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| Snigdha Agrawal |
Third Eye, now brought to you by AI
Once, the Third Eye opened wide,
Between the brows, where truths would hide.
It whispered cosmic, ancient lore
Now it streams the ads you saw before.
Once it saw beyond the worldly haze,
Pierced illusion, cracked the maze.
Now it pings: "You left items in your cart."
Divine insight, torn apart.
Where yogis sat, serene and still,
Tapping into a higher will
Now your search history lights the screen,
With tailored ads and targeted dreams.
Once one focused on a lotus bloom,
In silent depths of a quiet room.
Now that’s outsourced, replaced in tone,
By buzzing alerts on your mobile phone.
Intuition once danced in the subconscious,
Elusive, deep, mysterious, wondrous.
Now it’s searchable in a Google app
Neatly filed in data maps.
Yes, we've traded mystics for machine,
Enlightenment for dopamine.
The cosmic gaze replaced, alas
By software updates rolling en masse.
The mind has now gone to sleep
Curtained with blinds, got cheap
We no longer seek divine truths
We Google them. Fast. Uncouth.
The irony of it all is stark:
We've dimmed the soul’s once-radiant spark.
All hope of every recovering from this
Is becoming increasingly slim.
Between the brows, where truths would hide.
It whispered cosmic, ancient lore
Now it streams the ads you saw before.
Once it saw beyond the worldly haze,
Pierced illusion, cracked the maze.
Now it pings: "You left items in your cart."
Divine insight, torn apart.
Where yogis sat, serene and still,
Tapping into a higher will
Now your search history lights the screen,
With tailored ads and targeted dreams.
Once one focused on a lotus bloom,
In silent depths of a quiet room.
Now that’s outsourced, replaced in tone,
By buzzing alerts on your mobile phone.
Intuition once danced in the subconscious,
Elusive, deep, mysterious, wondrous.
Now it’s searchable in a Google app
Neatly filed in data maps.
Yes, we've traded mystics for machine,
Enlightenment for dopamine.
The cosmic gaze replaced, alas
By software updates rolling en masse.
The mind has now gone to sleep
Curtained with blinds, got cheap
We no longer seek divine truths
We Google them. Fast. Uncouth.
The irony of it all is stark:
We've dimmed the soul’s once-radiant spark.
All hope of every recovering from this
Is becoming increasingly slim.
***
Ode to Ma’s Third Eye
If there were a prize for a third eye sharp,
That works year-round like a fine-tuned harp
It would, hands down, go to Ma,
For her gift of spotting every flaw.
As a teen, I tried my best to fib,
With clever stories and alibis, glib.
But no matter how smooth the tale I spun,
She saw through it all, before I'd begun.
Ma could outwit Sherlock Holmes.
Her third eye pierced through all unknowns.
That works year-round like a fine-tuned harp
It would, hands down, go to Ma,
For her gift of spotting every flaw.
As a teen, I tried my best to fib,
With clever stories and alibis, glib.
But no matter how smooth the tale I spun,
She saw through it all, before I'd begun.
Ma could outwit Sherlock Holmes.
Her third eye pierced through all unknowns.
It wasn’t gentle, wise, or kind
It interrogated my teenage mind.
“Study group,” I’d say with flair
But one glare froze me mid-air.
Before my foot could touch the floor,
Her voice rang out: “I know the score.”
Dates? Please. I’d try to sneak away,
But her Third Eye blocked the very way.
It scanned the texts, the grin, the hair,
And sniffed out hormones in the air.
Sleepovers? “Just girls,” I’d swear
“Are their parents’ home?” questioned stare.
“I’ll walk you to their door,” she’d add
And just like that, my plans went kaput.
In temples, I bowed. Serene. Devout.
But that Eye saw through my spiritual pout.
No mantra, bell, or incense disguise
Could fool those ever-watchful eyes.
I’m sure she had a secret pact
With cosmic forces to keep me tracked.
While yogis sought enlightenment's glow,
I just hoped her spies would go.
So, here’s to parents with powers uncanny,
Who knows when you’ve lied, without asking any?
A Salute to Ma’s Third Eye that never took rest
Wired even to the back of her head.It interrogated my teenage mind.
“Study group,” I’d say with flair
But one glare froze me mid-air.
Before my foot could touch the floor,
Her voice rang out: “I know the score.”
Dates? Please. I’d try to sneak away,
But her Third Eye blocked the very way.
It scanned the texts, the grin, the hair,
And sniffed out hormones in the air.
Sleepovers? “Just girls,” I’d swear
“Are their parents’ home?” questioned stare.
“I’ll walk you to their door,” she’d add
And just like that, my plans went kaput.
In temples, I bowed. Serene. Devout.
But that Eye saw through my spiritual pout.
No mantra, bell, or incense disguise
Could fool those ever-watchful eyes.
I’m sure she had a secret pact
With cosmic forces to keep me tracked.
While yogis sought enlightenment's glow,
I just hoped her spies would go.
So, here’s to parents with powers uncanny,
Who knows when you’ve lied, without asking any?
A Salute to Ma’s Third Eye that never took rest
Exemplary poetry blending the modern and the ancient. rhymed poems are read after a long time and it was a treat.
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