Masks...

Masks..

It looks easy on the outside,

The face we wear each day—

So plain to see, but deep inside,

It hides so much away.

​Her smiling face brings sudden joy

And makes the dark feel bright;

He wants to stay within her eyes

And live inside that light.

​The silent face carved in a stone

Holds secrets old and deep;

It cannot speak, yet says so much,

Where rocks a god can keep.

​The face that floats upon the stream

Is quick to change and fade—

As short as happy moments pass,

Like plans two lovers made.

​The changing face across the sky

Is new with every breath;

It teaches us that life must change,

From living until death.

​The older face within a tree

Is wise and rooted deep;

It stands against the strongest storm,

With gifts it gives away,

And cares for all the world.

​The promised face of help we seek

Is always out of reach;

It makes us wait like thirsty birds

That sit upon the beach.

​The tricky face of human kind

Can warm you like a friend—

Or turn into a spooky ghost

And leave you in the end.

​And as for me, I wear ten masks,

Like Ravana long ago;

I change my face so many times,

My real self does not show.

I hide so well behind my masks,

There is no real face left to know.

P. S. Human Beings, Nature, Emotions,Time & Life. 

Vipul Arwade

22.07.2026

The Infinite Search...

The Infinite Search...

Yesterday I wandered through the corridors of my soul,  

asking the endless question:  

Who am I? Who am I?  

But the mirrors of the world gave no reply…  

No, I found nothing at all.  

I bowed before idols of stone,  

I whispered in mosques of silence,  

I knelt beneath stained glass light—  

yet the heavens remained mute,  

and I found nothing at all.  

I turned the pages of the Puranas,  

I traced the verses of the Qur’an,  

I listened to the hymns of the Bible—  

but the words dissolved into dust,  

and I found nothing at all.  

I argued with kings and prophets,  

I debated with poets and sages,  

I wrestled with tyrants and dreamers—  

but their voices were only echoes,  

and I found nothing at all.  

I searched the web of wires,  

I drowned in cups of forgetting,  

I devoured books of wisdom—  

but the stars kept their secret,  

and I found nothing at all.  

In dreams I saw Rama,  

in dreams I saw Rahim,  

in dreams I saw Jesus—  

but they faded like mist at dawn,  

and I found nothing at all.  

Then I met a madman,  

his laughter ringing like thunder in the void.  

I asked him:  

Who am I? Whose am I?  

He smiled, and whispered:  

You are stardust… the breath of galaxies.  

You are a dream… woven in eternity.  

You are a song… sung by the spheres.  

You are color… painted on nebulae.  

You are a traveler… walking the endless roads of time.  

You are human… the heartbeat of humanity.  

Yes, you are human… the heartbeat of humanity.  

P. S. English translation of one of my old Marathi poem.. https://vipularwade.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_09.html?m=0

Vipul Arwade

22.07.2026