Some people don’t feel the heat.
It is because of those who don’t feel the heat,
that the empty paddy fields turn green,
the roads and bylanes stay clean.
the vehicles of noisy people move without obstruction.
Because of those who don’t feel the heat,
non-motorized rickshaws still move,
hand-pulled carts still survive.
Because of them,
gift packets, perfumes, birthday cakes
reach homes on time.
Some people don’t feel the heat,
and perhaps because of them
– even though fire and smoke pour daily from your mouths –
the earth has not turned to ash,
the city has not yet perished.
+++++++++++++++++++++++

It's running through
my whole body. Every
little strand of sinew
and every piece of
cartilage can feel it.
What's wrapping
my body is cold,
dry and famished,
craving wrapping.
Cigarette ash linens,
it's sticky at the bottom
of a cup on the ground.
Bats in barren caves yet
warmer than in my grotto.

More proof the organs of the body are limiters rather than perceivers:

Dementia onset grandma sees all time at once unfold to her
in the hospital
I am her grandson, son, father, and brother in scattered fragments

The brother amid a manic schizoid crisis can read
your thoughts and see auras
despite my practiced techniques of staying stonefaced and neutral


Eternal Recurrence
Is this where you want to be when YOU come back?

Numbing our faculties with drink and smoke to
forget the faults of our individuality
Unconsciously strive for death
the hallowed and forbidden no man's land of
some universal hum


Forgive all your past
because we're all faulty radios seeking to
receive that same AM static

They used to say to be like the ocean
who can take in polluted rivers, but not be polluted itself
Now the ocean's dying

We achieved an unthinkable number of polluted rivers
It's high time us kind folk dry themselves off and
stop the apocalyptic Millerites from killing us all
prematurely

We need to convince ourselves we're blameless to
grow a backbone and point a collective finger at
the selfish flimflammers we've let rule us so long

The books are closed, the exams are done,  
A chapter ends, a new one's begun.  
No more the rush of schoolyard days,  
Now life's ahead in countless ways.  

The friends we made, the bonds so tight,  
Will shine like stars in the darkest night.  
Yet paths will change, and so will we,  
As we step into what’s meant to be.  

New dreams to chase, new goals in sight,  
A future waiting, bold and bright.  
Though school is gone, its lessons stay,  
To guide us through each step, each day.  

With open hearts, we move ahead,  
No fears, no doubts, just hope instead.  
The world is ours, so vast, so wide,  
A new beginning—let’s walk with pride!

- Saish Itankar

The sun wakes me right

in my face: impossible!


Is the earth tilted?

We thought we'd tamed the dragons.

But they were simply waiting,
Watching us methodically
Create an environment
More suited to their needs.

Heated, unpredictable, and
Increasingly hostile.

We never tamed the dragons.
We became them.

What torture ignorance is!
When you treat ignorance as such,
Perhaps it is.
Being so ignorant,
I could see it.
For the foolishness of it
Is that it is the only route to wisdom!

In how we define it?
By how we describe it?
Of how we perceive it?

Perception birthing perspective,
Yet both products of their environment!
"Self-copulation?"

Of course, given context,
The definitions fluctuate.
So, then our perception of it
And thereby our descriptions of them,
Change or fluctuate also.

Like the rain falling.
Like ice forming.
Like water flowing.