Abhijit Naskar's Blog - Posts Tagged "martyr"

Bid me goodbye o mother,
Be right back once I plant unity.
If I do not return from my journey,
Soothe yourself knowing I've died happily.
These rusted shackles hurt too much,
It's time o mother to abolish them forever.
Shoulder to shoulder your children will walk,
At the sight of our conviction bigots will quiver.
The sacred river of life has long gone dry,
I'll resuscitate it with my blood and integrity.
Your children are my family o mother,
With my last breath I will fortify their destiny.
Bless me o mother of all for my mission awaits.
I'll return victorious or die a martyr's death.

We don't want your celebration,
We don't want you to honor us.
All we want is for you to grow up,
And end all tribalism that kills us.
A thousand holidays can't bring us back,
Nor can they wipe the tears of our spouses.
How will you console our children,
How will you comfort our broken parents!
Enough with your flowers and rituals,
Enough with your crocodile care!
If you have an iota of humanity,
Step up and make all divides disappear.
Yet if you still want to live life as tribal,
Rest assured we'll give ours with a smile.

Rise or fall doesn’t matter,
If you’ve helped a few people.
Live or die doesn’t matter,
If you’ve helped a few people.
The point of life is not to live,
Any more than it is to just eat.
The point of life is to lift lives,
In their smile is victory, in tears defeat.
To win over enemies is ridiculously easy,
To win over hearts is the real act of valor.
Muscles wither, clothes get torn to pieces,
Valor and virtue can’t be bound by no graveyard.
Graves are for animals and gutter-crawling worms.
Helpers get forever etched upon the fabric of stars.

Give me a spark of your nerves,
I’ll turn it into thunder strike.
Give me a tremor of your lips,
I’ll turn it into landslide.
Give me a teardrop of your eyes,
I’ll turn it into tsunami.
Give me the sweat of your labor,
I’ll turn it into hydroelectricity.
Give me a beat of your heart,
I’ll turn it into an earthquake.
Give me a touch of your fingers,
I’ll turn it into society’s duct tape.
Ingredients of reform are born of your veins.
Renounce your apathy and reform will rain.

This is my decree to my soldiers of the future,
Refrain from raising my giant lifeless structures!
Use the funds to build schools and hospitals instead,
Providing free/affordable education and healthcare.

Keep me alive in your heart, not in dead statues,
each one taller and more extravagant than the other,
Just so self-absorbed snobs could take the perfect selfie,
to declare an empty alliance with humanitarian behavior.

If you must have symbollic momentos of me around,
Keep them personal, humble and utterly non-extravagant.
Always remember, I am honored with your acts of love,
not with your thousand feet statues and chants unsapient.

It’s a sad state of affairs, when virtues
gather moss upon the monuments of hypocrisy.
Break your trance of totem poles,
be the freedom you are meant to be!

You only see the light of the sun,
But not the combustion agony.
You only see the act of creation,
But not the pain of creativity.
You only see the light of genius,
But not the price of genius.
You only see the flight of triumph,
But not the tragedies one has to cross.
You are replenished by the monsoon rain,
You got no clue ‘bout the burden of the cloud.
You only see the glamor of my victory,
Not the heartbreaks I don’t scream out loud.
Everybody wants to shine, that is no glory.
Only those with character can bear combustion agony.

“The world is swarming with snakes,
In your soul brews the antidote.
Churn your doubts, burn your dread,
One gentle gaze sanitizes the cosmos.”

“They ask me, why aren’t you still properly known in the mainstream! Well, the Himalayas have been standing for 40 million years, yet it’s only in the last century that humans first climbed Everest. They are oblivious of me, because once you get addicted to the transcendental terrains of the Himalayas, all your superficial little molehills will crumble to dust.”

You are the sum of all science,
You are the life of all poetry.
You are the end to animosity,
You are the answer to conspiracy.

World’s light comes from your light,
It comes from the sacrifice of the few.
If these few ever became selfish,
Whole world would drown in dwindling dew.

You are the miracle you seek in church,
You are the gospel you seek in bible.
You are the reason behind civilization,
You are the mutation out of the jungle.

I don’t do anything for reward,
I do everything as a record,
a record of conviction –
a record of resilience –
a record of thunder –
a record of sentience.

My life is a repository
of what is possible if you put
your petty tribalisms aside.
I leave this repository
in your capable hands –
draw from it as you will –
put it to use as you deem fit.

I’m not here to comfort you,
I’m here to make you restless.
I’m not here to enlighten you,
I’m here to destroy you peaceless.

When one Naskar dies,
a thousand Naskars will rise.
The duties of Naskar are too heavy
for self-coddling cowards to carry.

That’s why, I’m here to destroy you,
your last ounce of self care and peace.
Doing what you need to sustain yourself is
one thing, but to obsess over it is cowardice.

I got no business with such cowardly insects,
who try to hide pettiness with perfectionism.
Give me ten messy vessels restless for purpose,
I shall give the world 10,000 years of ascension.