, lies one doubting one’s tale…

Turn’d the Earth, stifled beauty- Utopia…

Thoughts railed with chaotic Dystopia…

Calm’d are the starnights, calm’d the moonsight…

Calm’d now lies one mindless, child of the light…

The ” Haunting” of humanity


“A plea”, right now, direct stream from my brain
Engineering seems void, progress seems void, I think only science can be considered to be an ultimate goal less aim…
All the scientists, running about in their labs, researching something, not knowing what, accidentally stumping on some poor poop of a theory and naming it- “Poop 1, Hamiltonian poop, Bose- Einstein poop, Crazy poop, Wacko poop, Taco poop, Subramaniam poop, Mendeleeff poop…” and on and on and on… Others- What do they do?- They take out the carefully preserved old poop of the others, poke it, smell it, look it up in the microscope, think of it, overthink of it and then finally they either die of void efforts or the same old poop they’ve been throwing around falls on their head and they invent “gravity”… Funny people all over the Earth, leading funny, pointless lives… Businessmen, what are they doing?- bartering, exchanging food, medication, shelter, clothing (old man’s animal skin or fur) in exchange of either butt swipe (credit/debit card) or some leaves which in their solo existence have no value…
Engineers, people taking pleasure in taking things up, twisting them, turning them, burning them, squeezing them, knowing that their efforts will go void next year, but still aiding man to become even more lazy, get into more void soul barter, or poop poking… Engineers- people, who take up the poop from scientists, bake it and present to all the common people as an applausible piece of cake, which gets stale in few minutes, if not seconds (years and months respectively, of course), because just about then some other engineer, arranged for some cholesterol dug out from the heart of the Earth (gold or some other metal) and converted it into even a better cake, soon to fall stale again… Man has emerged on Earth, with purpose, what is the purpose, nobody knows, none wants to think of it, so what they do?- They take up any random activity, like digging poop, baking cakes from it or delivering and bartering all that to the rest and spend their precious lives on it… What preciousness is in them when neither you, nor me can see a bigger scene above the- “become a mother, a father, continue the race along with either digging some new poop, baking some new poop or bartering the best one as soon as new one is baked…”
The sportsmen, the explorers, the models… all of them- chiselling their muscles, watching the world, grooming their fur- who’s got better stripes, which stripes will make you “different” this year… they at least live up to the name- “animals”, that we all are…
Look at those puny fools- the farmers, working their lives off- whole year, killing the Darvin’s “poop”, seeing and understanding that they’re being used, but being kind and simple enough to thank for that and continue their job, so that they don’t have to sit like us and being haunted by thoughts wandering about the palace on our head, be constantly knocking in the wall tagged “the meaning of existence”…
Loneliness of humanity has evolved to such an extent that it multiplied. All of us are schizophrenics, but when it’s a global syndrome, why calling it a disease? We have separated ourselves from the animals, we don’t care about them, don’t even know about them, though we live on the same planet… We sit under the sky throwing empty hopes in cans called rockets, waiting for the “species of equivalent or above intelligence” named bride will see, catch and accept our ring embossed with “hope” on it… “People come and go”- simple and one of the most common expressions depicting the pathetic condition of mankind stuck in the corner of self made egoism and its schizophrenia sprawling in such magnitude…
When he felt alone, his schizophrenia engineered him God… He told this to others, others like him, those poor creatures standing around him in the corner, banging their heads- together, yet separate in their pain…
Now, you can see how easily they bring that “cake” up whenever they’re in trouble or whenever the “people come and go”, the statement they’ve been using as their birthright, with no emotions, no regret, comes to action on them  and when it’s turn of the rest in the corner to use it…
We come alone, we go lonelier… Along the road we just make up all the emotions, all the actions, just to avoid the ultimate, all penetrating question- Why are we here?
We love somebody, when we try get rid of all the frustration of failing in answering that question… We blind ourselves with anger, sympathy, any of them, all of them, just not to look into the burning eyes of that question, directly…
Universe is so big- we comprise barely an atom in it, yet our fear of pursual of the answer to that question made our schizophrenia to convince us, that this and only this is the world, that’s it- these humans, not beasts are my brethren, and I come alone, and in pain I die even lonelier, because I’ve bartered my soul and borrowed some from others so as to entangle myself good enough, so that from behind of that web, I won’t be able to face and even see that same old question?- The one of few that haunt you before you die- “Why was I here? Did I perform well? What will be next?”…Live feed snapped…

Please, do not discriminate the mode of presentation, it’s written in style to go in hand with current generation…
The rest- discussions, critique, advises are welcome…

3000 Days for you


So here you are, sitting, staring at the screen, waiting for something new or interesting to spring out at you from this essay, article, philosophy- call this whatever you like…
I’ll call it my legacy, a teaching to all of you…
Let’s kill the grandeur of this introduction and confess, that none of all this is brand new…
But realization of the same is revolutionary…

The secret of a day:
How  much do an activity of sleeping take up time in your day?
6 hours?- maybe 10? Or maybe even more?
How long does it take for you to finish off all your daily activities of eating, grooming, transportation?
Lets say, for a common man all the above- 12 hours?  Maybe even more?
We work, we study, wo are doers– all of us, different as we are, of certain age- nobody sits idle… I can say, and with a strong base that we do for 8 hours… Some people, even more
Well, we all know that much of mathematics, thank god to 21st Century and the educational bill being passed in all constitutions, that we already spent more than 2/3rds of the day?
You feel tired reading upto here, so what you probably going to do?- Take your eyes off, look at the ads, change the tab, watch the dumb box, the cellphone or maybe some other useless activity, that you prefer to do, without even knowing, why do you do it?
Even if I’ll gift you 1/3rd of the day, part of which you already lost in all the previously described activities, you’ll be doing all the things I just mentioned you do when you get bored and nothing else…
Hobbies, very few people do have them, and those who do, actually fail to pursue them…
You feed your 1/3rd of the day to useless activities…
The above sentence, is a negative and attacking statement, judging you, your habits, your day…
But let me rephrase it, my deqr reader, all you’ve got is 1/3rd of the day and oh, how you want to use it for yourself…
Now, let’s tone things down and move on to the next part…

The fascination of the year:
Close your eyes, and try to remember a face, I bet first of the faces which you can so easily remember will be that of your mother or father…
Let’s go absolutely patriarchal on topic (no offense to feminists, I am one) and say- bread at your house comes from your father…
Look at him, all energetic and fierce and ready to work, because he has an aim for existence- family’s welfare…
Look, how he sweats all his efforts to keep you up and going…
Let’s try to get into his shoes and see it through his eyes…
‘I wake up in the morning, get ready as fast as I can have almost no breakfast and barely make it on time to the work… I try my best, competition in the atmosphere hints on smothering me all the time, crush me, my colleagues and even the work, at times, but, sometimes I, sometimes we all break our backs sweat and stain our shirts, but push all of it through… 8 hours, all done… not less than a gym workout, ah, don’t remind me, have to do that pretty soon… Long journey, I’m home hon… Atmosphere, here, now, home- ah, miss you all, love you all, try to spend some time in the evening, but alas, I’m tired, they’re tired, I’ll watch the idiot box and kick my shoes off…”
Weekends- he takes us all out and tries his best to spend time with us…
But, the big picture, the work- he works for 2/3rds of the year, all the left time, it’s family time- Saturdays, Sundays, a week long vacation, and a health leave converted into family time…
Of course, family comes first for him- that’s his aim, his hobby, his quality time, but again, it’s 1/3rd of the year…
Let me check my scientific calculator- well with all those days, roughly, hmm, it’s slightly above a century of days per year…
Oh, what magic is 1/3?
Leave all the magic behind, move on…

The Quintessence of Life:
Now, present, reality- all are the same to the roots…
Dusk of dinosaurs?- no, too slow, too clean, too big…
We live in the 21st century and how a modern will phrase it- quite amount of six figure age salary has the Earth earned since the dawn of the great reptiles…
Look around, you live in a dirty city, everything is deadly fast- even you, all things are small and getting even smaller… A Century old man?- How many of those you’ve possibly seen?
Average all of us out… we’ll be remembered for like what?- 60-70 years? Then dust will cover our tombstones, if we are lucky to have one…
Say we live 30000 days…
I’m just stepping into adulthood, so I’ll continue from my limited perception from now on, but I hope your adult “wiseness” will help you to extrapolate things further and understand what I’m saying…
I’m almost twenty, so around 7000 days are gone
I’m a student, so let’s say I’ll have this mark upto 10000 days maybe less…
The question- myth- ” What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?”
I should say, our evenings are the longest… Why?- They start when we are 50, but with all this- ‘fast’ ‘small’ and ‘not so clean’ believe me we all step into our three legged existence at the start of 40ies…
Oh, the energy… Adulthood- the period of maximal human efficiency… We get only about 20 years, or let’s even say more- 9000 days of full mental, productive, physical, emotional and sexual efficiency…
The later years prove to slowly flat line the above, eventually flat lining you…
Well, so?
We get 9000 days of fully efficient adult life, right?
I bet you forgot something…
Ah, yeah- the magic ratio- the 1/3!!!
So, my supercomputer suggests that we get, like, around 3000 days for ourselves?
How sad is that, all the laziness, all the idiot box watching, it all just splits the magic ratio to even smaller pieces?
The clock is ticking… And by the time you read this, few seconds from your 3000 days got substracted…
Catch them, hunt them down, capture them, don’t let them go useless…
As I said, I won’t tell nothing new, but the realization itself, of this fact is so important, that I believe, from now on, you’ll make every second count!

Want to get more days?
Stay fit- it will give you more days.
Live by the day.
Stay happy- it makes it worth it.
Don’t let depression crawl into the next day.
Trust humanity and live for it.
Do not be living. Believing is must.
If you work, choose your work to be something, you don’t consider to be work.
Do not do anything planned.
Now, be a rebel and extrapolate all the rest of advises on your own, because if not you, then believe me, I do know that you got what meant…
Just remember, all you have is 3000 days- that’s my gift to you…

(I invite all the criticism, queries, suggestions, guidance and will entertain them, just do comment- it’s my first blog- essay)

Тишина…


Тишина, золотая тишина
Это минута молчания в память погибшим…
Тишина, смешная тишина
Это воспоминания себя давно полюбившим…
Тишина, молчание, тишина
Это боевое затишье на поле сражений…
Тишина, смертельна тишина
Это когда о человеке нет соображений…
Тишина, любимая тишина
Ни души, нет машин и ушла вся городская зараза…
Тишина, пугающая тишина
Тебе страшно, ты один, не понятно…
Тишина, какая же ты тишина?
Когда шумно у тебя в сердце…