Awareness | Intention | Purpose

You are under surveillance
you so are being watched.
They are waiting for you
to slip up even if that be
for a very brief moment. 
So they could point at you
so they could question you
so they could have a laugh 
at your entire belief system, 
tell you that you’re hypocrite. 
So, should you be worried?
Well, not quite as much as
you think you need to be. 
Ask yourself three questions
every passing day, instead.
What am I doing? (Awareness) 
How am I doing it? (Intention)
Why am I doing it? (Purpose)

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If I died tomorrow

If I died tomorrow, what would I be most remembered for?
Believe me, that is a question that I try to answer every day
thinking about the delicate fragility that tomorrow entails,
what if’s, could be’s—enshroud my thoughts occasionally,
not reminiscing the past but picturing my very last breath.

I may be remembered for the words that I mostly conveyed,
I may be remembered for my unrelenting state of calmness,
I may be remembered for efforts I made to lead myself well,
I may be remembered for the instances and people I escaped,
or, I may be forgotten from the next day of my non-existence.

It does not scare me as such. Yes! the thought of death I mean.
Nor am I scared of the uncertainty of the moments passing by,
what scares me is whether or not I’m living true to myself,
what scares me is whether or not I’m living true to my death,
the simple and single answer to which in most part is ‘yes’.

Holding Your Hand

It’s the most beautiful form of entanglement, 
which I’m not at all afraid to be involved in. 
It’s the most pristine touch I’ve experienced, 
that gently brings me to life in lows and highs. 
It’s the happiest realization that strikes me:
to be close to the one who matters the most.

Polarity

Lie comes in different colors, shapes, and sizes,
more often than not, the sweetest of the sweet
which we can only crave for and regret later on
because the sweetness has a kind of tipsy toxin.

Truth dresses blandly, sometimes it’s even naked
subjecting us to the intimidating notions of life
which we know we need to accept with courage
yet we anxiously search for that toxic escape.

The Inevitable

Struggle for character,
Struggle for consistency.

Struggle for meaning,
Struggle for perseverance.

Struggle for freedom,
Struggle for growth.

Struggle for calmness,
Struggle for sortedness.

Struggle for values,
Struggle for beliefs.

Struggle for identity,
Struggle for differentiation.

Struggle for life,
Struggle for death.

Fragility

Life’s fragile.
More fragile than
we can ever imagine.
To feel the assurance of
that ever-flowing breath now
and not feel it the next moment.
Wonder what can be so unpredictable,
so startling, so gripping, so unimaginable.
Yet what can be done is just going along with it,
openly receiving what each day has to give,
and adding value with each step we take.
Just being: being here and now as time
unfolds its magic and uncertainties.
Just cherishing our existence even
on days we don’t want to at all.
Just cherishing this journey
because life’s fragile.

In that flicker

There was a distant flickering,
not piercing enough but visible.
I wondered what that illumination
could be, stepped forward to see.
With each step, my vision started
getting more and more blurry.
Upon the closest encounter with
the source, I was taken aback.
For all I could see is the forgotten
parts of me, whirling together in it.

Examinations

She is a slowly healing star
despite the tragedy of errors
that she had to live through.

She is gradually getting acquainted
with the fast pace of everyday life
after a long, lone, pinching halt.

She is learning how to walk faster
but the wound still exists, the pain
still reminds her of the looming risk.

She is trying to regain her best self
but she knows there’s a long way to go
and she needs to take every step slowly.

She’s braving the passing moments
despite the examining looks she needs to embrace;
expectations, indifference, slice her well-being.

Yet, I know, she won’t ever reciprocate
the behavior that she never really deserved
she won’t ever resent the unwanted examinations.

To Today and Tomorrow

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Some instances can be haunting.
Some nights can be daunting.
Some moments can be taunting.
Yet tomorrow will be a redemptive new day.
They will listen to what you have to say.
As not what it seems but what you convey.

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