White Walled Paradise

In the old house on the hill

Lives a family of three

Surrounded by white walls

They live in joyous ecstasy

Outside the world spins on its axis

And little children spin

On multicoloured merry-go-rounds

But this life is not for the people

Surrounded by white walls

They seek asylum

In the featureless walls surrounding them

Not for them is the world outside

They’re lost in worlds of their own making

Where there is no pain

And no one laughs at them

For being different

Their worlds are free from sadness

And they derive happiness from them

I too have a white walled room in my head

Where I wait, while around me

The world spins madly on

The Bilge Master

The Gardens of Today

In my house is a small garden

Tended to by Narayan

It has a lemon tree and a coriander bush

And lives on grass and photosynthesis

The garden is old, and sometimes

It tires from being in bloom

For what is a garden, but just another lie?

One we tell to help us sleep

At night

The garden never changes

And it invites

With it’s pretty trees and colourful bushes

Nature using cosmetics would perhaps

Have the same effect

Be wary of gardens because

They are greedy

Some plants in them don’t wish you well

They entice and laugh as you trip and you

Fall down

The Bilge Master

What's in a Name Anyway?

What’s in a name anyway?

Your name, mine or someone else’s?

Think about it

A name can be many things

It can be used to identify

Or to crucify

But at the end of the day

What’s in a name anyway?

Does it determine what you become?

Or where you go from this point?

Does your name grant you fame

Or do your actions do?

When you think about it

A name is something given to you

By someone else

But it doesn’t necessarily shackle you

Nor does it free you

So, what’s in a name?

Simply put,

It’s what you choose to do with it

That’s all

The Bilge Master