Got a Gun? Shoot! Shoot!


Been a long time since these fingers typed out something that is not poetry, texts, status updates and project work. Feels good to have my mug of coffee next to me again. Feels good to sit in an air conditioned room and type randomly to my heart's content. Feels good to have Lounge Piranha's first album in my ears. And Pink Floyd. These bands give me wings.

"Sometimes the sky falls down on me
Sometimes, the wind, it sets me free
Sometimes I feel the urgency
Sometimes I stare in this belief..
Wish I had a gun."
(Gun Song - Lounge Piranha)

The fixation with the gun and the sheer force of that little bullet coming out on pressing the trigger is understandable. We humans bow to the greater powers and are instantly intrigued by the unknown. The lesser forces? Those are to be tamed, defeated, crushed beneath the sole or simply dubbed irrelevant. That's the way we are. That's the way we have been brought up.

A gun has the power to wipe the smile off our lips, it has the power to send lead crashing through our strongest bones and hallelujah! We worship this brute force. We hold it in awe. We revere it. We are scared of it. Because it showcases power, of one mortal over others.

The man who holds the gun, rules the proceedings.
Why?
Because he can kill.
We are scared. Fear for our lives is resident.
What is our life made of?
That's a different matter altogether!

If we have a gun, we are supposed to shoot it.
A gun is more of an idea. If we believe that the gun we are holding is enough to scare people, we use it to scare people. If we consider it too inadequate a weapon, the gun we are holding is chucked away and a dash for safety is witnessed. Or even perhaps feigned ignorance.

If we have a gun, we are supposed to shoot it.
Hold a gun in your hand. You might feel the potential energy filled up in the spring under that metal. The coiled up powerful spring, ready to uncoil at the slightest command, willing to unleash (or rather- push) a bullet. Anticlimax? Kinda. I'll get back to it later. So, when one holds the gun, one might understand the sleeping power it holds. Just like a human mind (that's aware) which holds a large amount of potential energy. When we are not able to do what our mind wills, we can see a substitute in a gun. Only in the sense that it's is ever willing to do what it's built to do. Our mind often cannot be mastered by us, unlike the gun. So we use the gun. We 'use' it. Like a powerful man uses his subordinates to do his work. Sadly, the gun set to work usually kills.

If we have a gun, we are supposed to shoot it.
Pulling the trigger releases the bullet. That little lump of metal is useless without the speed. Speed of a bullet is lethal. It's shape, you say? That only makes its speed better. Without its speed, a bullet is harmless. Anticlimax. So a 'speeding bullet' is something, a 'bullet' is not. What is speed but the delivery of the bullet. If you have an idea, all that matters is how you deliver it to people. If you have a speech to make, all that matters is how you deliver it. If you have food to serve, all that matters is how you deliver (serve) it.

If we have a gun, we are supposed to shoot it.
Like I said earlier, a gun is an idea. A belief that it is dangerous. A bullet is an idea. A belief that it's speed is dangerous. And even if we directly compare a bullet to an idea, a gun to your head; it all fits. Nicely. No headache with this jigsaw, no sir.

An idea can kill people.
What are people but belief systems trapped in live bodies?
A person is what he believes in.
A person exists as long as he believes in existence.
An individual is an individual because the configuration of his belief system is unique.

So when I say an idea can kill people, I mean to say that a perfectly launched idea can destroy shaky belief systems. A bullet, which knows its target well, never fails. Similarly, if an idea (belief) is strong and without doubt, it is invincible. If this idea (belief) is put against ambiguous belief systems, they stand no chance. Because "they are never too sure", while this little belief is self-sufficient and sure of itself. Since it believes in itself, it stands strong.

Can we label this killer idea as righteous?
One can argue that since the Self believes it is right, it can be labeled righteous. But then- why play poker with the concept of polarity? All the decisions that we take are apt during one situation while problematic during some other. No polarity. So the idea is invincible purely because it believes in itself, not because it is 'the right thing to do'. A single idea that believes in itself can shatter those beliefs in denial, those beliefs who lead an illusory existence or even those beliefs that build false constructions. Just like a single bullet that can go through the head of the most headstrong person there is!

I did not use the words 'completely sure' and 'completely believes' because it makes no sense. Either you are sure or you are not. Either you believe or you do not. Either you stand in the sun or you do not. There are no shades in these cases, unless ambiguity is your way of life. And this is not polarity since believing or not believing is neither positive nor negative. It simply is, an individual's choice.

Your hesitant hand and enemy's bullet in your head
We all have read countless number of times in various books that once you start doubting anything, you are creating a favorable environment for those doubts to materialize. If we stop believing, we make our idea weak. This idea (belief) stands no chance even against the shaky belief systems. Just like if we have a hesitant hand over the trigger, the enemy's bullet reaches our head first. And we die. The idea is shattered, once and for all. Even before the delivery could take place.

"Just pop off a few rounds!"
Our mind does not like the box it lives in. Mainly because it is often, knowingly or unknowingly, made to stay in that box. So it tries to break it open, do what it wants to do and simply unwind. It more or less fails and the result we get is a stressed individual. As in 'American Beauty', this stressed individual will 'use' a gun which is able to do what his mind can not. This stressed individual will 'use' a gun to relieve him of his stress instead of freeing his mind. The vain satisfaction.

Popping off a few rounds is the very thing to do, in fact.
Just that- those bullets should be 'beliefs', coming out of a mind that we are calling a 'gun'. These bullets should shatter the non-existent walls we have built around ourselves. And then we may know what freedom is. Freedom is doing what we like, when we like without imposing our will on others. Debates and healthy arguments is not imposing one's will on others. That's where shattering of belief systems comes in.

If you have a gun, shoot it off.
That one bright idea and a strong belief means a lot.
Stuffing it down, blanketing it, doubting it makes no sense.
You wish you had a gun?
"Well you have one in your pocket!"
Your soul's pocket, that is.
Shoot! Now!

The Unbearable Lightness Indeed

My Poetry and Her Feet :)

My Spirit, so free
My Spirit, so passionate
My Spirit, so light
So light indeed
So intensely pleasurable
That intense unbearable pleasure

On those journeys
We make together
In the great endlessness,
We travel with different winds.
Together, yet different winds
One direction, Oneness inside,
Yet parallel winds

Her speech is not poetry
And neither will it ever be
And it doesn’t matter
For the wind is never too high
Never too low

But her actions are poetry
And that is something,
That is something indeed!
The way she blinks her eyes
The way she kisses
And the way she moves
That is poetry!
Oneness experienced
Like the oneness of wind
Oneness of Literature

The wind is never too high
It is always high enough
To rule the sky
To intimidate the high flier
To challenge that one seagull
To challenge that one eagle
To claim the heights

The wind is never too low
It is always low enough
To breathe in the life
To move the silt
To push the mountains
To brush aside the dirt
Of the ignorant
Of the stagnant

Wind is always loved
Whether high or low
For it plays its part well
And is free

My Spirit is the Wind
Utterly Light
It should not be so?
I disagree.

That string of poetry
Binds me to the earth
Earth is alive
And so is she
She makes my Spirit heavy
Keeps it closer to the earth
It should not be so?
I disagree.

I therefore exist
In both the spheres

Sometimes, with her but all alone,
Soaring through the heights
On my wind
A solitary flight
Unimaginable ecstasy
On my wind

Sometimes I make love
To the earth
To her
To her words
Heavy
Satisfied
Drunk on the earthiness
On the damp feel

It is all a sphere
Nothing good, nothing bad
Everything merges into goodwill.

Though my Spirit tries hard
To escape into the skies
Love keeps it among others
Such lightness
Is unbearable indeed
:)

Mind That Asked


Bubble of polarity
That is what we live in.
Dagger stabbed
Dagger twisted
Our smile remains all the same
Trapped in invisible walls
Laws written as per the assumed horizons
Belief in words, in paper and opinions,
Belief in symbols that form one side of the cube
The rest of the sides?
Bullshit, right?
Bullshit is You.

War begun, War ended,
Videos showing conspiracies
Videos showing counter-conspiracies,
Books written by the Conquerors,
Squeals of the Defeated from below the sole
Strong opinions, Strong criticism
Strong control over the mind
Channeled Thoughts
Robotized Movement
Control and Total Control
The Spirit is Bullshit, right?
Bullshit is You.

World looks through its lenses
Individual eyes with individual lenses
Individual minds with individual perceptions
Individuality so grossly underestimated
Individuality so grossly ignored
When one’s world always revolves around oneself
And one’s world is always one’s perspective
Can there be labels? At all?
Bullshit again?
Bullshit is You.

What is money but an understood value?
What is love but an understood emotion?
What is gold but an accepted rarity?
What is a mind but an accepted mystery?
What is soul but an underestimated light?
What is religion but a misunderstood knowledge?
What is the Spirit but an absolute truth?
What is Bullshit but a label by the ignorant?
What is Poetry but the means of the exasperated?
What is a Human but a being who can get exasperated?

What is a Question but an answer in itself?
What came first, the chicken or the egg?
Or the mind that asked?

High Winds


I taste the air
Child of the High Winds
I smell the rawness around
Air, reeks of freedom
My insides, raw from the wrench
The pull, greater and violent
I taste the air.
Lover of the High Winds

I fly amongst the clouds
She catches up too
The spirits make love
For eyes are too busy
Loving each other
And lips are curved
Into warmest smiles.
Lovers of the High Winds

Standing high above
I taste the flavor
I breathe in the fumes
I paint the landscape
I count down the time.
Two Seconds
My life can end.
Two Seconds
My life can begin again.

I taste the air
For the first time
Since I closed the doors
And stood out
Against the illusory walls.

One step on the solid air
For the Air, I build.
Child of the High Winds
:)