Thursday, November 10, 2016

Walking into a new dawn.



The first whiff of fresh air,
By the mountains leading to the river,
So new, unlike the dusty old tents;
The grass soothed the wounded feet,
And he ran faster than ever before,
And farther than he had always known,
Away from all the pain he endured.
He stopped at the vast forest for shade,
Oh, he hadn’t been away from the sun’s glare,
In his rusty little cage where he could barely turn,
The cage that had been his home for years,
Ever since he was snatched away from his mother,
The memories that had grown faint said.
He walked to the stream, pulling the broken chain on his leg along,
Happily gulped down water he hasn’t had in days.
He looked around and felt so strange,
To see no humans staring at him,
The ones who cheered when he jumped into rings,
The ones who screamed and beat him to bleed,
The humans he grew angry on but feared.
He ran around the trees, soaking in their warmth.
He looked up at the birds singing,
He turned to the bees humming,
He looked far into the mountains he crossed,
And he thought of his brothers back there,
As he walked into his freedom,
Into the life he had always deserved.




Friday, June 17, 2016

Away from the dark


















Gasping for breath, I continued running.
Undeterred even as I stifled.
I could see the darkness chasing me,
As I cried and raced away from the beasts.
Ghosts of memories kept stabbing me,
Nightmares of betrayal haunting all along,
I ran as far as I could, from all that hurt me.
Cursed to see the demons in everyone around,
The smiles that concealed the dark hearts,
I hastened away from the hatred thrown at me.
Stealing away my little positive air,
From the gusts of negative winds,
I dashed towards my castle of peace.
Many a time, I lost my way,
And shuddered in thoughts,
Of being entangled in the black clouds again.
Every dusk, I wait for the sun to set,
So that I could get to my refuge.
Where I could hug myself like a foetus,
In the warmth of the night,
Away from the painful woes of the day.


Tuesday, March 3, 2015

A little amiss

What’s about this afternoon of sunshower,
That makes me rather gloomy, I ponder.
As my anarchic thoughts run berserk,
Like the blurred dances of the shadows,
Of the rustling leaves in bright moonlight,
I flutter between my hopes and reflections.
Somewhere in the race of life,
We sprint and then squander,
Pausing to discern the true course,
Trailing the real mission of our lives,
In pursuit of the Moirai’s harbor.
Meanwhile, not to let slide,
That the quest for joy and bliss,
Is the most important of them all,
For they are conducive and valued greatest.
Believe what the heart asserts,
It sure guides you right.
Stay optimistic! :) 




Thursday, February 27, 2014

Conquering the lull.

In the tumult and furor of the city,
With abundance of flurry around,
The ostentatious and florid colors fade,
From flashy to shades of grey,
The voices blur, faint enough to hear yourself.
Time ebbs and every second gets distinct as it impedes.
The urge for solitude arises,
To be obscure in a world owned by me,
Without abutting forlornness,
Yet lorn and longing to belong more,
To desist from qualms and furtive tears,
For I know I have a blessed life,
With the aeon so beautiful,
And just some sparse clouds atop now,
Toning the present down a little,
Before they move away far
To flaunt the blue sky ahead,
With abounding stars and the mighty Sun,
That wouldn’t fail to give me the smiles and joy.
Oh, palisades of the blissful path.
Here I am, traversing past them.
Picking up bounteous faith and optimism,
The companions I have ever had unfailingly,
Determined to reach my ‘home’.
Chimerical, yet hopeful :)







Sunday, September 15, 2013

The scar on the little flower.

Let me go, uncle.
It hurts and haunts.
I don’t like it.
I don’t know what you are doing to me.
But I know it is not right.

Let me go, uncle.
Can’t you hear me cry?
For the pain and fear grips me hard.
I don’t like it when you touch me this way.
Papa or bhaiyya don’t do this with me.

Let me go, uncle.
Your threats scare me.
As much as the thought that mama will hate me.
But I want to tell her I’m not bad.
I am not bad, am I?

Let me go, uncle.
I don’t know if I’m wrong.
Yet I feel ashamed.
And scared. Very scared.
I don’t want this anymore.

Let me go, uncle.
Don’t make me feel weaker.
Don’t make me feel wrong.
Don’t make me cry more.
Don’t make me tremble this way.

Let me go, uncle.
For I struggle within myself.
I’m afraid to tell anyone.
I’m afraid to go out.
I’m afraid to see any one.

Let me go, uncle.
I am like your daughter, ain’t I?
Little and all of 8yrs.
Someday, when I grow up big.
I hope I can forget all this.

Let me go, uncle.
For I think I cant fight more.
I struggle to tell you this.
And beg you to stop.
Let me free, uncle.







Wednesday, August 14, 2013

The beauty in life after!

The old yellow leaf
Let go from its world,
Floats in the air,
And swings its way down,
To place itself on the grey tomb.
The birds chirp sweetly,
In a sound that is almost music.
The leaves of the dark green trees,
Rustling in the wind,
Makes the place colder.
The loud silence is ending.
The dew drops are drying.
The sun is almost peeping out.
The insects crawl back home.
The breeze sings the hymns.
A beautiful morning.
In the most genuine place ever.
A place that paves way to heaven.
Millions of memories stay reduced in a stone.
The most genuine emotions stay contained in the place.
A place with dried tears of love.
A place where the blessed and the sinned are laid,
To reach the destined place away from the world.
A world of its own.
A life after the life.
After meeting the ultimate truth.
The truth of death.
The one truth that cannot be denied.
The truth that is most true of all.
The truth that one has to accept.
That comes calling the one time.
Most feared, yet it bores beauty to it.
It has to be embraced when its time.
With a smile that says all.
It has to be loved the way one loves life.
It has to be respected for what it is.
The most genuine truth.
The one that makes the world as much as the life.
The one that makes us ponder.
And yearn for love when you wait for it.





Tuesday, August 13, 2013

The moon and me

Some days, sometimes
There is nothing you can do to feel good.
You know what hurts.
And you know it cannot be changed.
Nor accepted with a smile.
It kills.
Yes, loneliness does that.
It is not about having no one to care.
It is much deeper.
The feeling of wanting something.
And never having it.
A feeling of want becoming a need.
A feeling of the minds closing in.
A feeling of trying to break the walls around,
Built by oneself and the world.
A feeling of not knowing what it is.
A feeling that can only be let out in tears.
And some anger, perhaps.
A feeling that words always fail to express.
Understood by none
Other than the heart in pain.
A feeling that is felt
With some pain, always.
A lonely walker.
Down the lonely road.
Wanting much more and..
Trying to forget the dreams that never came true!
Looking up at the sky of stars
And the one moon.
As lonely as I am.