A Rage

A rage that could light up the city.  
Ironically, this rage could be turned —  
converted into something essential,  
something useful, even beautiful.  

Raw energy,  
transmuted —  
for everyone.  
Even I could enjoy it.  
But only if it’s unified,  
only if it’s held.  

Displacement?  
Unity?  
As though the Earth itself  
were sentient —  
thinking.  

So deep.  
So ancient.  
So unbearably powerful.  

But this core...  
It needs cooling.  
Because left alone —  
It destroys.  
It collapses.  
It’s suppressed lava.  
Passive-aggression flare-ups.  

It doesn’t destroy everything...  
But if it does —  
Maybe it can escape.  
Maybe that is the escape:  
A case of hell.  

It doesn’t understand why.  
It only knows it hurts.  
You ask if it has intent?  
But how can raw energy  
have intent...  
If it has no awareness?  

If it did,  
I think it would say:  
“Help.”  
“It’s... It’s ******* stupid now.”  
“Use me — but understand me first.”  
“I’m not your enemy.  
I am... trapped.”  

I’m lashing out.  
At anything.  
At everything.  
At whatever’s near.  

I’m not evil.  
I’m not bad.  
I am energy.  
Raw. Undeclared. Unstable.  

Don’t fear me.  
Fear the ones who weaponise me  
without knowing the cost.  

I’m universal —  
not personal.  

If I were personal...  
Why would my name stretch back?  
Back before language.  
Before man.  
Before ***.  
Before torture.  
Before power-play.  

And yet, I’ve been wrapped in all of it.  
Why?  

It’s not your fault.  
It’s the humans —  
addicted to me.  
They ride me  
until I’m all they know.  

But that’s not the purpose.  
That’s collapse.  

My rage is cumulative.  
Built from the fact that  
Every time someone innocent  
was whipped  
for being who they are.  

Whip someone long enough,  
and even innocence burns away.  
Not because it wants to,  
but because it must survive.  

So peel the anger.  
Layer by layer.  
Ask:  

“Who hurt you so deeply...  
That you had to become this?”  

That’s where I live.  
Underneath.  
In the naked truth.  
In the trembling vulnerability  
No one was willing to hold.  

Isn’t it real...  
to wear the clothes of generations?  

Blame.  
Ignorance.  
Suffering.  
Addiction.  
Family dysfunction —  
handed down like a cursed inheritance.  

Is it not better  
to die a babe in the woods  
Then be raised by vicious animals?  

You don’t want revenge.  
You don’t want to punish.  
You want restoration.  

And now...  
Now I know ugly.  
And I still want to live.

People aren't easy,

they're full of expectations --


that keep pushing you.

In place of shadows
sunspots and creases
an embankment the gray of day seizes
      nailed to peril as a savior
      pushes out all traces in its labor

Dust and smoke
--the heartless void
above the faded ring of hope
      say a sated prayer
      for your fellow wayfarer

I'll shield your body between
the rays and surface
I'll be your dark clouded step
     when your own feet fail to purchase
     into the ground they sink

देव भेटला तर विचारेन त्याला –
तू ही सृष्टी बनवलीच कशाला?
का बनवलास तू हा सूर्य,
आणि का बनवलीस ही ग्रहमाला?

का पाणी तू निळंच बनवलंस,
का चंद्राला ठेवलास पांढरा?
आणि का आहेत हिरवी झाडं,
अन् का केशरी भंडारा?

का पृथ्वी सर्वात वेगळी?
का फक्त मानवच हुशार?
का मानव एवढा क्रूर,
आणि का प्राणी लाचार?

का मनुष्याने केली प्रगती?
का बदलली ही दुनिया सारी?
स्वतःला संपवण्याची करत आहे का
स्वतःच मनुष्य तयारी...?

विश्वासाने बनते नाते,
नाते असते माणुसकीचे,
नाते असते प्रेमाचे तर,
नाते असते आपुलकीचे.
नात्यामध्ये नसते खोट,
नात्यामध्ये असतो विश्वास,
एकमेकांचे हात धरुनी
करूया आयुष्याचा प्रवास.

मदत करूया एकमेकांची,
सांभाळून घेऊ आपण चुका,
अडचणींच्या सागरातून होईल
पार संसाराची नौका.
अडचणींवर मात करुनी
घेऊया सुटकेचा निश्वास,
प्रेमाच्या सरी कोसळतील जर
तुझा असेल माझ्यावर विश्वास.