Eloquence

A writer's quest to find eloquence in writing and life, expressed through an amalgamation of poetry, art, and music ('Melting Art') with Neha Pallod Limaye and Darshana Menon 

Paintings by Neha Pallod Limaye

Eloquence (Song) with Darshana Menon: 

Difference make a Difference?

Gender, ethnicity, religion, preferences
We are identified by generalized references
It's hard to imagine we are one species
When we are constantly judged by differences

Allegiances we love to manufacture
Based on unshakeable beliefs that enrapture
Lines we draw, boundaries we force
Questioners we brand heretics, subject to capture

We carve grooves, we create slots
We starve love, hate calls the shots
We nurture factions, loath to connect dots
We obliterate facts with giant inky blots

We adore privileges, enjoy repression
When it comes to equality, we call it oppression
Divided we stand, fragmented we band
We fight for liberty as masters of indiscretion

We are classified, categorized, labeled at birth
Taught bias, prejudice, and condescending mirth
Of our ego there is no dearth, it adds daily to our girth
Denizens of this earth, what is truly our worth?

Iron Fist

You exult, amidst tumult
Anticipating a gory result
Your random utterings are law
Your captive audience a cult

You connive, cheerfully thrive
In the chaos you craft and drive
Your ego dominates reason
And dampens the will to strive

You pillage, you encage
You force people to wear beige
Sniveling brat or stunted adult
Your disposition hard to gauge

You are idolized, canonized
Your follies are minimized
You fret, fume, manufacture gloom
Your opposers are lobotomized

Championing minions, decreeing opinion
Freedom of speech you pinion
You suffer fools quite gladly
Who bloodily sustain your dominion

You resist, you persist
You rule with an iron fist
Keep applying undue pressure
Expect carpal tunnel in your wrist

You are wrong, you don’t belong
You can decry facts for only so long
You demand respect but command none
One day you will be ambushed by a throng

You are droll, you self-extoll
Your glib tongue ensnares all
But logic demands a change of season
The oppressed will Spring, and you will Fall!

What Floats Your Boat?

You sit in a boat. It is filled with a bunch of positive items that are undeniably yours - happy memories, wondrous moments, encouraging words from teachers and mentors, appreciation from people around you, the quiet, firm, and objective support of your family and friends, and the unconditional love of your child. These keep your boat buoyant.

There is a hydrofoil attached to your boat. It is made up of numerous sources of inspiration, accomplishments, aspirations, creative achievements, learnings, structured thought, and crystal clear perspective. On certain days, the hydrofoil activates and your boat rises above water, speedily headed towards a bright horizon.

You also have a container of fresh water, which has hope, optimism, and determination.

Your boat sits in the ocean. The ocean is made of negative elements – your fears, insecurities, self-doubts, stresses of daily life, betrayal by people you trusted whole-heartedly, unhappy memories, moments you would never want to recall, callous words spoken by close ones, expressions of disapproval from people you look up to, pain caused by the ones you loved because they did not return the kindness you extended them, the hurt you caused your loved ones due to your own insensitive actions, and the shock of dealing with bad outcomes resulting from your good intent. But that’s the ocean. You are in your boat, relaxed and comfortable, and you have fresh water. What’s to worry?

Well, there is a hole in your boat. Every day some water seeps into your boat. You spot it, scoop it up, and throw it out. And everything is fine again. You do this on a daily basis. If you don’t, there’s more water to clear out than you would like. Plus it’s salty water – you cannot drink it. Unfortunately, some people mistake that for fresh water, get used to drinking it, and forget the taste of fresh water.

Occasionally the sun goes behind clouds, and your boat gets hit with storms. The storm scatters your positive items, and it requires some effort gathering them and getting back to your boat. Sometimes the storm is severe, and the boat flips over. But you have the strength to flip it over and the foresight to perform some repairs and expansions so that the boat is more stable go forward.

In your journey, you notice many overturned boats, with people in the process of flipping them over. You also see people who are underwater - some in their boats, others absent their boats. The ones with boats are occasionally able to get back to their boat and make it buoyant again. Some of the ones without boats appear to enjoy being underwater and show no interest in searching for their vessel; some occasionally climb onto your boat and start throwing your positive items out, resulting in your sinking boat and their unavoidable departure; and some appear to be in agony yet weighed down heavily by an invisible force that prevents them from responding to offered assistance, let alone trying to reach for the surface.

And then there are boats that are not even touching water. They are most rare, and something to aspire to.

Negativity appears to be hardwired in the human psyche – it is the emotional equivalent of entropy. Happiness requires conscious effort and housekeeping on a very regular basis, but is totally worth it.

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Positivity is an effort, negativity a breeze
Integrity a burden, disingenuousness a tease
No matter how hard life appears to squeeze
The engine of happiness must never ever seize
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So what floats your boat?

Spectrum Eyes

In supreme nothingness, before time and space
Where concepts and constructs struggled for a place
Lit a spark that spread at a blistering pace
Spawning a cosmic dance of vicious grace

The subatomic froth tingled in anticipation
Of coagulating into building blocks of creation
Energy became matter and matter became batter
That spattered and splattered in an unruly summation

Time and space became entangled
While the electron and photon dangled
Wave and particle distinctions got mangled
As Newtonian and Einsteinian physics wrangled

Stars wielded absolute control over the dusty collection
That clustered and clumped into a planetary selection
Life emerged and crawled, struggled and evolved
Survival was difficult, but a natural predilection

Sentient beings burgeoned from a single cell
Equipped with curiosity and the urge to excel
Unraveled mysteries that were hidden well
By the cosmos, quietly watching their ego swell

Femto-seconds to eons, femto-meters to light years
Unimaginable ranges, unscalable frontiers
Given mankind's limited faculties and lifespan
This vast spectrum is not meant for us, it appears

We are a blip, an off-key note in the cosmic symphony
Possessing a sliver of understanding and oodles of disharmony
Wandering in this celestial labyrinth, inanimate yet alive
Contemplating the result of an infinite mind's epiphany

An anomaly jarringly coarse yet amazingly sublime
A speck of dust in the ever flowing sands of time
Marred by crime on the journey to spiritual prime
Is life on earth a flash of brilliance, or just washable grime?

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Note - The title of this poem comes from a very unlikely source - the lyrics of a shockingly awful song by he-who-shall-not-be-named, who can apparently see with his spectrum eyes.