Sunday, April 13, 2008

Dream On

“The child is grown, the dream is gone.”
-Pink Floyd (Comfortably Numb)

Life has lost its meaning
We are all actors out all alone
With ever changing masks
Forgetting the faces we were born with…

We are taught to be successful
We are taught to survive
We are taught to live
Yet no one teaches us to dream.

Thus we exist with an excuse of a life
We wait for the perpetual stillness
The thick fog of silence…our only armour
Our only cloth to protect our nakedness from prying eyes

Yet we forget to dream…we relinquish our lives
In search of a better one
We continue with the show…weary actors of an outdated play
Doing the same roles for so long that we do not remember our selves

We all have philosophies
We clutch on to them as if it’s a lifeboat in a raging flood
We do not want to be washed away into the infinite abyss of nothingness
No one wants to accept the truth…no one wants to die

So we continue…
An insomniac’s dream…
Justifying our existence with petty victories
Yet we look down on those who dream…


Apeksha said...

Beautiful have very subtly presented the harsh reality of life wrapped in the silky flow of your words...shows how we invariably refuse to look at ourselves through our own bland life can be when we're dreamless.....I love the last line "Yet we look down on those who dream..."....very real...very human....keep writing

Barsali says: Love Life..... said...

Very good..... I loved the first stanza.....It reminds me of something one of our profs said the other day.....the "me" that you see might be ghastly different fro mthe 'real' I.....
very well written.....

Arijita said...

I agree with Barsali.totally.and then,the way you write..there's something very honest and endearing about it.and nothingness ruleth!

Ritama Gupta said...

It's alienated yet on-your face.
I liked that.

Akansha@transforming dreams into smilin:) said...

An awesome poem...i seriously loved the facts tht uve put on display in the frm of human emotions....regardin the way we think...and the way life proceeds....dreams are born...and remain immortal....seriously its an inspiration to dream beyond the limits of something achievable...u rock bhaiya...awesome one...:)

Ayantika Banerjee said...

U have a mug full with pens
as a bouquet on a jar

with lots of pens,
a rainbow of colors...

With the blue pen u write
ocean, kindness, fantasy,

paradise, dream, adventure,
moon, melody, alley, wind'

In red u design
poppy, journey, stories,

romance, joy, pilgrimage,
faith, victory, memories and glory'

u try green for future,
perfume, freedom, passion,

smile, sea-gull, plenitude,
infant, button, wisdom, novelty'

How can u use
the yellow pen?

To built castles? Sand,
solitude, sun, daisies,

illusion, heat or candle light'
And how can u imagine

nostalgia, woman, interior,
destiny, life, a secret,

a kiss, love, or eternity?
In purple? Pink?

Silver? Gold?
Constancy, courage, will,

from man to man,
in a way that will remain

and could be accountable,
must be written in black ink,

black, yes, very clear and plain...
Some times u write

with a neutral gray pencil'
right away u change to

the happiest pen of ur jar,
and u write and write

with a permanent ink
the time will never delete

even after u
u have my preferred pen

according what u write:
the pen of light

visible in the dark night;
or the ancient one

that u gain with friendship;
but the very special and unique

uses invisible ink
that only will be read

eyes on my eyes
and in between lines and spaces'

Oh! Could u write
all the stories that u learn

from those pens of ur jar'
u will never forget

that close to them
u have one special picture'

. .. .. .. ... '
In: 'PAINT AND COLOUR ' an exercise'
swapno gulo jokhon shotti hote thake reality tokhon take marmare kore deye....hariye jaye contrast...hariye jaye depth....
keep wrytn.....

Asmita said...

yes, the ones who dare to dream and break free from the stereotype are down trodden it a criminal offence to dream...i wonder on about the hypocrisy of this world...