closet insomniac

you lie awake at night
pondering all the things that might change your life,
things beyond your control,
things you cannot alter.
you cannot fall asleep, try as you might,
and leave a problem unsolved.

you hear eerie sounds
altering your train of thought.
a door shuts softly,
a wooden floor creaks.
is it a guard on the grounds
or your ears trying to keep up with your imagination?

you see a creepy silhouette
standing in the doorway
moving with uncanny elegance.
suspended in mid-air is it something
hung on the door, maybe a jacket?
or an unearthly intruder trying to steal your thoughts?

sleeping peacefully next to you
perhaps dreaming of a parallel universe,
your ever-faithful soul mate
drifts into rapid eye movement.
as if it’s something totally new
you wonder if you will ever be as tranquil?

today ticks over to yesterday
you wish you could just lay back
and relish the serene moonlight.
yearning for elusive slumber that never comes.
still awake at the first rays of dawn you have to say
there is nothing more you want than those forty winks.

(not based on a true story)

- satyajit venkatraman
29th november 2010

what a pity! (2 sides to every story)

these poor little rich kids,
just “hanging” at the street corner.
flaunting their fancy watches and designer clothes.
they burn away their souls and waste their talents
and choose to live on their parents’ gifts.

these poor little misguided kids,
tagging along with their more fortunate “friends”
drooling over what they cannot afford
little do they know
they’d be better off on their own.

these poor little rich people,
earning their millions through "grand manoeuvres".
providing for a comfortable future,
only to find that the next generation
wipes it all away and has to start all over again.

these poor little "underprivileged" people,
scrambling to survive through their sweat and tears;
wishing for what their wealthy neighbours have,
they bend their backs and suppress their sorrows.
when they sleep at night, all they think about is tomorrow.

these poor little “third world” countries,
scurrying to please their prosperous counterparts;
vying for their attention and blessing.
if only they knew
they would do so much better if they didn’t care.

these poor little rich countries
rambling on about their "glorious past"
the state supports them all:
the unfortunate and needy to the lazy bourgeois
united, they avalanche their way to a shared gloom.

what a pity: if you think no one cares for their neighbour,
why does everyone care what everyone else thinks of them?
what a pity: if the only way up is round and around
why is everyone so busy “succeeding”?
what a pity: if the world is so full of gloom and worry
why does everyone smile at children playing in the park?

- satyajit venkatraman
15th october 2010

(derived from the realization that when i think commuters on the metro are grumpy and unsmiling, i forget that i am one of them too and someone is thinking the same about me!)

words

Words are the basis of languages
Words are the means through which we communicate
Words arranged in an stimulating fashion make poetry
Words combined with a pleasant tune become music

Words with affection become love
Words make us humans from mere beings
Words are the heart of relationships
Words are symbols of our intelligence

Words with malice become hate
Words can break a man
Words can make a man a monster
Words with an aim to hurt have no meaning

Words: the evolution from infancy to childhood
Words: a song that i hate
Words: the first song i learnt to play
Words: an enigma with the power to change the world

- satyajit venkatraman
june-october 2010

say nothing

when i was a child, minding my own life,
you made fun of my shape,
you said i was too fat and too meek,
that i couldn’t bend and touch my toes.
still i said nothing.
you took advantage of my docility
and enslaved me as “nature’s freak”,
i broke my back for you to cheat and steal and ravage.
still i said nothing.

when i was a boy, finding my way,
you made fun of my intelligence,
you called me a nerd and a geek,
made me resent my good grades
still i said nothing.
you made fun of my religion,
you said my gods were funny and weak,
questioned my motives, beliefs and philosophy.
still i said nothing.

when i was a young man, increasing in confidence,
you made fun of my lack of direction.
you said i was confused and my future was bleak,
that i would be lost in my own backyard.
still i said nothing.
you made fun of my culture and heritage,
you ignored the niche i was trying to eke,
dismissed me as a slave of my past.
still i said nothing.

now i’m a healthy adult,
you cant make fun of my success
for all the reasons you may seek.
your home falls apart around you.
still i say nothing.
your fortunes have been turned,
this is the end of your winning streak.
all alone, your old friends with troubles of their own.
still i say nothing.

in the future, i will rule the world
with all the others that you tormented.
together we will scale the peak
of the mountain you could never dream of climbing.
and i will still say nothing.
when you have failed on all fronts and lost all hope,
you will want to come by and take a peek
at our success and maybe even join us.
and i will still say nothing.

(as an allegory for India)

- satyajit venkatraman
july, 2010

illusions of reality

I. disillusion

used to see in colour
but now its only flashes of black and white.
tantalizing sensations
all that i touch burns my fingers.
used to hear you sing to me
but now its only sounds that hurt my ears.
no more sweet languages
only words that make no sense anymore.

built this fortress stone by stone
protection from the evil world.
one by one i left behind
everything that was dear to me.
but now its all gone,
even my decadent mind is not my own now.

II. despair

used to be the lucky one
but now i always draw the shortest straw.
mystifying choices
don’t know which is worse, isolation or remorse.
used to have a magic touch
but now all my spells are voodoo hexes.
my wishes have been granted
and my worst dreams have come true.

built this fortress stone by stone
protection from the evil world.
one by one i left behind
everything that was dear to me.
but now that i want to break free
i’m trapped by my own creation.


III. discovery

is my disillusion and despair real?
or a figment of my infidel mind?
was i trying to escape from my own illusions of reality?
all that colour, those tantalizing sensations;
is that my past, erased forever
or just my suppressed memories?
is everything i once loved waiting out there for me?
should i live in despair or die recovering my desire?

built this fortress stone by stone
and now i’ll break it down.
one by one i will bring together
everything i have left behind.
and now that i want to break free
will my own creation hold me back?

IV. desire

didn’t know how long it would take
or how hard it would be.
didn’t know where the road i had to take would lead
but i had to find my way out of the madness.
somewhere along the way, my illusion turned into an infinite void
and my insanity leaked into the endless ocean of delirium.
now i’m in a vast emptiness surrounded by broken stones
and a whole world of colour and undiscovered sensations.

built this fortress stone by stone
and now i’ll break it down.
one by one i will bring together
everything i have left behind.
and now that i want to break free
i know my own creation wont hold me back.


- satyajit venkatraman
29th june 2010

(inspired by “Black and White World” by Redemption)