Puppet

We are all puppets
with someone pulling the strings
strings we can see not, touch not
Just the tension we can feel

The string puller takes me left
when i want to go right
Cannot let go of the pull
Try as i might

The strings could save me
as i am about to fall
why o why! they let go
and let me tumble and all

I need the strings then
to pick me from the ditch
And start believing again
that my destiny maketh me...
No sir, There are no strings

Banjar

Going for a drive in the neat neighborhood. Crisp spring weather. A cd playing assorted list of songs. And i feel a strange connection to this one...Banjar..from Kabul Express

Banjar ret hai ....
Zameen banjar hai ...
Banjar aasmaan ...
Yeh ghar banjar hai ...

Beautiful spring bloom all around and the setting sun giving a lovely orange tinge to the white fluffy clouds.
And yet....

Is banjar sheher ke dil mein dundhu... mein gili mitti ka manjar

The crescent moon beginning to make its presence felt in the twillight sky, the wind carrying sweet smell of Spring.
And yet....

Banjar lamhaa hai
Waqt banjar hai
Banjar waqt si yeh raat banjar hai

Banjar raat! khwaab banjar
Chand taaron ka saath banjar hai

Is it the United states? Or the state of my mind? Or both?