The Simpleton Diaries

A piece on/of peace

2018-04-08T04:49:00.000-07:00

I went to places searching,
to find me some peace.
And the wise men said, don't you know?
It's in you, inside you, you dunce.
I said, but, with the dance
of the beast inside,
How do you find peace inside?

Where is the peace?
Is it at the end of this race?
Days are long. Yet life seems done.
Or will there be some when we are ghosts
of who we thought we were?

Where is the peace?
Just give me one piece.
Or is it when breath ceases,
only to become air?

Where is the peace?
Except in two places..
in the womb we came from,
Or the tomb we go to?

I wish I had one wish.
I'd wish for water to catch fire.
Then all we'd need is one rain,
to drench the world.
And then we burn this world.
We could hope for peace then
for our children to find,
in the ashes.

Treadmill monologues

2017-06-24T07:42:00.003-07:00

The treadmill is a funny thing. Its the first choice of exercise when I enter the gym. I don't know what is it about it, but maybe because I always felt it does half the work for you. Its good to get a push at the start of the day. Maybe a reward for getting up and making it to the gym. Once you are there its not difficult. In fact, working out is like a drug. Its addictive. It gives you a feeling that you are moving ahead, going strong and every day you need more, you do more. Also funny is the fact that when I look around me, everyone is walking, jogging and sprinting on the treadmill with so much determination and sense of purpose, you can see it on their face; me included. Its as though we are all going to reach somewhere, a place even beyond Elysium. But our plan fails. The timer runs out and we are still here. The treadmill fails to take us to promised lands.

I have broken into a sweat and that's what I came here for. That's the drug. It washes out all that you did, didn't or wanted to do yesterday. That's what I like about physical exercise, its like a mental reset for the brain. So I continue on and on, in search of more sweat. I see rorschach designs on everybody's T-shirts that the sweat makes. Its probably the darkness inside everyone coming out. But I am more interested in mine. That's how I clock my time in the gym. At some point when you are soldiering on, you have reached critical mass and the sweat doesn't stop. At that point how much ever you wipe off the sweat your gym towel feels useless; that's when YOU start feeling useful. ( A note to a friend here, avid blogger and gymmer(?) who recently had a whole post dedicated to his gym towel, I feel your sentiment bro. Also before you comment, no pegs were used in the writing of this post :) )

After a while, the rorschach on my shirt has disappeared in a monolith of sweat. That's my cue. The heart is beating hard. Sweating hard, the rush. That's when I feel I have given a small quantum of mass and energy back to the universe and in that instant I enjoy a quantum of solace. Today's salvation is the five steps I take from inside the gym as I walk out the door. Because outside it, the day is waiting. We will all take it on, failing and succeeding and in the process gathering some self-doubt and some hubris, but I will be back here again tomorrow to lose both.

The Last Prayer

2017-04-01T10:58:00.002-07:00

Here I lay, my lord,
The night so dark.
Darker is our soul,
So easy to lose it whole.

I pray'd to you, my lord,
make me all that I am not;
Been chasing rainbows
from the womb to the tomb.
Yet there it was, bliss,
in the dew drops at my feet,
Only if I'd look away from the abyss.

I pray'd to you my lord,
For power, pleasure and ecstasy
but the prayers they were empty.
And all in store for us, the pain,
Please lord, take it away, the pain,
like the first monsoon rain.

We are still praying to you, lord
You've given a long rope, of hope
So fallen we are, We tied it to a noose;
On the hanging tree of sins
Our need is greed, and that we breed.
Soul laid to rust with all the lust.
Fanning the flames of hell so high,
I am sorry, lord, your halo's on fire.

And yet, still to you, lord, we pray,
Inside of us, the soul of Dorian Gray.
And as I close my eyes to sleep;
I now pray for you, my lord,
That if we die before we wake;
There's a soul down here left for you to take.

-Abhijit Patil

Inches

2016-01-18T21:04:00.001-08:00

Within all these inches of time and space we live, fight and survive. Its not an inch too far or too near, not an inch too soon or too late but the inch you get that matters more often than not. Because providence favours that one inch more than others. Its these very inches by which you miss each other on our Indian roads. And I don't know where else but in these inches I am dead certain there is a god. Let that inch be with you.

Shared from Google Keep

Hope Kills

2015-06-27T00:36:00.001-07:00

Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.
- Friedrich Nietzsche

Day Breaks,
Night falls;
Tumbling through life.
Rhyme and reason,
nowhere on the horizon.
Felt you would take it on
Unravel a great mystery,
But all its become,
A ritual misery.
And as each day ends,
Inadequate reality dawns.
that all that it is,
fucked by fate,
dogged by dogma,
designed by destiny.
But through the darkness
a glimmer that hope shows,
Again you hang on to it, cling to it.
A new day is coming, it says,
But fooled are we, as together with it
does it bring again,
the old hope's betrayal.

© Abhijit Patil

A Side of Paradise

2012-12-29T07:05:00.001-08:00

Here you are looking deep and down
the dark abyss, life of your own
pursuing what meaning has this self.
It is eating you inside, isnt it?
gnawing at your soul, if there is one.
Purpose of your existence, if there is one.

Purpose might find you yet,
May lead you yet to paradise.
But a purpose which might not suffice;
A paradise which might fail you still.
Dont you see, better to create purpose
Better to have a side of paradise, your own.

Seeing your strife is so tiring;
between having to and wanting to.
But its all the rules that led us here,
Created this crisis, of existence.
Simplicity of living, laid to ruin
Why dont you create a side of paradise, your own.

So stop trying to find meaning and make your own.
Purpose, found easier on an empty stomach;
not on an empty soul. So in this life so short,
Let your purpose be joy, my love
Lose the grief and spite, turn to me my love,
We make a side of paradise, our own.

Temple Of Ruin

2011-11-25T09:32:00.001-08:00

Whats become of the creed, my brother?

People filling their coffers

with so much dirty coin

And filling their head

with empty irrationalities;

A temple of gold is no building

to atone their sins.

Oh why Oh why, cant they see

the cobwebs of dogma gathered

in their temple over the ages.

How do I see all this, my brother?

and they dont.

None of this was to be,

Not in the book that they swear on.

So lets stop waiting now,

No more prophets are coming now.

It is time, lets bring this diseased

temple of theirs down on them.

It is time, my brother,

for the gods to die now.

They need some new ones now

We build a promised land now

From the ruins of the old now.

©Abhijit Patil

A Thing of Beauty

2011-09-04T19:32:00.001-07:00

All this world to me a painful dose

Of people, so full of scorn

Prickly like many a thorn.

And yet when I hold you close

Feels as if cradling a rose.

And when this world has tired me

Should I see your smile

Like glistening dew drops,

And when I catch your glance

with those mischievous eyes

Love to feel my heart flutter.

For you my dear,

are my heart’s desire,

my soul’s fulfilment

the sunshine of my life

You my dear, are my joy for ever.

The Devil's Ride

2011-03-19T10:54:00.000-07:00

Why worry about god and sin?

Spare a thought about your kin

Of the world you leave them;

A world thats gone very wrong,

in the hands of us, sinners all.

They say we are born of sin, you and me

But why sin against each other?

Everyone killing their brother

And hurting their mother

Robbing their joys

God’s green earth, a wasteland

Of your ploys.

No good repenting now,

Providence, have your retribution now.

Should have thought of this,

before you made up heaven and hell.

We‘ve made the gods cry

Got drunk on their tears.

So don’t worry now, of

knockin on heaven’s door

Just wait here, under the

growing shadow of our sins.

Heaven doesn’t have a bell,

But the Devil gives a ride

straight down to hell.

An ode to dreams

2010-11-29T21:23:00.000-08:00

I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.
-Bill Watterson

i see dreams
yes like you
i see dreams
my best dreams
seen with open eyes
while i drink raindrops
from the skies

But you say what of dreams
they are just dreams
like gleaming streams
fleeting that each one seems

You dream of things
that others possess
but you forget,
your dream
somebody's nightmare
your nightmare
somebody's reality.

Of all those dreams
lost and forgotten
impossible and improbable
hold on to the one
the one that keeps you awake
the one that's inevitable

you say i am a dreamer
deep down, you know
you're one too
come on friend, lets dream
together we make it real

A nice morning

2010-11-07T00:41:00.001-07:00

Well got up this morning, fairly early at about 6.40, considering it is a holiday. And the first thing on my mind, i can feel the ritual misery of work as tomorrow beckons. While brushing my teeth i felt the need to mark this day, last in a long festive weekend. So i put on my running shoes and decided to go for a jog at the park at sankey tank. Usually i'd take the bike, but the weather felt nice for a walk and its a long walk, so i guess that would warm me up for the jog. Its a really nice place. Whenever i come here i wonder why don't i come here often. after a bit of stretching i decide to jog, I jog on and off from one end to the other , a fairly long distance mind you (for i aint an Ethiopian long distance runner) I relax and stretch again for a couple of minutes. Now i am determined not to stop for as long as i can, So i start again, this time trying to remember to breathe only through my nose. I make it more than halfway and have broken into a sweat now. I can hear my heart pumping hard. My legs are threatening to give up. But i push on. I tell myself i'll reach the next lamp post. But every time i say to myself I can make it to the next one. Ten lamp posts go by and then I lose count. And I am dripping with sweat now. Every muscle crying out aching with pain. But I am laughing in my head. There's maiden playing in my ear. Bruce shouting out '..if there's a god why does he let me go..' I had almost forgotten this joy that pain giveth. When you are so tired, and you can't move a muscle, but ironically u feel free. Somehow this morning I am now sure there is a god. I bend down and hold my knees to take a breather for a few seconds. There's a girl running like there's no tomorrow. She looks at me and looks away in disdain, I couldn't care less. For I am thinking of my love. She's so beautiful. I sit down at a bench and gaze at the lake. It looks really good after they restored the whole area and the weather is particularly nice. Its cloudy and fairly dull, but there's a gentle cool breeze which helps me cool down. It seems like its a minute away from raining but it doesn't rain and thats the best kind of weather. See a few ducks swimming around. I wonder what would be their concerns in the day. Just looking for food all day, or a mate at the most? There's a small island in the middle of the lake with a few dried up trees. A couple of beautiful white swans keep flying off from there and returning back to the old trees. Just like my mind trying to explore new things but again forced to get back in line with the world. But I make a promise to myself to come back here daily and leave. I get out of the place and right in front there's a coffee day.. didn't notice it while going in. Stupid things are springing up everywhere you see. I start my walk back home and then get into my favourite fast food place and have a strong filter coffee standing on the footpath. And then it starts, a light rain. The drizzle waters down my strong coffee. But i don't mind. Life's good. Atleast until I get back to work tomorrow.

A Call to Sanity

2010-09-30T07:27:00.001-07:00

With poetry, my mind i flex – Rage Against the Machine

I thank you lord, good god

for you made us; but we made this thing

This thing called religion.

Designed to divide your creation

False prophets claim your name,

we fight, do their bidding

But dragged in the dust, your name.

Are you there lord? Or you left us?

Defenders of religion, you all enemies of reason.

We build temples, of gold and silver

But do you forget.. he expects much less?

You think this is the good god's fight?

But your ignorance, darker than the night.

Aren't you ashamed?

for you have shamed your maker.

I am a lunatic, when I am poetic

But lend me your ears,

You who call yourself believers

I am a beacon of sanity;

in this endless sea of insanity

A case of a mental block

2010-08-04T05:17:00.000-07:00

I write this not because i want to. But because i have to. Its been quite a while since i wrote something on this, my blog, since i made a conscious decision to put up only poetry. But now i dont care.. I am beyond care. Coz i need to grease my still brain cells, need to sharpen my neurons. And with these words I hope to do that. Get back to flexing my mind. I dont care. I dont care if i ramble on, meaningless. I am beyond meaning. Whats a blog meant for anyway? Who ever came up with this idea? This whole idea of people writing about their feelings, thinkings. Thinking? Can that be a noun? I dont care. I am gonna use it anyway. I have a licence. Artistic licence. Licence no.FCK0ff666. Anyway keep telling the world how u feel in your nice little blog. But the world will tell you, it doesnt give a damn. But I dont care. We can all go on talking in this nice virtual so called 'blogosphere' about whats wrong, about what should change. But you and me, we are armchair revolutionaries. A blog is not a revolution. So stop feeling as though you caused some change in some butterfly effect manner. Maybe you all got is another two-bit worth blogger like you sitting in darkness of his ignorance nodding in enlightened agreement. But i dont care. I look for enlightenment. But I dont know enlightenment. The Buddha knew enlightement. Yes he saw enlightenment. He said there are 4 truths. These truths are basically all to do with misery and suffering. So now i will take upon myself the task of spreading the dude's word. Firstly, recognise suffering. Birth, Illness, Old age and Death are the ones. Sheesh! i thought my job was suffering. How naive of me! Secondly, he wants u to know the root of this misery in life. which is nothing but craving or desire. So that means if u crave a cake, this will either way lead to misery irrespective of whether u have a cake or not. Remember that saying, You cant have a cake and eat it too. I get it now. Someone was applying the Buddha's teaching i guess. Well in my opinion he should get a cake for that, or better yet a brownie. Well maybe he did have some brownies. Maybe the Amsterdam kind. Who knows? I dont care. I left the Buddha few lines ago. If you were disappointed you couldnt learn enlightenment. Wiki it. I dont care. Feels good to ramble and rant. You should try it.

Purpose

2010-04-30T20:39:00.001-07:00

In deep forests a devil lurks;

The depths of your mind, find the urge.

doing what everyone does,

Isn't there a joy, bigger than money's worth?

Go do what you always dreamt of

cut loose from society's shackles;

Scared of heights you might scale?

Betraying yourself, you're your own judas

mediocrity, the bane of your existence.

Listen to your bringers, listen to your maker,

listen when, to yourself?

Take the road less travelled by,

ain't no grass to be found on a beaten path

So go unleash your devil, dance with it

No more half measures,

Every inch yours, take it.

Strings

2010-03-01T21:00:00.000-08:00

This one's for you , bro.. Cheers!

Its been a day, long and hard

We've wandered enough,

through this wood

It seems forever endless

Beautiful and painful wilderness

Dont know where we're going,

dont know what we're doing.

Lets settle down in this clearing,

and think about a life heading.

Lets get a fire going..

Keep us warm and keep us company.

Just take out your guitar

and play those strings;

Sweet memory that music brings.

Make me forget all things

Just play those strings;

Hit that octave,

that one's my fave.

I love those strings;

With every pluck a strain vanishes,

Its all i want, every trouble diminishes.

Just play those strings;

There's a promise of new mornings,

Friend, just play those strings.

The Night has Eyes

2010-01-15T21:14:00.001-08:00

What are you doing little one?

The night has long come

Go to sleep little one

Why do you stay awake?

Staring into the dark

The dogs, they always bark.

Don't fear the night,

About things which might

Go to sleep little one

Count the sheep, one by one.

So what if they turn into dragons?

Mind is the only animal, lad

which can breathe fire.

Why fear the night?

They are a farce,

The things which give you a fright.

What makes you scared, so afraid?

Don't fear the night.

Break free from that fear,

Fear that cripples,

Fear that stifles.

Why fear the night?

Go to sleep little one

Are you scared.. that no one

Watches over you in the night

Go to sleep little one

The night has eyes.

WAR CRY

2009-12-13T02:28:00.001-08:00

More jobless days.. brings out the mood of poetry in me.. Time to wax eloquence or at least try,

The warrior stands his ground

The thoughts in his mind abound

What makes him fight, makes him kill

He has no answers, it's all a drill

He looks to the heavens, dawn skies crimson red

Not in prayer, but a smirk that mocks the gods

The battlefield soil red soaked in yesterday's blood

The dust rises as the wind blows across the armies

Seems to muddle his spirit, raises many doubts

What's right, what's wrong

He looks into his soul

But its a gaping hole

His enemies are many, He takes out his sword

It is the keeper of their destinies

He raises high his sword, his men to see

The blade flashes, blinding his enemies and cold steel

The last thing they will all feel

He kisses the blade, its a slayer

Slain by it, You will get no prayer

He lets out a scream, ready, his men follow

Knows victory is on his side

Alas! he's dead inside.

A verse continued..

2009-09-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

So the other day i was reading up on my background research for my project in the library. Trying to understand the intricacies of the MPLS architecture(!) and seeking to improve it in my project which needless to say was not achieved. But then, that is research! So hitting a mental block with my project i looked up and saw these lines carved into the desk..

The sun that never sets burns on

new light is the river's dawn.

The blood that runs through me

is not my own

I thought about the guy who wrote it and what he had in his mind when he wrote it and what caused him to digress from his own work. But whatever the reason i decided to honour the verse in the only best way i could, write a few lines of my own. So i wrote..

Look at the way the wind has blown

of all the things gone down.

Why doesn't your blood boil,

How do we repay our ancestors' toil?

I dont know if they make sense together, but the beauty of it to whoever comes upon this desk is that it remains anonymous. Sometimes I hope I return years later, to the same desk to see more verses after mine and a poem still unfinished and still unnamed.

Vending Machine Justice

2009-09-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

Well i have always had a kind of love hate relationship with vending machines, since you never know if its going to pop out something it holds or is just going to eat up your money. Although you dont see too many of them in India(which makes me glad, since it means employment for a person), there were far too many I came across in the UK and a far too many ate my money. They are virtually ubiquitous vending everything from chips(crisps for my english friends!) to contraceptives. Anyway back to the story, as I said, many a vending machine had failed me or rather deceived me. So one night, I was really hungry after a few unusually rare hours of study at the library. Deciding to get myself a chocolate, I said a prayer to all the gods of vending and popped in a coin and pushed a button. It started whirring and made some ambient noises of providing me with the promise of a snack. Being already skeptical and prejudiced against vending machines, i pushed the button again. What happened next was not earth shattering by any measure, but it dropped two chocolates, not one and I was sure i put in the price for just one. Needless to say I was thrilled. So I tried the same thing next night with the same result. I took it as redemption for the times i was wronged by these diabolical machines. This led me to conclude that when it comes to vending machines, what goes around, comes around twice.

An Everyday Prayer

2009-04-18T08:55:00.001-07:00

You are the hope in my spirit,

You are the courage in my heart,

You are the dagger in my hand,

Let me not falter; Let me not fail.

Questions

2009-03-04T15:10:00.000-08:00

Ever since man has walked the earth he has asked himself many questions. He has also asked those around him. Questions. They are important. Important questions like why are we here or what is the purpose of my life? As important as they may seem, they are sometimes rhetorical. Those are kind of questions which can produce more questions. So you might ask yourself, can too many questions be healthy for you. Sure ‘what time is it?’ is also a question. But it is a question without consequence, or so you might think, because what if it is your time? So there’s food for thought.. Some questions bring u answers and some bring you more questions. Like those rhetorical ones I mentioned above, are maybe not meant to be answered, only questioned. Just like some fights are not meant to be won, only sustained. So that brings us to another question, What is the importance of such a question, which has no answer? Well maybe its not the answer that matters, But the pursuit of the answer.
I went through a phase when I was asking ‘why’ for everything people said. I don’t know how it started, but everyone got really annoyed. Because well, it just seems silly sometimes. So now I question things which are only more questionable. Well that’s all I have to say about that. For the record, I wasn’t smoking anything when I wrote this. I don’t need to. I am always high with a question or two.