Man Vs. Machine

Some write along with AI, spitting stories that enchant, 

To know what's human, what's AI, God wisdom to me grant.

The topic is dictated by AI, it also embeds keywords,

That would make it rise in SEO, and be pushed by algos to herds.

Some rise against this fascism, of AI, for AI and by AI,

They poison deliberately their artworks, to stop scraping- an eye for an eye?

They write with humans in mind, who can give a thumbs up or down,

They pamper to the masses, not the classes, but to the AI use they frown.

 

AI has democratized writing, all can now churn sonnets or prose,

The average Joe can play Shakespeare, call by hundred names a rose.

Yet the fragrance is amiss, and the texture all but gone,

To believe that AI art is blasphemy, I hope I'm not alone.

 

You may write for machines, you may write for money, I write for art's sake,

The machine generated content may rhyme, but at the level of soul, ain't it fake?

Conquering The World

Che Guevara T-shirts, anti-establishment mugs,

The youth gravitate to movements, like chipko and free hugs.

They go on to break taboos, create new trends,

As free spirited as Shiva, they society rules bend. 

 

Driving fancy cars, wearing suits and necktie,

The middle age is boring, but foundational I won't lie.

Brick by solid brick, you carve your unique niches,

The Vishnu graces adults, bestows prosperity and riches.

 

With receding hairlines, and donning traditional wear,

The old age is minimalist, simplicity their mantra clear.

Ties are gently severed, that no longer heal or serve,

The isolated Brahmas, peace and silence deserve.

 

I pine once more for wondering eyes, want to like children believe,

Circle those who draped me as they liked, and like Ganesha victorious leave.

Sanitizing My Mind Space

I will not let anyone walk through, my mind with their dirty feet,

So said the great Mahatma, but I forget in the moments of heat.

The snide remark, the offensive comment, become a guest in my mind,

By becoming a prisoner of such hate, to myself I'm not being kind.

 

What consumes your mind, controls your life, is an age old adage,

I need to rise above petty things, need to daily turn a new page.

I can't control how others react, but I can with compassion respond,

Show compassion first towards myself, stop ruminating- move beyond.

 

Not everything deserves a space in my soul, let me fiercely dirt refuse,

Be a gatekeeper par excellence, and ignore slights which are of no use.

Why to burden myself with that, which is not mine to carry,

Let me make room for life to flow- be happy, be merry.

 

Each interaction fills your soul with energy, that can be negative or inspiring,

Choose to absorb that which nourishes you, and excrete the rest by the morning.

On Not Getting The First Prize

It was unfair and biased - the last year's competition,

Our children draw to win trophies, not for art's sake or fun.

We're not allowed to help while drawing, the organizers are strict,

When our child doesn't get the prize, it's our right to feel tricked.

 

Let's impeach the judges, and the organizers who selected them,

Partiality will demotivate children, it's a crime we need to early stem.

They'll be scarred for life, this time let's ensure there's no bias,

Let AI be the judge to make sure, only deserving reach the dais.

 

I've a better idea still, scan the pictures and upload,

Create a secure voting system, and for voting people goad.

Let the residents be the judge, the jury, the executioner,

Lobby hard to get your child votes, let democracy choose the winner.

The organizers and the judges work hard, who are we to question their integrity,

Art judgements are always subjective, even if you don't agree, show some dignity.

Opening Up

I'm tangled within myself, too proud and vain,

Shy away from kind people, who've helped me again and again.

To realize I've been vulnerable, was in the need of help and care,

Is something I push under the carpet - I'm self-made, to be fair!

 

That illusion of self sufficiency, is daily taken to task,

A forest of humans support me, I rise from their ashes if you ask.

A bit of my parents died daily, as they gave me wings and sacrificed,

I've received gifts over the years, from the common man to the Christ.

 

The only way to honor such presents, is to become a gift yourself,

Give freely of your time and attention, go out of the way to others help. 

You accepted the gift with humility, now it's time to pay it forward,

Let your ego die, be born in others, don't be attached or a coward.

 

The purpose of life is not to be self-contained, it's to be useful, to touch a life gently,

The seed must break, receive gifts from soil, and by becoming a tree share it's shade evenly.

Ganpati Preparations

Dhol Tasha or DJ, how to bring Bappa home?

Shall we allow Bollywood numbers, or play bhajans alone.

Mandate traditional wear, discourage those from elsewhere,

Will Bappa be that nit picky, does he about your dress care?

  

Fashion shows we banned last time, this time it'll be tambola,

Why teach our children to gamble, or dance on songs like Oh La La.

They may do it on Janmashtami, on Holi its by design,

Just spare our Ganeshotsav, don't our festival malign.

 

Ganesh Festival is for everybody, its a reason to unite, 

Let's not subtly exclude others; in the name of tradition divide.

Those who are dancing in joy, please don't paint as anti social guys,

By policing culturally and morally, we are just weakening our ties.

 

Celebrate with joy, celebrate without misgivings toward the other,  

Bappa won't care less, as long as you have devotion in your heart brother.  

 

The Man in the Mirror

When I look into the mirror, I want to see someone healthy and fit,

What I believe deeply or dream about, the mirror doesn't care a bit.

It bluntly reveals my lifestyle, that I'm not in control of my diet,

That I'm pot-bellied and diabetic, is not the mirror's, but my plight.

 

When I look into the mirror, I want to see myself happy and smiling,

It asks me if in my relationships, I'm committed or just time whiling.

There's no hiding from the mirror, as to where I spend my energy and time,

Deeply connect with loved ones, friends, or get seduced by work in my prime.

 

When I look into the mirror, I'd expect a man of integrity,

I see some cracks appearing, can't now unsee it, what a pity.

The mirror won't discount, even if it was due to a slippery slope,

Its whole existence geared to show, that you're not holier than the pope.  

  

That I look into the mirror, is proof enough that I want to change,

Accepting my reality was the hard part, now transformation is within range.

About Me

Born in Kota, the educational hub,

Got selected in JEE, earning my place in the club.

Stamped as an IITian, I got freedom and latitude,

To experiment with my career - have a devil may care attitude.

 

Reading Fromm in college - 'The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness',

Left a lasting impression, what good and bad we humans possess.

Started a lifelong romance with psych, how I can learn it and apply,

First blogging, then solo sessions, finally entrepreneurship I did try.

 

The path had many detours, the CS degree a temptress,

Psychology may heal the soul, but you earn well in IT, to confess.

The tradeoff was stark, between impact and livelihood,

Now when I am a poet and have neither, the psych choice seems good.

 

Programming paid my bills earlier, it's psychology that supports me now,

It's yet to be seen in future, whether poetry will my daily bread allow!

Why I Write?

I write because I can make words dance, on tunes that are faint, unheard,

I have delusions that generations to come, will croon on my every word.

They'll dissect me bare and try to discern, what I meant with that play of words,

How my themes blended the vastness of the sky, with the misery of the caged birds.

 

I write because I get goosebumps, on coming up with a turn of phrase,

While drowning in the word salad, can pierce to the heart of the maze.

Enthralled by the beauty that words can paint, that silences but reinforce,

I make art daily as a duty to the world, as a therapy I wholeheartedly endorse.

 

I write because I can throw a light, and hold a mirror to the times,

Cut to the chase like no one can, though there will always be poets a dime.

Reveal not the specifics of this milieu, but what is enduring and surely true of ages,

Of how since the time immemorial, we have been singing of the skies from our cages.

 

I write because I can create magic, make you new possibilities see,

Spark a revolution, dismantle the cage, and set the birds free.

Celebrating Independence

The Independence day celebrations, start several days in advance,

With freedom sales round the corner, we make meticulous shopping plans.

The mouse with the creaky wheel, has to wait till mid August,

When it rains new launches and discounts, it'll surely quench our thirst.

 

The years since independence, is so easy to recall,

Your food delivery app is offering, discounts of Rs 79 on all.

Not to be left behind, is your favorite OTT platform,

You can stream for free all day, and keep your patriotism warm.

 

The celebrations get doubly blessed, if it's a long weekend,

You can travel abroad or discover India, and party to no end.

 It's sad to see how we get defined, in purely economic terms,

And our nationalistic feeling we mortgage, to these corporate firms.

 

This day is not about offers, holidays or good deals,

It's about the Op Sindoor heroes, and to thank those Men of Steel. 

The Rubber Duck Phenomena

The problem is real, let me make a plan,

Prioritize what to do, as it's in my control and span.

Let me seek more info, negotiate a deal,

Talking to a rubber duck, I'll soon the solution feel.

 

The anguish is acute, I'm stressed and blue,

I need to be more present, see the world anew.

Reframe the situation, see the glass as half full,

Talking to the rubber duck, will from the nadir pull. 

 

The situation is chronic, I need to find meaning in my pain,

Resort to spirituality and faith, bond with others under strain.

I can view the experience, as a learning opportunity,

Talk to the rubber duck, thanking her for the community.

 

Chatting with the rubber duck, heals my head and heart,

Active listening is passe, imaginary dialogue the real art.

Friends, Perchance?

Some friendships are born, from the vagaries of time and fate,

You are allotted the same hostel, or live behind the same society gate.

The more time you spend with each other, be it school or neighborhood, 

The early shared moments ensure, your bond deepens for the good. 

 

Sharing time and space is easy, but then life intervenes,

You move to different cities, events happen behind-the-scenes.

While the chemistry is strong, you've to put efforts to be connected,

Or else the withering of the bond, is only to be expected. 

  

Friendships are not fragile, but they need rituals to sustain,

If you don't connect often, how will you share the others pain?

At work, take lunch with your friends, or go on a chai break,

Have breakfast every Saturday, and daily walks in your schedule bake.

 

Friendships may start with God's blessings, it's up to us to make them last,

So pick up the phone and call your pals, rekindle memories from the past.