Abhijit Naskar's Blog, page 23
August 26, 2024
Brain, Heart and Empty Pocket (Hopeless Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
Hope is rather important to me, so much so,
I even named a title Esperanza Impossible.
But my hope is not that of wishful inaction,
my hope is a furnace of valiance untamable.
It’s more important to be the hope and help,
than have the hope that help is on the way.
No one is too helpless to lift themselves,
all you need is a purpose to define your way.
If this son of a factory worker could conquer
the world with brain, heart and empty pocket,
why do you succumb to fictitious despair,
the greatest hopes are always hopeless!
Rise, revolt and be the hope,
take no defeat as your destiny.
Till your world bathes in your light,
be the hopeless warrior of incorruptibility.
I even named a title Esperanza Impossible.
But my hope is not that of wishful inaction,
my hope is a furnace of valiance untamable.
It’s more important to be the hope and help,
than have the hope that help is on the way.
No one is too helpless to lift themselves,
all you need is a purpose to define your way.
If this son of a factory worker could conquer
the world with brain, heart and empty pocket,
why do you succumb to fictitious despair,
the greatest hopes are always hopeless!
Rise, revolt and be the hope,
take no defeat as your destiny.
Till your world bathes in your light,
be the hopeless warrior of incorruptibility.
August 24, 2024
When Calls The Divine (The Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
Catholics say, anglicans ain’t real christians.
Jews say, christians ain’t the chosen people.
Hindus say, even a muslim’s shadow ruins faith.
Muslims say, every non-muslim is an infidel.
Everybody thinks they’re the chosen ones,
and everybody else is living in sin.
Only the brand of the bottle changes,
not the prejudice and bigotry within.
None of us are the chosen people,
We are all just people – period.
We choose what we become or not,
We are the weavers of our world.
I have a strange affinity to divinity,
but not to any kiosk selling capsules.
I’m drawn to the force beyond the fables,
nowhere but in human living holiness brews.
Jews say, christians ain’t the chosen people.
Hindus say, even a muslim’s shadow ruins faith.
Muslims say, every non-muslim is an infidel.
Everybody thinks they’re the chosen ones,
and everybody else is living in sin.
Only the brand of the bottle changes,
not the prejudice and bigotry within.
None of us are the chosen people,
We are all just people – period.
We choose what we become or not,
We are the weavers of our world.
I have a strange affinity to divinity,
but not to any kiosk selling capsules.
I’m drawn to the force beyond the fables,
nowhere but in human living holiness brews.
August 21, 2024
Blood and Blunder (The Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
The world is filled with atrocious holidays,
Columbus Day, Australia Day and Thanksgiving.
Holidays steeped in blood and blunder, are
passed on proudly as occasion of merrymaking.
Imagine celebrating 9/11 as a day of freedom,
Yet colonizers do exactly that without shame.
And these animal holidays are a thousand times
more atrocious than the crash of nine eleven.
Nine eleven is a ghastly stain upon history,
there is no doubt or question about that.
But what about the infinitely larger stains,
inflicted, respected and celebrated by cowards!
Human rights can never prevail till we
dismantle every false celebration.
Animals find honor in blood and blunder,
We become human through course correction.
Columbus Day, Australia Day and Thanksgiving.
Holidays steeped in blood and blunder, are
passed on proudly as occasion of merrymaking.
Imagine celebrating 9/11 as a day of freedom,
Yet colonizers do exactly that without shame.
And these animal holidays are a thousand times
more atrocious than the crash of nine eleven.
Nine eleven is a ghastly stain upon history,
there is no doubt or question about that.
But what about the infinitely larger stains,
inflicted, respected and celebrated by cowards!
Human rights can never prevail till we
dismantle every false celebration.
Animals find honor in blood and blunder,
We become human through course correction.
August 19, 2024
My Earth, Your Earth (The Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
My America fosters the
spirit of self-correction,
Your America lies in the
continuation of exploitation.
My England lives in a willful
drive for making amends,
Your England lies in deliberate
denial of historic mess.
My Australia battles to
assimilate those once wronged,
Your Australia boasts proudly
atrocious plunders as tradition.
My India is the most radiant
beacon of multiculturalism,
Your India is a septic tank
of prehistoric nationalism.
I wish I could tell you, you and I
are the same, but we are not.
My earth is a celebration of people,
Your earth is chained to dead customs.
spirit of self-correction,
Your America lies in the
continuation of exploitation.
My England lives in a willful
drive for making amends,
Your England lies in deliberate
denial of historic mess.
My Australia battles to
assimilate those once wronged,
Your Australia boasts proudly
atrocious plunders as tradition.
My India is the most radiant
beacon of multiculturalism,
Your India is a septic tank
of prehistoric nationalism.
I wish I could tell you, you and I
are the same, but we are not.
My earth is a celebration of people,
Your earth is chained to dead customs.
August 17, 2024
Dear John Twitter (Delete Twitter Sonnet – Statement, Aug 2024) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
For a long time I’ve been
backin’ away from twitter,
but I didn’t cut tie completely
hoping that it might get better.
Now that a far right billionaire baboon
has turned it into the internet sewer,
there’s no point to hanging on to filth,
twitter used to be relevant, but no longer.
From time to time, colonial morons try to
bring back the good ol’ days of segregation.
It’s up to the human society to take charge,
and castrate their ambition through isolation.
Quarantine rabid dogs by absolute dissociation,
To entertain filth is to perpetrate uncivilization.
backin’ away from twitter,
but I didn’t cut tie completely
hoping that it might get better.
Now that a far right billionaire baboon
has turned it into the internet sewer,
there’s no point to hanging on to filth,
twitter used to be relevant, but no longer.
From time to time, colonial morons try to
bring back the good ol’ days of segregation.
It’s up to the human society to take charge,
and castrate their ambition through isolation.
Quarantine rabid dogs by absolute dissociation,
To entertain filth is to perpetrate uncivilization.
Missing God Complex (The Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
Usually I write and release one book a month,
But World War Human took me several months.
An accident turned the world upside down for
my family – the fearless legend was briefly lost.
When I wrote, how does the bird come and go, I had
no inkling that it’d come true in a couple of months.
I felt the helplessness of my pathless dropout years,
For the first time in over a decade I felt defeatist.
Month-long grovelling to doctors left me suffering
with inferiority complex, wallowing in self-pity.
For a brief while I was actually rendered useless,
I honestly lost my link with the rest of humanity.
So I did what I hadn’t done in a long time,
I reverted back to my origin of mission.
In his memory I reawakened to my promise,
I got reignited with my natural divine vision.
Finally I reclaimed my innate God complex,
the usual invincibility to outside influence.
I returned to life galvanized a thousand folds,
Tragedy does nothing but amply my omnipotence.
But World War Human took me several months.
An accident turned the world upside down for
my family – the fearless legend was briefly lost.
When I wrote, how does the bird come and go, I had
no inkling that it’d come true in a couple of months.
I felt the helplessness of my pathless dropout years,
For the first time in over a decade I felt defeatist.
Month-long grovelling to doctors left me suffering
with inferiority complex, wallowing in self-pity.
For a brief while I was actually rendered useless,
I honestly lost my link with the rest of humanity.
So I did what I hadn’t done in a long time,
I reverted back to my origin of mission.
In his memory I reawakened to my promise,
I got reignited with my natural divine vision.
Finally I reclaimed my innate God complex,
the usual invincibility to outside influence.
I returned to life galvanized a thousand folds,
Tragedy does nothing but amply my omnipotence.
August 16, 2024
The Humanitarian Nerd (Sonnet 1538) | Abhijit Naskar | World War Human: 100 New Earthling Sonnets
Machines have a tendency of
disconnecting mind from society.
Unless you’re driven by a humane dream,
silicon dreams only facilitate inhumanity.
Worse than silicosis is silicon psychosis,
Worse than septicemia es la indiferencia.
Worse than writer’s block is fighter’s block,
to settle in ice-age is insult of la conciencia.
Before you master raspberry and arduino,
learn to master common everyday humanity.
If you’re not burning with the fire to do good,
there’s no point to your gray’s anatomy.
disconnecting mind from society.
Unless you’re driven by a humane dream,
silicon dreams only facilitate inhumanity.
Worse than silicosis is silicon psychosis,
Worse than septicemia es la indiferencia.
Worse than writer’s block is fighter’s block,
to settle in ice-age is insult of la conciencia.
Before you master raspberry and arduino,
learn to master common everyday humanity.
If you’re not burning with the fire to do good,
there’s no point to your gray’s anatomy.
Labor of AI (The Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | The Divine Refugee
Asking AI to help you
write, is not writing.
Asking AI to tune your
voice, is not singing.
Asking AI to help you
paint, is not painting.
Asking AI to help you
code, is not coding.
Asking AI to help you
create, is not creativity.
Asking AI to build your
dream, is not dreaming.
Asking AI to narrate
books, is not storytelling.
AI oughta do manual labor,
so humans can do the creating.
write, is not writing.
Asking AI to tune your
voice, is not singing.
Asking AI to help you
paint, is not painting.
Asking AI to help you
code, is not coding.
Asking AI to help you
create, is not creativity.
Asking AI to build your
dream, is not dreaming.
Asking AI to narrate
books, is not storytelling.
AI oughta do manual labor,
so humans can do the creating.
August 15, 2024
Ban Bombs, Not Books | Abhijit Naskar | World War Human: 100 New Earthling Sonnets
Peace is a crime against state, that’s
why patriotism is a glorified quality.
More patriotic the citizens of a nation,
less likely they’ll question warmongery.
Question hate, not harmony.
Ban bombs, not books.
Doubt borders, not benevolence.
Chain the worms, not wombs.
why patriotism is a glorified quality.
More patriotic the citizens of a nation,
less likely they’ll question warmongery.
Question hate, not harmony.
Ban bombs, not books.
Doubt borders, not benevolence.
Chain the worms, not wombs.
August 14, 2024
Illumination Manifest (Youth Sonnet, 1528) | Abhijit Naskar | World War Human: 100 New Earthling Sonnets
Youth are the cure
for all dividing insanity.
You are the antidote
to all bewitching animosity.
Don’t confuse youth as a measure
of agist conventionality.
Youth is but a sanctifying dawn,
out of the dusk of rigidity.
Youth is the spirit of play
with the forces of ominosity.
Youth is the conquest of death
into the daring pastures of duty.
Youth are absolution to habits of death.
Youth are walking illumination manifest.
for all dividing insanity.
You are the antidote
to all bewitching animosity.
Don’t confuse youth as a measure
of agist conventionality.
Youth is but a sanctifying dawn,
out of the dusk of rigidity.
Youth is the spirit of play
with the forces of ominosity.
Youth is the conquest of death
into the daring pastures of duty.
Youth are absolution to habits of death.
Youth are walking illumination manifest.
