Unbroken

It hurts right now
But it won’t hurt forever.
To carry your broken heart within a broken body that can take no more;
It can still be done.
It still can,
even though you’re hurting beyond measure.

Tough times must come upon them;
Those life seeks to toughen,
beyond the ordinary.

Aye! building upwards atop the ashes of your past;
It’s gut wrenching, cruel, painful nigh fanatical, maddening et all..
As many emotions summed up into the lonely struggle tall.
Yet,
Believing it can be done
It can be done.
It can be done.

Ours is to build anew every time it comes crumbling down.

It can be done.
It can be done.

And his is to test; if broken we stay or unbroken we become.

It can be done.
It can be done.

No matter how great the fall,
Ye must heed the call;
Of his voice, awake, deep within.

It can be done.
It can be done.

He who looks into the scarred, horrible face of his reality and knuckles up..
Unperturbed. Yet again,
for another fight.

It can be done.
It can be done.

Battered and Beaten to the ground he falls,
Fallen but undefeated, to the sky he’ll rise again.

He’ll take the heaven by storm,
if he survives;

It can be done.
It can be done.

Oh! he’ll burn down the proud pillars of the lofty heavens above..
With his wrath Alone!

Beware if he survives,
Ye naysayers and unbelievers.

It can be done.
It can be done.

He’ll bend time itself;
And rein in the directions from as far out, as they reach.
A fine line between mortal and immortal, his glory shall breach.

It can be done.
It can be done.

If ye can keep him down,
Never let him up..

Only ye can’t.

If ye can drive a knife through his heart
and pray it kills him..

Only it won’t.

If ye can run for your life sooner than
ye realise, he shall not yield..

He might spare your life for servitude,
when his world is his;
And he has conquered all there was
in it,
to conquer.

He’ll slay all his foes,
Settle all scores to close.
Settle his debts, pay his dues.
As he walks up there,
Where he always belonged.
And he takes what is his
and rights all the wrongs.

Unbroken is he.
Glorious be his reign.
Unbroken Is he.
He befriended his pain.
Unbroken is he.
The gods bow down to his greatness.

He conquered the world.
And everything in it.
He conquered his fears and all the demons within..

Because it can be done.

© Jay Kaushal

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What if this is all there is?

What if this,
is all there is?
What if this..
is as good as it gets?
What if this is
as far, you were
meant to be;
And everything
that you ever
dreamed about
for the future,
were memories;
Being carried on
from a past life.
A past where,
you had it all.
A life where,
you made it all.
And yet you still,
wiped that slate..
clean;
Just for this!
Maybe you had
everything.
Everything,
but happiness.
Everything,
but satisfaction.
Just an empty,
dark void..
That you could
never manage to fill.
Maybe the purpose
of all your sorrows,
all your struggles,
all your happiness,
and all your
experiences;
Was to bring you..
Here.
Here,
in this present;
That you
so carelessly
discount for
being a lot less,
than it is.
This present,
that you never
fully learned to
appreciate; Because
you were always
too fixated about
filling that void.
The void that
cannot be fulfilled.
The void that robs you
of the present,
that is the present;
While keeping you chasing.
While keeping you running
after uncertain tomorrows,
as all your todays
Have come and gone.
Each one of them
having failed,
to satisfy you.
Wouldn’t you regret
not enjoying this,
a lot more?
Wouldn’t you regret
not living; while
you could have..
If you realise,
At the end
Of it all..
This,
was the best
you could have ever had?

© Jay Kaushal

Photo by Jay Kaushal

A Walk In The Park

Your fixation with
Getting ‘there’..
Is what’s keeping you
From enjoying
Where you are.
It’s what’s keeping you
From finding joy,
Doing what you do.
Reaching your goals,
Happens automatically.
It happens effortlessly,
Once you begin
To savour
The long walk…
Leading you there.

Photo & Poem: © Jay Kaushal

Photo-poem ‘Slow’

In our sincerest efforts to make society run faster and better, look how it all became incredibly…

I wonder how..

Everywhere I look,

Everyone I see,

All of them so tense;

Scurrying past me.

I wonder how..

That we’re all,

Always

In such a hurry;

Reaching places,

We’ll never get on time.

Photo & Poem: © Jay Kaushal

New poems Wednesday & Sunday.

Photo-poem ‘Beehive’

All that big talk about evolution and superiority; Yet slaved and spent, worker bees all return… to the beehive! © Jay Kaushal

Photo & Poem by Jay Kaushal.

Photo location: West Delhi

© Jay Kaushal

New poems every Wednesday & Sunday.

Escape..

…Is temporary gratification for the uninitiated seeker of self realisation.

…Is temporary gratification for the uninitiated seeker of self realisation.

It’s the first reflex. The first instinct.

A nagging feeling of not ‘fitting in.’ And a realisation that you never ever.. Will.

It’s elusive and misleading.

‘Escape’ isn’t real.

Just a distorted reality of a convenient inability to reconcile with the truth that…

True progress is made, moving deeper and deeper into oneself.

Everything outside, is, was and shall remain..transient.

Everything inside, began dying the moment you were born.

Between the two… rests the undying, uncontained, uncorrupted fragment of life…

Silently watching your shenanigans in amusement.

©Jay Kaushal

New poems Wednesday and Sunday.