The Way

He made His way through the manger,
He made His way through the cross,
When a Savior was born to them,
Away from Jerusalem,
In the city of Bethlehem.

He made His way through the manger,

He made His way through the cross,
When the people were mesmerized,
As the water turned to wine,
And the demons entered the swine.

He made His way through the manger,
He made His way through the cross,
When the soldiers surrounded the king,
And Iscariot did such a thing-
For the 30 silver coins, a kiss became the sin.

But His death was only the beginning,

Of beauty in suffering.
Like the glory of a single sun ray,
His people continued on The Way.

He made His way through the manger,
He made The Way through the cross,
When Peter declared him Christ,
The man who denied him thrice,
Made another three thousand rise.

He made His way through the manger,

He made The Way through the cross,
Nothing was in vain,
Even when Stephen was slain,
There was an inspiration being inflamed.

He made His way through the manger,

He made The Way through the cross,
When Saul forced them to sway,
And made the Christians his prey,
Was chosen to lead The Way.

Know that the King will come again,

And the heavens will forever reign.
But fire waits those who forsake,
And the rest will rise above human race.

For He is the truth and the life.

He is my way – the only way.

My Lady

When she kisses my neck,

My blood pounds in my veins,

My senses awake,

Yet my mind relaxes.

She has a power over me,

She has a grasp over my life.

I submit to her perfection,

Nothing can replace her majesty.

Yet she is meek as a servant,

When she sleeps all by herself,

Awaiting my fingers,

To run along her locks.

Her sweet silence is my slumber,

Her every utterance is my breath,

When my soul meets her heart,

I hear the symphony of my life.

A beauty so profound,

Her curves so perfect,

O queen of my heart,

Salvation of my soul.

Thou art the lady,

who makes my world whole.

The night was dark and silent and i sat alone in the upstairs room of my house. the lights were switched off and my face was glowing in the blue haze emitted by the laptop screen in front of me.

The laptop was connected to the internet, I was virtually connected to the entire world. I could watch every video I ever wanted to watch or I could chat online with the never ending flow of friends who make themselves available at such late hours since they are free at no other time of the glorious day.

But there I dint want to do any of that. something was missing in my heart, something was not in place, something was bothering me. I closed my eyes and i could visualize the perfect curves carved out of wood of my violin, i could feel the warmth of the wood on my body. I realized what was missing in my life at that moment. As I sat in this room after having celebrated Christmas just the previous day, I thought about my violins, back in the desolated hostel room, miles away from me.

'A beauty so profound

Her curves so perfect.'

As i did not have any pen or pencil at my disposal at that moment, i marked those verses in my mind and switched off my laptop.

Few weeks later, as I sat in my Literature class, and sleep began creeping into my (innocent) eyes, i decided to complete 'My Lady' on the back of my notebook under the pretext that I was 'actually' taking down notes on the subject. .

Revival of Life

Hail o comrade in life.

Soothing words are what you seek.

For there will come a time,

A moment, that never seems to cease.

When success never comes your way,

Failure after failure shall wrap you,

Tears of sorrow shall drown your heavy heart,

Darkness shall swallow all your light,

Peace will be a virtue you will only dream,

Death shall strike your fallen mind,

And you will remain in your grave as if forever.

But rise o comrade I tell you.

Break your coffin of humiliation.

Take the reins of your life and ride.

On a road back to power and glory.

Avenge your past and make a new beginning.

Rise o comrade I tell you.

And make your weakness your strength,

Your curse your blessing,

Make this life worth living,

For the elixir to success is believing

That, you can do anything.

The day was bright. And my class room was brighter. Everyone was excited. The next period was chemistry and our sir was to distribute the answer scripts of the Mock 2 examnitaions. I sat quiety at my desk in the corner of the class. My friends knew what was going on in my mind. But they dint know how to console me. 

Yeah, i was sure that i would not pass. Somehow the science textbooks after class 10 never made sense to me. expecially physics. but i had sincerely prepared for this exam, and the very thought that i would not pass was discouraging as ever. I thought about my future, if i were to continue with my medical studies, chemistry would be an essential part of my syllabus. and here, in school, in spite of studying so much, if i could not pass, what would i do with bio-chemistry in college! My biology was up to the mark and i liked the subject, but I would never be a doctor if i keep failing in chemistry like this. I had to decide what the course of my life should be like on this day. It all depended on this answer script i was about to receive.

The class went quiet. Of course, sir had entered, i was back to the Class XII B, a student of science and here was my fate about to be declared. As the students got up from their seats to collect theirs, i shut my eyes. After almost the entire class had received the answer scripts, my name was called out. My friends fixed their gaze at me. Something told me that they felt pity for me. I hated that more than hell itself. I reached the front of the class, the sir gave me a look that i cannot describe in words, but i knew what it meant-yes i failed. I gave a weak smile, and walked back to my seat in complete distress and shame. I sat on my chair and just kept smiling at everyone who looked at me. One of them came up to me and patted my back, 'you can do it for the boards, you have one month man, cheer up!'.

Yeah right, tell that to my parents. I sat there looking at the happy faces around me, but i looked sympathetically at few students who were grumbling that they dint receive marks that they deserved. I went to them, 'hey its fine. relax. how much you got anyways?'. They answered me and I immediately turned my back at them and sat down at my place with a thud, CRAP - is int 85% good enough for these idiots? 

All my hopes of doing well in life were shattered. I could not stand the shame and disgrace and pity anymore. I closed my eyes and prayed, 'Oh Lord, show me the Way, out of this life.' The bell rang and the sir walked out, and in came my English teacher, 'Aghil, come out for a moment.' Her face was shining and i wondered what had happened to her. I walked out of the class lazily and met her in the corridor. She smiled at me and patted my arm, ' You just received the Class A Commendation Award for your Essay from the Commonwealth Society in London.' I gazed at her for a moment. The Royal Commonwealth society in London! 'The certificate is a very important one, so keep it safe, and congratulations. The principal would officially be giving you the certificate during the morning assembly. Now go back to class.' 

She smiled at me. I was dumbstruck. I walked back to class quietly. I sat down at my place and said nothing to anyone. At the end of the day, I could not help but break the news to my friends. And after a long time, I felt like i did achieve something worthwhile and to be proud of. That night, I thought about all the failures I faced and decided to try my hand at something different, something daring, something that none of my friends would ever think of doing-and time proved it. I decided to try my luck with English, thought of putting away matters of money, comforts, ambitions, and going behind the will of my heart. 'Where your treasure is, there your heart shall be.' I was always ridiculed for writing poetry (cant blame them,i used to write poetry while i was in the examination hall) or doing well in English (while I did badly for other subjects-so no complaints), and every one said that this would not help me in the long run and I need to pay more attention to the sciences i did. But that night I decided to 'make my weaknesses my strength, and my curse, my blessing'... This verse struck me and before it could die out I switched on my study lamp, to write down 'Revival of Life'

Mortal Bonds

Ending of one,

Beginning of another,

For this is life,

A journey of many meetings and partings.

He who wearies his heart,

On parting old mates is a fool.

For he will do nothing in life,

Other than mourn.

And he who rejoices,

On meeting new ones be warned,

You will part some day.

For nothing is as it is forever.

When old bonds are broken,

New ones will be formed.

When old friends are lost,

New ones will be found.

One day this bond of life too shall break,

But remember that it is only the beginning,

Of yet another.

I was sitting at the study table in my room. The air conditioner was switched on, though it was a cold day of January 2010. I always maintained my room at 23-24 degrees (Celsius). This was the temperature i could work in. The soft running of the air conditioner muffled the sound of the vehicles which were on the highway below my apartments, running at speeds above 120Km/h. I looked out from my window, I could get a glimpse of the beach which opened into the Arabian Sea. I recalled the countless number of times I went there in the past 17 years. 

But now it was time for me to leave this city. My class 12 Mock Exams were going on and in a month's time I would appear for the class 12 CBSE boards. But after the exams, i dint know what I would do. I dint want to be a doctor (though i was preparing for biology and the medical examinations), nor did i want anything to do with medicine. Even if i did, i was not sure where i would study. Would I be in one of the states in my home country, or somewhere else.

The worse fear was that of loosing old friends I made in school. The very thought of making new ones was scary. I was scared if I would make the right friends, I dint know how i would live all by myself, without having to depend on my parents, I dint want to break my shell of comfort. 

But then i realized that it was inevitable. As I sat on that chair, with my science books spread out in front of me, I thought about the chemical bonds that has to be broken to be transformed into new substances. 

                  'When old bonds are broken

                    New ones will be formed'

Before I knew it, i had already snatched a paper from my shelf and my Faber Castell ball point pen scribbled 'Mortal Bonds'.

A Dead Man’s Words

The last air that I shall ever breathe had left me

And I could feel the cold creeping over me

I wanted to tell them to stop crying for me

But I knew that I shall never speak

I wanted to embrace them

But I knew that I shall never move

Alas! The good Lord had called my soul early

Many were the things left for me to do

But I knew that I shall never finish them

I was dressed in white linen and placed in a coffin

They put a crucifix on my chest

Then I was lifted and carried by tall men

The journey to the graveyard had begun

And it seemed ages before they laid the coffin on the fresh grass

I could see a priest bending over me

His lips moved in prayer but I knew that I shall never hear him

He threw some flowers on me and everyone did the same

It was time to close the coffin and

I strained to have a last glimpse of this beautiful world

But I was drowned in darkness and at that moment I thought-

From dust I came, to dust I return

True, for I could feel the men lowering me

Into the grave they had prepared for me

Lower and lower and lower I went

And then everything was still

After all:

I was a dead man.                 

It was a fine morning. The sun was bright as ever and the streets were busy as usual. I was at my mom's place for vacations.

While having my breakfast, my younger cousin came to me running and said, "A young man passed away yesterday. His house is down the lane. They are going to bury him today.' It was only the previous night that I was narrating one of my created horror stories to him about graveyards and spirits. And the death of this young man was a little disturbing. After all I was hardly 7 years old.

However, the two of us decided to accompany our uncle to the funeral. On entering the dead man's house, there was an eerie silence. It seemed like all the happiness in my life was drained out when I stepped in (more like the Dementor effect). There was weeping all around me. I held my uncle's arm tightly and my cousin clutched mine tighter.

After sometime, the casket was taken out and kept on a decorated hearse. There were altar boys holding candles and an elderly man stood between the two young boys, with a big silver cross lined with tiny bells. The people formed a procession led by the man with the cross. The hearse followed the cross and the people followed the hearse. So did my uncle, cousin and I. As we walked through the congested street, a hymn was being sung and prayers being chanted. Before I knew it, we had reached the church cemetry. A grave was already prepared for him, and a priest blessed the casket and few men helped to lower the coffin into the grave.

Minutes later, as we walked back to our house in silence, I thought about the entire incident. My 7-year-old mind imagined the dead man still being able to sense the happenings around him, I imagined what would that man say if he was given a chance to speak about his own funeral. The fact that he was dead and would never come back to life did not matter to me at that age. With time I stopped thinking about it.

An year later, in my Catechism class, which was more than 2000 miles away from that graveyard, my teacher was talking about death and she quoted a line from the Holy Bible-'From dust I came, to dust I return'. At that moment, I recalled the funeral of the dead man. But like a dying flame, my thoughts about the entire event died. However 7 years later, for reasons unknown to myself,  I sat down, on a cold December night, recalling the incident that took place more than 10 years before, to write down 'A Dead Man's Words‘.