ALSphere Foundation
Despair, Dullness, Despondency abound
For Life cannot be a bed of roses
Neither an incurable malady, nor Yama roaring in his usual baritone at your doorstep
“Ce n’est pas possible,” the French would utter
For Oizys rules the roost, pervading in every nook and cranny
Life can be a stagnant water at times,
When touching the zenith of sky is a mere mirage of hope
For it is not the cheery, iridescent rainbow-
Rather, it is Mrig Trishna- an illusive, small pond of water in the scorching heat of the desert
Poverty, Beggary, Terrorism, Corruption can never have a final solution
Young girls in brothels look for an illusive haven
Mothers of the martyrs of the battlefield long for their early return………
Failing to realise that it is all a distant mirage
Amidst the atmosphere of sheer pessimism,
The cathartic flow of words can only offer an ephemeral respite
As rays of sunshine in the chillest land
As parents expecting their progeny to return from the strangest seas
Making me ponder-
Is hope really the thing with feathers in one’s soul? Is it actually a waking dream?
[Reference to- “Hope is the thing with feathers” (Poem by Emily Dickinson) and “Hope is a waking dream”- Quote by Aristotle]
