The Pensive Commuter

Mulling over the thought of thoughts. 

How being introspective and deeply contemplative over life can open you up to a different way of seeing the same things, with vivid, sometimes mortifying realities of the seemingly normal. 

The world empires of old, the ones that conquered lands afar, encouraged and glorified the thinkers. They realized that to bring a unification of their kingdom, singular thoughts for the subjects would be the glue. The glue binding the kingdom into their power-hungry hands. 

And these empires did wonders, effects of which we still live. 

On the extreme contrary, there are empires that think. And that’s all. THEY THINK. Everyone else — shut down. 

They are anti-thinkers and anti-anything that splits the control from their hands. They are the ones who are perverted enough to believe that they can silence the greatest tool God gave to man, which is his ever-expanding mind.

Which explains why these kinds of empires never conquer the world. They dream of “world dominance” but end up getting dominated and humiliated by the world. 

I aspire to be, not a prolific writer, but I wish for my writings to be prolific, and to live on and reach the souls of the ones the words can stir and awaken from the deafening slumber the world lulls them into.

Prologue 

// poetry

Like a spark of thought

Connecting yesteryear to today

Flouting the word on the street,

Trying to carve out my own way.

My footsteps embroidering the road 

The bus and train we hop(e) in;

Can't be just another man emplaced in time

Without purpose, a fish without a fin.

The Creator's magic hovers,

Like an aura manifesting a dream.

My wife and I exploring untamed paths,

Adventurous swerve on a fluffy ice cream.

My Bus toyed around by the Creator,

The Commuter prancing like he's frantically seeking,

Depots at, I must learn piercing lessons,

Amidst the distortion, I must tune in to the Creator speaking.

The world fragmented in spheres,

Some Kingdoms love to hone Prolific Pens,

And then there are some that snuff out Art 

The Mental Autocracy seeks to crack your lens.

Freedom of Expression

Freedom of Free Thought

To think through autocratic chains,

We have tirelessly fought.

Some swaddle the Thinker..

Give Him a comfortable chair..

He writes his melodious frequency of thought,

While the thoughtless Control-freaks glare!

I'm on the Autonomous Train,

Sometimes the Freedom Bus,

Life's to be Living & Lived,

Nothing to pointlessly sprawl and fuss.

Moving my hand,

As the Father guides,

With the stencil of a prolific invisible hand,

Does my imitating hand abide.

Prolific writings,

Prolific Art,

A Masterpiece is a continuous collage,

Today's your day to Start!

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