The Things Of The Past

The things of the past are indeed my treasure

Without which I may get immersed in fear

For, I have my own identity and dignity

And my fear is always about losing its vanity;

I have carried the baggage of the whole of humanity

But, with my identity I might be caught in individuality,

The feeling of separation has been lurking in my mind

Though I would love to be part of this whole mankind;

I share the very essence of humanity as pleasure and pain

But, alas, with the superficial feelings it has gone in vain;

The outer appearance must have invaded my mind

To strengthen the sense of individuality with a magic wand;

To live has been essentially to protect my existence,

Where my individual identity has found its importance;

The sense of belonging to the mankind is for my security

And the cover of security is to protect the individuality;

It is not that I always enjoy being an individual,

The pursuit of desire and fear has been a struggle,

The urge to compete for a win would maintain this pursuit

Without which I am afraid, I wouldn’t continue to exist;

Competition destroys the spirit of humanity and oneness

Since it always breeds mutual hatred and hence violence,

One wouldn’t find fulfilment in what one has achieved

As the memory of both bitter and sweet becomes faded;

This is how I have looked at with the things of the past

And, I am sure, I must have become blind to every moment,

The reality, which is in the present moment, is morphed

By the never-ending memories that have remained unbridled;

I wish I forego my identity of the things of the past

Since I have become a pegged goat with my freedom lost,

But then I am afraid of being treated as nobody by everyone

Yet, I feel it worthy to confront it instead of being insane;

Having seen the danger in being attached to all my past

I realize that I have no other choice but to move away from it,

I notice clearly the dissipation of energy stopping slowly

Only to gather all the energy to attend to the present wholly;

With the sense of detachment to the things of the past

I feel relieved of the burden of my identity that was very vast,

I can now see the thoughts from memory being in abeyance

And the intelligence having its own action from the silence.