No matter what you do,
The world moves on at its pace,
Break your hand or tear your heart,
Perish your body or sell the soul,
The world moves on the way it wants.
Split the atom or synthesize a gene,
Discover the cell or the basis of life,
Travel the speed of sound,
or its multiples,
The world moves on as it will,
with the same ratio of
Joy and sorrow,
The same degree, scope, quantity and
For a stone, spear, arrow or mace,
sword, dagger, knife or gun,
grenade, bomb or missile,
spills the same red blood,
and takes the same innocent life,
As does the atom.
a thousand spears were raised
to kill a thousand lives.
a nuclear bomb is enough
But the thoughts behind it
and the intentions
are the same.
No matter what you do it’s all the same.
Cure a deadly disease
and a deadlier arrives in its place.
Kill the killer
and you’re branded one.
Topple the top
and you’ll be toppled in time.
Rule the country or the world.
it’s all the same,
no matter what you do.
Spend a lifetime in a penance.
God won’t come to Earth.
Create a religion of love today,
tomorrow it’ll be one of hate.
A saviour will come and save the world.
And soon it’ll be in need of saving again.
(This poem appeared in The Asian Age on March 17, 1996)
The traditional belief of reincarnation
A life once, twice, thrice and many more times
A life full of suffering, anguish, despair and agony
Dreams and nightmares, hopes
The growth of a life, drop by drop
And effort of years and of generations
Worldly success, shorlived joy
Spiritual abyss, lingering sadness…
A lone life observing mankind
Womankind squashed, helplessness butchered
A law of the might
God sold, a religion of hatred
And in the end, its back to dust
The futility of it all
The destruction of all things created
Surely the soul is too wise
to change more than one suffering body
© Sunil Rajguru
Mankind is a book
and every letter
represents a living soul
The book is complete only if
all the letters are present
and in their proper order
But the book as whole
is never preserved
Individual letters aren’t valued
words and paras perish
Sometimes whole chapters are wiped out
rendering the text invalid
Pages don’t form a sequence
and are in conflict
and torn out
The protective cover
detached itself ages back
and the snow white pages
exposed to the dirt and smoke
of the atmosphere
are getting dirtier and dirtier
The gutter spaces have blackened
Lines have ceased to make sense
It is no wonder that
fails to read the book of man
© Sunil Rajguru