Poetry

Who are you?

Who are you?
It is the most intriguing concern for me,
I quizzed other people,
While they laugh at it protecting the true self,
In the umbrella of norms,
But I often suspend a minute,
Thinking in my thoughts,
Inquiring who am I, before society molded me?
My train of thoughts interprets,
A stream of playfulness,
A mountain of innocence,
A colorful flower of tenderness,
A rainbow of love,
And the shining stars of understanding,
All sacrificed in this formulated machine world,
Of Anger, disgust, stress, and opinions,
Forging chaos for our self,
Where we are the ghosts and we are haunted,
In the society of hate,
But I breathe the art, the culture, the morality,
The thinker, the utopian, the reader,
The miserable, the wealthy,
The anecdote, the photographs,
The emotions, the psyche,
The kind, the compassionate,
The helper, the seeker,
I ask to believe in the community of compassion,
To indicate the reality,
An attempt to understand.

Who are you?

Open the Pandora box…..
To reveal the true flame, sometimes one needs to burn a little.

Architectural writing, Poetry

Poetic Cities : Understanding the psychological needs of humans resulting in joyful spaces

I always wonder “What represents the city?”

Like all buildings, Hospitals, High rises, Railway stations, Institutes.

OR 

Like Music, Art, Theater, Elements, Stories, Mysteries, Technology.

I believe cities are our anecdotes, identities, mysteries creating a chaotic art that can be analyzed in infinite ways. They shape us, creating a place for our sorrow and happiness, of our joy and discovery, of our culture and belief, of our community and experiencing self. I formerly had a dream about the perspective from my window narrating the tale with different compositions and reviving the essence of social engagement which has vanished in the 21st century.

“A view through my window”

Sitting in a bay window,

With the cup of tea,

Feeling the cool breeze and staring outside,

I saw vivid chequered glass windows,

With contrasting dark color huge textured walls,

Leading to a narrow pathway carved out of stone,

Engaging people to cross the paths,

Conversing, sharing joy and sadness,

In the presence of falling leaves,

Brought a smile on my face,

As I was interpreting stories through my window,

A community is full of explorers, thinkers, dreamers crossing the path of each other should be the core notion of the cities. I believe we can organize paths in a specific manner which will enrich the values of the society. India is a country known for its moralities, culture, and beliefs which should never be mistaken while designing cities. We restored our historical buildings and monuments to preserve our values and architectural manifestation interpreted in the building but I was always wondering if anyone will preserve our buildings or cities constructed in the 21st century? Our major obstacle is that we have executed mass production of buildings and ignored the living people in the society. But it is said that it is never late to restart and reconsider.

In the 21st century, it is a crucial time which would be a choice for an extreme idea considering the next generations to learn, creating our cities more uniquely poetic rather than analogous.

Poetry, Thinker

Nightmare

One day looking at the night sky,
I closed my eyes,
Resting on the fluffy mattress,
Sensing the cool wind,
My soul took me to the forest of illusion,
Driving in the shades of brown and lush,
Falling in the tones of darkness,
Of vulnerability,
Cheerful birds singing and lending paths,
Scenting the serenity in my heart,
Smelling the taste with all my senses,
Feeling harmony in an eternity,
Seizing the composition in the mind,
I felt free and alive.
But suddenly I was pushed into reality,
Community and cities full of people’s misery,
Some crying for loss,
Some killing for a better future,
Some suffering in silence,
Some intertwined in the chaos,
But we all are lost and made this kind of nightmare,
We have freedom but we are not free.

And I gradually open my eyes and screamed for a while,begging myself and still wondering when did I lose my forest of illusion into a hysterical reality?

I keep wondering why some of us spare silence and sacrifice our values and beliefs while this is the moment to speak one’s mind,we are creating illusions for a better future rather than making a better present. 

Poetry

Endlessness

Once upon a time,
In the 21st century,
As our lives are entangled in city glow,
With our mobile screens, laptops, and social brag,
With our vigorous lives, anxiety, and outrage.
Being an old soul heart,
I rescue from the tangible jungle to uncover a place,
An impression bound forever,
Full of darkness,
Deserted lands,
A quest with pizza and cigarettes,
A stillness of music,
Where breezes can be heard,
Where stars can be tickled,
Where silence can be understood,
Feeling fragile and empty,
I look at the sky,
Full of twinkling stars,
Dancing, crawling, jumping, running,
In the shadow of a silhouette,
In the blinking of glimmers,
Howling and whining,
To just pause and feel what you feel,
To lose yourself in the chaos of infinity,
Touching the moment,
With stardust,


To stare endlessness…

Poetry

Insight

I often wonder what would be the world without the art forms?

Darkness Journey,
Monotonous Patterns,
Miserable Play,
Mundane Games,
Monochrome Nature.

But if we crave,
Art is an expression of ourselves.

In Dancing,
We relinquish ourselves,
Dancing to dance.

In Music,
We get lost to be found,
Music to perceive stillness.

In Play,
We visualize our stories and perfect climax,
Play of tales in our dreams.

In Painting,
We observe the little fragments,
Painting our energy with shades.

In Crafts,
We discover to fail and attempt again,
Crafting our own mistakes.

In Books,
We explore all our forbidden thoughts and desires,
Books to escape reality.

But special art form is understanding one another,

In understanding,
We feel our purpose of existence,
Believing magic can be real.

Poetry

Strange story

What are we inhabiting: A System or A Business?

A path of evolution from assembling houses together forming cultures,
To attain a phase of creating fancy houses to exhibit.

A passionate society of thinkers,
To squeeze in a community of mass harvest of ideas.

A storyteller sharing joy and happiness with a smile,
To our pretty smile beneath our anxieties and depression.

A connection of being a part of the family or loved ones,
To dining alone with Netflix.

An exploration from creating and making mistakes,
To often live in fear, not living entirely.

An adventure to spend our weekends in the woods, stars, and mountains,
To consume our days in front of a computer screen.

A pursuit of understanding each other and appreciating,
To unfriend someone and dwell in despair.

A story of ethics developed through experiences,
To evolve in an attention seeker and relying on other’s belief.

It is remarkable to be a fraction of such an advanced technology but what about our emotional intelligence,”Our Dear Mind” which is regulated by our social community at the global status altering our personality and rendering us identical to everyone around?.

Poetry

Mystery

Do we examine our dreams?
Do we talk about our joy?
Do we discuss our curiosities?

Dream, Dream, and Dream,
Living like a Dreamer,
Visualizing the utopia,
Talking trees,
Walking leaves,
Nodding clouds,
Laughing lives.

Joy, Joy, and Joy,
Living like a cheerful person,
Dispersing in the utopia,
With darkness,
With imperfection,
With surprises,
With excitement.

Curious, Curious and Curious,
Living like a thinker,
Proposing our wonder in our utopia,
With observing the universe,
With helping around us,
With a caring individuality,
With a good heart.

Believe, Believe and Believe,
And hope like an ambition,
One fine day,
Our world will evolve with people who are dreamer,happy,and curious.