खाली बोतल…

उस शाम में भी था नशा,
उस जाम में भी था नशा,

संगीत में सब लीन थे,
था हर कोई झूम रहा,

था तो नशे में मैं भी,
पर मेरी शराब कुछ और थी,

जिस लड़की को सालों से देख रहा था,
आज उसमे बात ही कुछ और थी,

आया था मौका, की नशे में मैं भी गुम हो जाऊं,
नाचते-गाते, हस्ते-खेलते, कहीं बीच में अपने दिल की बात फर्माऊँ,

पर विधि का विधान देखो,

की था मैं जिसकी धुन में नाच रहा,
उसकी नज़रें कहीं और थी,

रह गया था दिल एक और रात प्यासा,
और बदकिस्मती से अबतक, इसकी आदत सी हो चुकी थी…

 खाली बोतल...

The Debate that can’t be settled

It is better to debate a question without settling it than to settle it without debate.

It’s a quote I came across recently, and I have been obsessed by it since. It is then when I considered the following debate in a different light, the debate being on the existence of God itself.

One of the most important requirements of a good debate is the appreciation of the power of logic by both the sides of the house. In its absence, the debate is just reduced to two parties just shouting out at each other without regards to the oppositions ideas.

And that’s the exact reason, why such a debate wont work.

Why? Because if side opposition(the Believers), do appreciate the power of logic, they wouldn’t on the first hand would ever be theists, because a theist has no arguments to back his belief, just faith, a faith that has no logic whatsoever, and this fact is conceded by both the parties.

Thus there is no way this debate can ever be settled, though yes, it may die out one day, either if all the people of the world recognize God, or if all people take the logical path.

If dear reader does contradict me on some issues, please mention it in your comments.

A Puppet Show

To control the universe,

That was my dream.

So I rose above all else,

At least that’s what it seemed.

I saw the world as a puppet show,

Where I was the grand puppeteer.

Tried to play God,

Pulled strings everywhere.

I never knew when it happened,

When the master became the slave,

When the strings I was pulling,

Morphed into chains.

It all went out of control,

The chains were clenching me,

The puppeteer became the puppet,

In the hands of God almighty.

An untameable wild horse he is,

And not some dumb deity,

He is the blessing called free will,

That and that alone is his true identity.

Captain of a Sinking Ship

The gleaming deck, the chirping birds,

Ah… They so seem to mock me,

The things I promised and all my dreams,

to think that all’s a fallacy,

My family is proudly on-board,

oblivious to the fate that awaits them,

My friends are consoling me,

Unaware that I am just a broken stem.

I want to curse those, who have sailed ahead,

who show sympathetic gestures, but don’t really give a heck,

just one thing keeps me from saying any ill of them,

that my beloved is safe and sound, as long as she is with one of them.

The sirens are wailing, Cries of ‘Abandon Ship’ still louder,

And there I was weeks back, thinking I couldn’t be any prouder.

Is it a sense of duty or is it the oozing shame?

What is it, that’s still allowing me to get a grip?

Am I going to heaven or am I going to hell?

Is there any respite, for me, the captain of a sinking ship?