Tag Archives: inspiration

The Oyster fought the Ocean.


seashell-on-the-beach

Thrown to the shores, the sands and the slipper marks of people- the oyster struggles to get back to the sea. It is flung to the rocks again and again, again and again…slapped by the tides.

With the shell the oyster shows them, the rocks think it doesn’t hurt the oyster- the oyster is hard. But little do they know, the oyster has a soul that can melt at the slightest of sands, sun and suffering.
But the oyster hides it soul so soft with a shell so tough. Because it knows the world doesn’t pity the meek, it pains them. The world gains nothing, nothing but sinful succour.

The oyester is tired, wants to stop this fight, give up and sit back on the beach.
But it wont. Because it knows, either way it can’t survive.
It is fated for the sea, or fated to die striving to reach the sea.

In the fight between the ocean and the oyster, between fate and the fated, luck and the last struggles, an intruder breaks in…

It slips into the oyster’s shell, an intruder who cannot be expelled.

The parasite knows and the oyster knows too.
In the end, only one would survive- either an empty shell of a dead oyster and a triumphant parasite; or a pearl, shining gratitude towards its soft creator.

With time the oyster transforms the parasite into an object of admiration from an object of abject dislike- into a pearl drop.

But to do this the oyster has to survive the attempts of murder by this enemy hiding within its own soul.
It had won over the waves, shelling itself hard. The waves, the ocean were the enemy outside.
But it has to win over the parasite too, the enemy within. It cannot shell now, this enemy has holed into its soft soul.
It might have been soft, but it has to be strong now.
And Sometimes soft can be strong too…

It is a tussle between strength and intent,
between malice and benevolence,
between traitor and the truth.

And the bet is, the one who would win over the other would survive and transform the other.
Transform beyond thoughts into someone whom the world will love, into someone who would love thyself too…

pearl

A pearl drop is born. A parasite has died.
The weary oyster ogles at the ocean, knowing it has survived.

Intent wins over strength,
Benevolence over malice,
Truth over the traitor.

The oyster returns to the sea,unknown, anonymous.
The pearl is treasured, adored, famous.

The Ocean fought the Oyster.
The Pearl won.

The Climb


mountain_top1

I wanted to see the world,
From a place, where it couldn’t see me.
I wanted to show the world,
A face, that it would long to be.

I walked on.
The slope was with me,
The hope was with me.
The road ahead, I could clearly see.

Slopes followed my stride,
Sun became my guide.

Air in my hair,
Wind in my wings.
I walked and strode,
Waves of luck I rode.

There stopped the thrill.
I found,
I had climbed down the hill!

The world could see me,
But didn’t want to,
I wanted to run away,
But didn’t know where to.

●~●~●~●~●~●~●~●~●~●~●

I started again-
Dejection. Despair. Pain.

The sun burnt my face,
Winds pushed me back,
The slopes tortured me,
I could hardly walk.

climbing-on-top-of-mountain

I fought on,
Pebbles holed my feet.
Luck eluded me,
But I couldn’t accept defeat.

I wriggled. I crawled,
And stopped-
for breath.

It was breath-taking!
The View!!
The view from the Top!!!

I could see the world,
The world couldn’t see me.
I was all that Now,
I ever wanted to be.

My Climb
P.S.: Sometimes poems are not the poet’s child, but a gift. And this one is one such gift.A gift from a teacher, who happened to come my way; who happened to touch my life with thoughts profound than a poem; who happened to help me climb and conquer, the mountain of fear I had built before me.
Khan Sir! I wish I could repeat after you “Insha~Allah” a million times. I stop, and murmur it in my mind, because I know those words wouldn’t sound as sweet from me, as when you utter them.
But let me just say it now, “Insha~Allah Sir, I have climbed, if not conquered yet- the mountains!!”
The child in you showed me the text on your phone that you had sent to your friend. The poet in me lent a tune to your thoughts. Yet, your thoughts seem wiser than this tune to me now!
Thank you Sir! Insha~Allah I climbed. 🙂

And “The View”!! Somebody saw it for me before I could see it on my own…Saw it with eyes more beautiful than mine, and yet chose to gift and stay anonymous 🙂
A picture is a poem plus meaning, minus words.
So should I say, A Thousand Thankyous to the Pixel Poet for this picture!!
I climbed, but you captured the view.:)
With such genuine, generous, gifted people and their good will with me, I am all that Now, I ever  wanted to be”