DREAM

I have a dream
Though what it is I haven’t realized
I live my life in its pursuit
What you shall call the pursuit by a blind
What I shall call the pursuit in darkness
Because when light will fall
It would be my rebirth
Life demands meaning till then
Blind are those
Who cannot fight for a dream
Those who don’t dream
Are the blindfolded
Who have to reach the destination
Without knowing the way
Who have to find the way
Without  the sense of light
So is dreaming a way to escape from the world?
Is dreaming a way to see with a blindfold?
Because who knows what you are meant to do
And what you dream to do
Who knows  if dreams are just an illusion?
And its not an absurdist’s allusion
And as some poet had said
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams
 no mortal ever dared to dream before
I would say the poet would have
 stood peering deep into the darkness
because its not dreams that guide us
its our actions that shall always speak out loud
so let me grow vision instead of dreams
because dreamer is a loner
because dreamer
shall always remain to be a loner

What's reality?

This is going to be short. Well maybe you can say that it is an effect of literature over me but I really am quite confused about the way authors, filmmakers, playwrights present the world to us. On one hand I read Eugene Ionesco's The Lesson today (Eugene Ionesco is an absurd playwright. Check wiki definition of theatre of absurd) and as many of the absurd playwrights present that there is always chaos in the world and our existence in it is totally insignificant. On the other hand, we have all those indian movies and the major lot of novels we get where after all the turmoil, peace and happiness is restored and accept the antagonist (or in some cases even including him), everyone is happy. Then there are the flat good characters ending up into sadness at the end into many great works like Antonio in Merchant of Venice (yeah, mam discussed it in class) by William Shakespeare and the samurai in The Seven Samurai by Akira Kurosawa which is as I would say, a diplomatic way out of the previous two options.
So what exactly is reality? The one presented by most of the people? The one presented by Eugene Ionesco? The one presented by William Shakespeare and Akira Kurosawa? Or the one presented by Shahrukh Khan, "agar ending happy nahi hai to picture abhi baaki hai mere dost" type?
Maybe poets have gone a step ahead of all other forms of literature or maybe they have skipped this indispensible step the same way I did while writing some of my poems?
We need to know what world do we all live in before demanding for another one which is absolute rather than being relative in all respects.
Stuck deep into thoughts, signing off from my way out of reality.

P.S. Sorry it got a bit long especially after the starting note of keeping it short. Saving short for the next time.

It is my own land

The future burns in bits

Our depth is not of the oceans

We all belong to the pits

The rich is flying higher

The poor is dying in slum

Heads above us decide the tunes

What song am I supposed to hum?

The sea of jewels

Is even washing away the golden sand

But I am still not leaving it

Because it is my own land.

The peace of white

shall always exist

but between saffron and green

there is a thick layer of mist

when did fights turn into riots

and riots into terrorism

not even the god knows

hatred can breed in diversity

that’s what our history shows

broken seems to be our tricolor band

but I am still not leaving it

because it is my own land.

Everything can be bought these days

Even conscience hangs for sale

Bribery broke into us through many ways

Anti corruption seems to always trail

They say machinery always needs oiling

So whats better than it being organized

Rate boards would soon be put

Soon a subsystem for it will be devised

And we all are lending a helping hand

But I am still not leaving it

Because it is my own land.

What strength of men

What hidden powers

Resources are never short here

To build the highest tower

Of victory in this show off world

Where developing is the tag we get

And we would remain developing

If abroad is where all our people fret

Change shall come from within

And for that we need a magic wand

Till then I am not going to leave it

Because it is my own land.