Voices Of The Heart, Emmenay [best management books of all time .TXT] 📗

/> Nothing is mine, aught is naught,
I was better off when I didn't come here,
Does it matter if I am remembered or not?
This was added more than four years later:
To live for others is the greatest good,
Which I found out after years had passed,
And to make our loved ones happy, carefree,
Is all that matters for now, for good.

(13) A ROBOT’S SONG

The sun descends and the day blackens,
Like the last scene of a disturbed dream,
Fading away into eternity.
No birds flutter in this dreary land,
Yet we stay on, like robots,
Programmed to function,
Performing our tasks with mechanical humdrum;
Devoid of peace of mind and rest of body,
It is no longer "to be or not to be"
There is something wrong, somewhere,
Either with you or with me.

(14) A STRANGE EXPERIENCE

From the sea, where fishermen dance,
After returning with their catch,
I heard a voice from the unseen say,
Heed your heart's call and then pray.
Pray for the downtrodden and the meek,
Pray that the strong don't mistreat,
The weak and the poor of your Lord's world,
Pray and pray, and nightly vigils keep.
Then I was shook by a mighty wave,
Its waters encircled me round my waist,
I woke up to the signs of warning and
Ran on and on in an attempt to flee.
Why do these spells come and seize me,
Why am I entranced by mystery,
Why do unknown forces of Nature,
Reveal much of the unseen world to me?
Answers? From whom should I seek,
Is there somebody who will help,
Someone, who will feel all that I feel,
And come up with shelter and safety?

(15) AFTERTHOUGHTS

At times there's no respite from pain:
Seeing truculent men, meretricious women,
Talking incessantly on diverse subjects,
Without wisdom, without an aim...
Moments of leisure, like a puff,
Drawn from a filtered fag;
Are brief, smoky and short-lived,
After the first, sharp drag...
Manic depictions all around,
This civilisation disintegrates,
Virtues and morals gasping for life,
Without a sigh or a sound.
Caesar bled for some like me,
Brutus' sword killed him too,
While Calpurnia* and Portia*,
For their men gave up the world.
Spartacus*, Demosthenes*,
The Queen of Scots* and Saint Joan*,
Symbols of silent valour,
And unblemished selflessness.
The rulers of the present world,
Talk of a New World Order,
Making many like me sad,
At their suave hypocricy.
A General with legions stays on,
Defiantly clinging to power,
While thousands have died for a cause,
At a mosque for someone's vow.
I see no end to the insanity,
Of powerful warmongers,
As my imagination reveals more,
Of a vain world gone crazy.

*The names mentioned in this poem are of men and women who are famous in Greek, Roman and English history.

(16) ALL MEN ARE EQUAL?

Classes of people:
Classes in airplanes;
Classes in cinema halls;
And classes in trains.
Yet the slogan is:
All men are equal.
A small Afghan girl,
Sells burgers, earns rupees,
She is a refugee,
Whom should she trust?
People are enjoying,
Vacation and holidays,
Giving money and spending,
on breezy hill stations.
All men are equal!
Sounds good to the ear,
And pleasing to the eyes,
But, are all equal?
The Afghan girl replied:
"My burgers, they are swell.”

(17) AN AFGHAN GIRL’S QUESTIONS

I met the little Afghan girl again,
The girl who sells burgers and tea,
Saddened and pale she appeared,
High on the hilltop of Murree.
Why are they out to attack us, she asked,
Why do the Americans blame only us,
We, who have been driven from our homes,
What more does the world want from us?
I looked around the hills around,
I stared at the valleys down below,
This little refugee in her helpless way,
Was seeking answers from all those around.
Tell me sir, the child questioned,
By attacking us, will justice be done?
Is this the way that God's law works,
Are the mighty created to oppress some?
The Twin Towers that came crashing down,
The little girl knew nothing of them,
She only knew she had burgers and tea,
How can her likes cause terror, mayhem?

(18) AN ALIEN TO MYSELF

The noises in the street outside,
Intensify my sadness...
Why am I alien to myself?
Perhaps the humming stillness within,
May share the secret,
Someday.

(19) ANGUISH

Disturb me, disturb me all of you,
Is there anything else you can do,
Besides creating chaos and confusion,
Besides disturbing what can you do.
Keep on with your ways, and one day,
You will learn the folly when I am away,
Your face will then be full of tears,
That will roll down from eyes, astray.
The darkness tries to ease my worry,
The silence seeks to shield anxiety,
The pills -- they try to make me sleepy,
But your annoyance: how it jolts me.
You ask the stars above and find,
What a man faces in his daily grind,
You sit up one night and chat with the moon,
Then perhaps you will realise my gloom.
It's for your sake I toil endlessly,
Keeping the quiet night for company,
But even after the midnight hours,
All that you can do is come and annoy me.

(20) ANOTHER DAY

Another April day,
Toiling for a living,
In a city where,
Uncertainty thrives.
Clean water is scarce,
Bread is costlier,
People's sufferings,
Make them prefer death.
There's little peace,
In this country,
Even though some claim:
"It's democracy".
Power breakdowns,
Costly fuel,
Hospitals overfilled,
With deathly smell.
In such circumstances,
Some souls, like me,
Still cling to,
Virtues, honesty.
Shouldn't we go away,
To a better place,
Where life is still sacred,
Where people do matter?
I see my motherland,
Being denuded and raped,
While I am helpless,
And have to withstand -
All the ugliness,
Of dishonest charlatans,
Who come into power,
And become Satans.
Is this the vision,
Of Allama Iqbal?*
No, it can't be,
No, not at all.

* Allama Iqbal is a well known Urdu poet who conceived the idea of Pakistan in the 1930s.

(21) SOLILOQUY

Damp and dull,
Depressing weather,
Even though the T.V's on.
Where to go?
Where are all my friends?
What's wrong O dejected heart?
Doors, windows,
Closed, and the curtains,
Are drawn over tainted rooms.
Suddenly,
Everything is black,
Power failure adds to gloom.
I seek souls,
Who can understand,
What brightens up cold winters.
Cups of tea,
And some cheerful talk -
- But muezzins don't agree:
"Come to mosques",
The azaans are loud,
Let me warm myself awhile...
Let me drift,
Into dreamy worlds,
Where nobody fears Hell-fire.
There's no love,
In the hearts of some
Women -- they are feelingless.
They want guys,
Who can chat and flirt,
Take them on a shopping spree.
SMS,
And the World Wide Web,
And dancing to drugged music...
Arm in arm,
They seek pleasure and
Instant gratification.
Old fashioned,
I can't satisfy,
Their ultra-modern cravings.
Let me be,
O my wounded heart,
This is not what the soul needs.
Let me be,
Wrapped in a blanket,
Hidden from a dreary world.

(22) ANSWER ME

I am sending a question to my Creator,
Perhaps, He will answer, with a revelation,
What more should I do? How many more a favour,
To end these years of extreme persecution?
It is Ramadan, the month of peace, blessings,
At such a time why am I enduring,
The cruelty being inflicted ceaselessly,
What else must I do to besides supplicating?
The world outside is seething with torment,
The ungodly tyrants are killing the innocent,
These warlords, these sons of Satan,
Want the rule of Lucifer, that is their plan.
In my home, where I come for peace of mind,
Rest, relaxation and some caring time,
There is this soul who hurts me the most,
Will my Creator not look on me and be kind?

(23) ANYBODY, PLEASE?

I look at the souls that are seeking peace,
I know not why God prefers to be silent,
I watch the nightbird, how it shrieks with a shrill,
Perhaps this is a reply of the Divine Will.
I look at a little girl who says she is hungry,
She comes and begs for an Iftaari,
Oh my Great Lord, I thank You for the favour,
It is through me that You do what You will.
I wonder why somebody has lost a father,
The pain of losing him is visibly greater,
On the contours and features of the smiling face,
How artfully is pain hidden beneath disguised grace!
Is it right for me to wander off like Siddharth,
To seek real peace in caves by running away,
Or is it better to stay on in this hearth,
And do everything that through me He fulfils.
The hours are passing by, so tells the clock,
Why should I care or wander off with the flock,
Let my Good Lord do what He deems best,
Let me forget I exist and take some rest.

(24) ARE WE LIVING?

Minds, greedily growling,
Hearts, like petrified stones;
Desire hungrily seeking,
More, more and more.
Platter after platter,
On the table of disaster,
These folks are always starved:
For them it doesn't matter,
The beings have to be carved.
Is this our living?
Is anybody out there,
Without endless desire,
Without undying craving?
Jesus the Messiah said,
When temptation shone,
That Man doth not live,
by bread alone.
We have pot bellies,
But, are we living,
For bread alone?

(25) A MYSTERY

The way your eyes show surprise:
Whenever you look at me,
Perhaps you haven't ever seen,
A calm sea, in your life.
Yes, I am mysterious,
As secretive as the night.
The wolves and the vampires,
Are scared of my presence,
The creatures of the underworld,
Appear in my absence.
Outwardly I am quiet,
Inwardly a marvel:
Of a strange, strange world,
You haven't explored.

(26) BACK TO THE OLD PLACE

Back to the old place again,
Where silent walls stare,
Like faces that have,
Since long forgotten my name.
Shadows emerge on the dust,
Like footprints of time,
Tiptoeing their way,
Like they must.
Oh that I had not been,
To be loved and remembered,
And then to be archived,
In time's hallmark of fame.

(27) BE?
Green, yellow, brown,
Colours and life,
And a void above,
Leave me wondering,
What? When? Why and how?

(28) BEAUTIFUL?

'She' wants to be beautiful,
And sets about to be so:
Cuts her hair and dyes them,
Paints her face with different creams,
And wears masks,
In an effort to hide her self.
Reddens her lips,
Trims her lashes, colours them, and smiles;
Totally pleased with her own reflection.
Slips herself into slippery apparel,
Revealing what she is, inside and out.
Abandons her feet to high-heeled shoes,
That shake her hips and rock her steps.
Goes to a party and enjoys to the full,
The company of others, like her.
Laughs and smiles seductively,
At all -- all strange looking men.
Seen at her enticing best:
Is she what she set out to be -- Beautiful?

(29) BEFORE THE STORM

Clouds gather,
Dark and foreboding,
A tumultuous today.
Melancholia,
Looms above,
Very few agree with me.
Why not wait,
For Nature to strike,
And cleanse all the pollution.
I look calm,
Just like the harsh storm,
Waiting to lash at the city.
Who is there,
To prevent us both,
Who wants to be sincere?

(30) BEWARE OF THE IMPOSTOR

Beware! O people of the world,
The one-eyed Impostor has come,
The anti-Christ with his own laws,
to misrepresent