Supreeth Madduri

The answer to the seemingly never-ending quest for the purpose of life, in its reality, has no purpose as such, except it has.  Inquisitive being that Human is has always tried to pose questions for the things that were seemingly larger than himself. When he did find answers that were apparent, convenient, and limited- but not the truth, he settled. Evolution happened, as it should, so did the further quest in search of the truth, and thus, a philosophy ideated. To make it understandable of where I am heading towards, infamous work of Plato 'The Allegory of the cave'  serves as a substantial analogy that he makes of how the philosopher is like a prisoner who is freed from the cave and comes to understand that the shadows on the wall are not reality at all, for he can perceive the true form of reality rather than the manufactured reality that is the shadows seen by the prisoners. The inmates of this place do not even desire to leave their prison, for they know no better life. T...

ಭಾಷ್ಪಕ್ಕೆ ಭಾವನೆಗಳ ಕೊಟ್ಟವರಾರು? ನೆನಪುಗಳೋ, ಜನರೋ, ಋತುಗಳೋ ಅಥವಾ, ನಡೆದು ಬಂದ ಹಾದಿಯೋ... ಮೈಲಿಗಲ್ಲಿನ ಮೇಲೆ ಹೆಸರು ಬರೆದಾಗಿದೆ ಇನ್ನು ಹಿಂದೆ ತಿರುಗಿ ನೋಡಿದರೆ ನಡೆದು ಬಂದ ಹಾದಿಯ ದೂರ ಮಾತ್ರ ಎದೆಗೆ ಸನಿಹ. ನೆನಪುಗಳಲ್ಲ, ಜನರಲ್ಲ, ಋತುಗಳಲ್ಲ... ಸಾಗುವ ದಾರಿಯಷ್ಟೇ ಭಾಷ್ಪಕ್ಕೆ ಭಾವನೆಗಳನು ತುಂಬುವುದು. ಇಂದಿಗೂ, ಎಂದೆಂದಿಗೂ; ಋಣಿಯಾಗಿರುವುದಷ್ಟೇ ನನ್ನ ಕರ್ತವ್ಯ.

ಯುದ್ಧಭೂಮಿ ಅಲ್ಲದ ಜಾಗ ಹುಡುಕಿದರೂ ಸಿಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. ಗತವು ನೆನೆದಿದೆ- ರಕ್ತದಿಂದ, ಕಷ್ಟದ ಕಣ್ಣೀರಿನಿಂದ. ವಿಸ್ತರಿಸಿದ ರಾಜ್ಯವಲ್ಲ ಸೈನ್ಯದ ಸಂಖ್ಯೆಯಲ್ಲ ರಾಣಿಗೋಸ್ಕರ ಕಟ್ಟಿಸಿದ ಅರಮನೆಗಳಲ್ಲ, ಚರಿತ್ರೆಯ ದೊಡ್ಡತನ. ಕಪ್ಪು ಕೋಣೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಬಿಗಿ ಉಸಿರು ಹಿಡಿದು ಭಯದಿಂದ ಬದುಕಿದ ಜನರೇ ಚರಿತ್ರೆಯ ದೊಡ್ಡತನ, ಜೀವಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಹುಡುಕಿ ಬದುಕಿದ ಜನರೇ ಚರಿತ್ರೆಗೆ ದೊಡ್ಡತನ.

ತಾರೆಗಳು ಬೀಳುವ ಸಮಯ ಶರತ್ಕಾಲವಿರಬೇಕು ದೇವಲೋಕದಲ್ಲಿ ಬಿದ್ದವು ಸುಮ್ಮನಿರದೆ ಕಣ್ಣುಗಳಲ್ಲಿ  ಕೂತು ಮಿನುಗಬೇಕಂತೆ. ಅವುಗಳಿಗೆ ಕನ್ನಡಿ ಇಟ್ಟವರಾರೆಂದು ಹುಡುಕಬೇಕು, ನನ್ನ ಕಣ್ಣುಗಳ ಹೋಲಿಕೆ ಇನ್ನ್ಯಾರಿಗಿದೆಯೆಂದು ಇಟ್ಟವರನ್ನು ಕೇಳಲು.

it's an all night's road and I'm not even counting the miles I don't seek stars to guide me anymore my screams inside Whisper a gospel or Two my worries as it Were yesterday are far too gone to carry anything from the shabby travelled path I hold nothing for the path yet to come It's a long night's road and I'm not even counting the miles.

The sound of a dropped coin  Into the piggy bank sounds like a desperate lover awaiting  at the opened doors of his heart. May be, that's what savings should Sound like. You put all your happiness into a whiff  Of desperation, that you slowly inhale, To make your heart ready to be served. Similar to inserting the coins, one after the other until the intensity fades. The art of saving, require a lot of talents. You need not put all your heart and soul in a single go. Relax. For instance, if the moon is shining bright today, save it for your darker days.  You see? Saving is an art. If you're wasting your love, hold on. Save it in your pockets, in your favorite books, in your diary, in your smile and most importantly in your belief. Let it entangle with every nook and corner of your bones until you feel like investing your savings on something worthwhile.

When you're out of words,  Just breathe. Just that. Your breath is your poetry. And when you do so  Listen to your breath, carefully. Dance around with the                                 silence and you might  as well hear it with a high  Pitched tone. Sometimes, your sweet little                       voice could be your wasted words. But, never mind. Just watch                       those sweet little words kiss                         the heaven. And always remember You're nothing short of the                             masterpiece that you always  Wanted to write.  Because, You are your masterpiece al...