Poems by Dr. Jernail Singh Anand  

 
Poems by Dr. Jernail Singh Anand
 
 
THE FOOL
 
I roll on the water and wonder
What can I do about the ocean
When I can’t see myself
Only others tell me
My physiography.
 
What I can eat, what digest
And what disturbs my constitution
I came to know by and by
These conditions existed
Before I came to life.
 
I walk on this kindly earth
A mile
And seeing light grow wings
And fly to my death
The talk of values meanings appears highblown.
 
World is a web of conspiracies
Let not one claim freedom
From pain
Losses softwrapped in joys
Falsify all gain..
 
All action in Kurukshetra
And Mathura or even Lanka
Is divine treatment of human folly
Our guardian angel ,
Characteristic of the human progression.
 
 
***
 
Your poem titled “The Fool” is a poem that expounds the concept of nothingness which is the fundamental idea dotting this world in general and humanity in particular.We are living in a world of mesmerisation and still we try to make sense of it all.We are not aware about what we are and often we see the play of life without knowing its storyline.We often act in a manner which we are not.This world does have a trajectory of motion with which we also have that movement of turbulent wavelengths.World does have an origin and it also does have an endgame.These are the predetermined or premeditated facts or realities.The life here on Earth is like a wind blowing through the air.It passes by without anybody overwhelmingly aware about it.In this short span of life,values crumble because we don’t have the stamina to face upto the machinations of this world.This world is steeped in betrayal,backstabbing and deceit.The philosophy of suffering of various hues and colours or persuasions is the order of the day.Running away from it is the biggest folly in life.We are captivated by the manipulative glitters of this world every now and then.Our wars,battles,conflicts,discords and destructive tendencies are our own undoing.Through our omissions and commissions,we go from bad to worse in this world of wavering nature.Kudos to you for composing such a poem of paramount philosophy.
 
Cijo Joseph Chennelil.
Kuravilangad 2021@
 
 
CHORUS
 
How great is human passion for contest
Even ordinary men do not
In their shoes rest
For eons, men have been
In pursuit of a quaint fate
No one can precisely articulate.
 
What thought propelled Satan
To rise against God
Which led to generations
Of machinators working day and night
In order to challenge the heavenly might?
 
And what passion stirred Fauatus
To deviate from the common race of men,
And seek unmanly knowledge
And power with fraud
That brought him in direct conflict with God?
 
Alexander!
Vow in the name of your ancestors
And honestly tell
Which fell juice made you part
With your sense
And set you after ravaging
Land after land spelling devastation?
 
Were Abdalis and Baburs in chase
Of unbridled power
Simply to push
Farther and farther
The reach of their empirical eccentricity
To compete with eternity?
 
And, does their legitimate heir, Man,
Still carry aloft an empty chamber Extravagantly laced
With crazy Passions
To create chaos so that
He can rule the legions with crafts infernal?
(No ruler is needed if there is no unrest).
 
 
THE SAGE
 
No. I don’t think so.
Behind every passion which dislocated human wisdom,
Is a lurking wish to create an empire of luxury,
And lead a peaceful life.
It is this lethargic dream which steams the ships
Which finally destroy kingdoms
While the cries of human beings fall flat on ears
Given to hear only drums of victory.
So that it doesn’t look irrelevant,
They attach honour to battles
And power to actions
Which would otherwise look ridiculous
 
 
POET
 
We are the warriors of Odysseus,
Who always dream of indolent joys
Of the lotus-land,
Where they finally come to rest,
And forget all about the world.
 
Drinking life to the lees!!
How misconveived was the struggle!
Plant pillars and posts (not trees)
So that you can keep running.
And perish while running from pillar to post.
 
I talked to the bones after fire had sucked
All the evil of flesh
And reduced all passions to dust
They were ready to be cycled back
For another round of reckless activity
In search of an Al Dorado of combatless passivity.
 
 

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