...its dark outside

it’s dark outside; sharp as needles,
the cold invades layers of warm clothes.
soft drops of icy rain and snow fall
gently on sleeping roofs.

footsteps on the pavement
tread gently, exploring and unsure.
as the night’s snow turns to ice
more falls like silk from above.

cold alleys pass by
mesmerizing reflections peek out.
strange lights sparkle at every corner
many colours – red, orange and green.

the occasional sound of tyres on wet surface
tread gently, exploring and unsure.
flashing red once in a while
exploring the line between speed and safety.

the Tower is dim and the parks empty
famous landmarks lie abandoned and vacant.
no tickets on sale now
no people milling around.

now the footsteps are surer
and the stride confident.
fresh, cool breeze in the air.
making good time, but some way to go.

slowly but surely light asserts itself,
rays of sunlight through the dense shroud of clouds.
soon the houses will be empty
and people everywhere.

he must get back to the start
and begin the transformation to the routine.
solitude and peace will soon disappear
and he will blend into the millions.

for a while there was a thrill (or was it a fear?)
of being alone (but in a world of marvels).
no one to share (and no one to please)
but it was just a morning routine.

December 22, 2009
about my morning jog

dream

there was this guy, just a simple fellow,
enough above and enough below
opened his eyes one morning
and said to himself, while stretching and yawning
“how long have i been asleep?
and are those hours mine to keep?”

he had taken his life where the winds blew
and didn’t realize how fast time flew.
he had not read his life’s text
twenty one day and fifty the next.
“thirty years gone by as one,
how did i miss all the fun?”

as far as he could remember
he was full of life, be it March, July or December.
off to work he would go
eager to give his all and grow.
“you’re a great guy they said,
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”

day after year of his life went by
he worked, he worked, all he would do was try.
he did what he could and always thought
that he was not the best but better than a lot.
“did that make sense at all?
or was it just to soften the fall?”

stuck in a rut of a life so cluttered
he never rose above to see what really mattered.
it was his strength and also his weakness
that he didn’t see the danger, the depth and the darkness.
“was it so since the beginning?
or, all the while, become more threatening?”

into his life people came and from it people went
he never stopped to ask what it meant.
they know what they want just like i do
part of the plan, like the one for himself he drew.
“is that how i got to where I am today?
weary at night and tired by day.”

all that happens around him he doesn’t understand
strange people with strange habits in a strange land.
a small fish in a big ocean he has become
and he can only hear the constant hum.
“it’s the water, you know
just like me, going where the pipes want it to go.”

it really was only in his mind
the hum of a toy, the kind you could wind.
running along, swift at first but grinding to a halt
just running out of steam but without a fault.
“i am that wind-up toy,
old, plastic, and of no use even to the little boy.”

how long had he been asleep?
and were all those hours his to keep?
twenty, strong and all his life before
he realizes as the alarm drowns his snore.
“although very real it did seem
it was all just a dream!”

now feeling refreshed, he awakes
as above the horizon the sun breaks.
off to work he went forgetting
all about the dream he had and, at the end of the day expecting,
“you’re a great guy”, they said
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”

running the wrong way

at two, you learn to run,
and it seems like fun.
when you get going you don’t really know
if you go where you want to go.

at five, you simply run.
when school is done
and you go out to play
all you want to do is let your legs flay.

at fifteen, you run after pleasure
and nothing can measure
up to the joy of discovering
a new thing that’s exciting.

at twenty-five, you run for fun
because you know there is none
that can get you despondent
in your pursuit of merriment.

at thirty-five, you run against time.
every clock that can chime
reminds you that you have to feed
several souls full of greed.

at forty-five, you run to get away
every time the sun greets the day
all you want is to escape
from all the red tape.

at fifty-five, you run to save
so you have to be really brave
to attain the grace
that you promised yourself in the first place.

at sixty-five, you run only if you have to
but you really don’t want to
because you’re tired of the dreary
race to destiny.

at seventy-five, you realize that you’ve been
(and that you really should have seen
much earlier in the day)
that you were running the wrong way.


sv: 21st July 2009

for some reason the titular phrase has been stuck in my head for days, so I thought i’d start writing again with this in mind as the theme.

Capitalism

browsing through my archives, i found this kick-ass piece from someone and couldn't help wondering how relevant it is today (not just to the world in general but also me personally):


TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell the herd and retire on the income.

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
You are surprised when the cow drops dead.

A FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create irritating cow cartoon images called Cowkimon and market them world-wide at a fantastic profit.

A GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You reengineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

AN ENGLISH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Both are mad.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows, but you don't know where they are.
You break for lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 12 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION
You have 5000 cows, none of which belong to you.
You charge others for storing them.

A CHINESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.

ENRON CAPITALISM
You have two cows.You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.

The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Sell one cow to buy a new President of the United States, leaving you with nine cows.

No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public buys your bull.

Addendum from "le kiddo"

INDIAN CORPORATION
Put one cow in the temple, color n coconut it up!!! The other is in the office, training to be an American cow...
But in vain - 'cos then we get a Satyam cow

i am currently crafting Belgian, Spanish and Portuguese versions. any volunteers for an Indian version?

The Time Draws Near…

When you are lonely and the time draws near,
Think of the things severed by the thought.
When you are awake and the sky is clear,
Can you help but see the stars?
And create your own dreams and fear
That you may in time be up close
And heal the touch that brings you here?
Close your eyes and you will see
The bond with them that you cannot severe.

When you see the one looking down on you,
You know, you must, that the time draws near.
When you wait and you wait,
But she never seems to appear.
Chasing the shadows, chasing the dreams,
That you never thought of the one dear.
"And when your time has come,
You will look back and spare a tear."
For the one who knows and one who sees
Will always care.

satyajit venkatraman

Sometime in 1998