Like a young child sitting on a beach
Wondering why the sea takes away the wave
Just when they touch her feet
The ocean seems to come calling for a claim

Is it what the moon does too?
Taking away the moonlight some days
What about the summer
Shooing snow flakes away?
Like they belong to the winter
And spring makes the flowers sway

They said God is in all,
Maybe yours was bigger than mine.

I said a thousand prayers,
I stood there for a long time.

But the night came crawling,
And all I got were shodows under the lamp.

I liked the moon,
But the sun summoned me instead

Sun, don't be mad if I hate you in the summer. You still are my favourite thing in winters.

Grass, don't feel any less greener if I smell the flowers. You are still my barefoot, long-walk mate.

Maybe you will find me in the pondering state of mind
Maybe you won't find me in the right state of mind
Maybe you won't find me at all

Home is a funny word, a funny feeling!

It's funny to the extent that I laugh at the naiveness of those who believe in it's façade of being permanent.

You are the rainbow, living in disguise
In shades of grey, between black and white.

When you shine through me,
It disperses all colors of you,
Like I am the prism waiting for you.

You see, not all can see
How pretty you are from within,
And all I do is stand amazed
By colors of you in all shades but grey.

Deep I have buried the feelings
Happy sad anger admiration curiosity and love

Some days, sadness finds its way to the surface and I let it pour over
Happiness doesn't even try anymore

Love has decomposed and curiosity has been shushed in the corner
They have been imprisoned in separate cells
Locked and sentenced for the havoc they made

For making me want things, so far from my reach
Cravings just another form of sin

I dig and dig and dig
And then I tire myself
Is it worth it, unearthing the potions that make a witch
The condemned, unfit form of human
A being full of emotions

If places were words, I would read them all day long and then some more at night. I would write them down beside one another to capture the best combinations.

If people were symphonies, I would listen to the music in them every morning. I would keep the best notes and cherish them for life.

If languages were colors, I would wear them with pride, all reds and yellows. I would paint my city in all shades.

A thousand steps
A hundred ripples
Hurried heartbeats
A leap of faith

A journey from "it's me to that's me"

He said he will **** her
Why did it fall in place
Like his kiss was planted
To show she was a different case
She thought he joked, but why
Maybe that's how he operates
Let's say what's the worst that can happen
And leave with just a taste
Then she will see he had mercy
While he treats her as waste
Tell her off like she was a ****
Maybe shift the whole blame

Sit, pause, relax
This journey is taxed

Destination is ought to come
The journey ought to end

Wonder if you see this again
The trees, the scenes, the mountains

I say sit, pause, relax
This journey is taxed

You hold things, you hold them for a while
When in storm, a leaf learns to fly.

It though will belong to the tree it fell from,
Forever and all its life!

On some very rare occasions, or maybe every fortnight
I let you slip in my mind, in the middle of the night
Just a little I let my lips remember yours, the bittersweet taste and all
I run my fingers in your hair, maybe they weren't this long
Snapshots of you, fragments of your touch on my skin burns
And someday I won't remember, how there wasn't an inch between us
But tonight, I will let you slip in mind, just for this time
On some very rare occasions or maybe every fortnight

I remember you, clear as crystal
Young and bold, hopeful but not dreamy
Courageous, stubborn, a bit too rebellious

With a spark like stars, shining bright in your eyes
You aspired to not stand out, but stand tall and rise
But that day on the station, I lost you
You saw me, waved me off

I did not realize, I was 22 and I lost myself in you.

Let this one stay
Don't take it away
Maybe I got swayed
But it's part of the play
For to keep people astray
Your magical spells awaits
Showman walks another way
The audience is left to sit amazed
Go home, the show has to terminate
Take all with you, feelings and your case

Peeking in, sitting by the half dug hole in the ground
Finding worms in the sand as if a can got open
I stare into the nothingness of this roots like labyrinth
Shovel resting on the side nudges to be put to use
Wait, hold on a little, while I decide to plant a seed or dig a grave
It would be a birth nonetheless, only followed by death

No when know, yes when you don't
Run when you're young, dance when old
Climb the mountains, cling to the road
Flutter in the calm, solace in bold

Often, the sombre emerges
Rarely, the world shines

Often, the story is told
Rarely, it comes to life

One day, night will come and the sun will shine no more

One day, it would be no day at all and the moon will be alone

That day, the stars will peek from the holes

That day, the sleep will enter our souls

When it's fire writing the story,
Papers are ought to get burnt.

When we are limited by the inelasticity of time, we run to the past

When we are freed by the depth of life, we walk into the future

To this day, I pray to not know it again
To this moment, I wish to live it all over

If we were to live a life agian, read an old chapter afresh, pluck a different flower this time; we would pick a rose from the most memorable garden of life.

If we were to rewrite endings, take back spoken words, walk a different path; we would speak of the most tragic war and hand that rose of peace to the soldier inside.

To all those on ground battles and in house victories in life, let's pat the cat and drink a little; we know we put the best fight

"Pause"
You sit right there, sneaking in the corner
The black sheep, introvert child.

You are like my coffee, not too dark not too light
But enough to wake me up from my sombre sleep at night.

I see your ignorant friends, the stop and play
They aren't bad, just busy keeping people astray.

You are a misfit, but you fit perfectly in my life
Ironic, you seem to be the corner of the vicious circle of time.

Let's meet there again, where we first met
You get the lines and the triangle, I'll get my mess alright.

It's been years since we left
Not just us but also the place where us existed
If places moved on, I would have taken ours with me
Would have claimed it to be mine in the aftereffects of the separation
Would have fought for it in the court of places for full custody
All the nooks and corners would have been mine to embrace
They would still have you in memory, and that's what we would have had in common
We both would have been craving for your presence, but too stubborn to let you in though
But for better or worse, places don't move on and that's what we indeed have in common

By design, you put roof over me
By nature, I need the sun

Between now and then
A lot has changed
Or should I say grown
In and out, in every direction
Like it was just a matter of time
Like the change waited for seasons
The growth that need water and sun
The tree shedded it's leaves
It bloomed in the spring
Covered with snow for Christmas
Between now and then
A lot has changed

I see the floor these stairs lead to, but I can’t tell what’s exactly going on there. I can hear all sorts of voices and noises and I can also hear the silence. Engrossed in deep thoughts, I suddenly feel a push from someone telling me to climb the hell up. Stuck between my curiosity and the frenzy, I start ascending a few steps and then I freeze. I freeze because I saw a glimpse of what’s going on up there. It looked like a charade and everyone looked like they are in a masquerade. It looked chaotic from where I was standing but I was in the queue, I had to keep moving. Gathering up my courage and given no **** choice, I climbed the stairs. For me, this floor gave ‘mess’ a new dimension and ‘disorder’ a new definition.

Like everyone else, I was also handed over a suitcase that was as big as me, but not as heavy as others. I looked at the annoying, masked person who was registering me as the “new habitant” of the crazy land to get any indication of what am I supposed to do, and he ****** his shoulders as if he did not give a shred of care. It seemed I was on my own to discover this crowded mess of a place where everyone keeps shoving into everyone. It was like an unorganized market, only this time there were no vendors or shops.

My adjusting in this new habitat was not smooth or easy, I was bruised, insulted and called names. The earlier days were not that bad, but after a while things started getting suffocating and I found myself escaping to the already filled balcony to catch my breath more than often. The people who climbed the stairs with me seemed to have gelled in barring a few. A couple of months passed and all I wanted to do was climbed down those steps. But guess what, unlike all conventional staircases, these don’t go down.
I did everything I could to feel at home and I also tried making some friends but nothing seemed to work. It actually made me suffocate even more because all I could see were masks on people’s faces and all I could hear was deception in their voices. In the world where ‘survival of the fittest’ is the mantra, I wonder how long will it be until I choke on my own thoughts and die? How long before this environment takes its toll and push me on the edge? Either I survive or I won’t in this new land called Adulthood.

Sunburnt skins and moonkissed hearts, Pouring rains and heel-clicking walks.

Rough edged pages and unplayed tracks,
Carved pumpkins and ever burning lamps.

Unkept hair and pretty sundress,
Cold meal and unheld hands.

Let them run, wild in the fields

Your thoughts, they need to breath

They have been captivated

Captivated long in the maze

Of lost love and future that seem astray

Let them go to a place they know

Where they find solace

But don't loose sight, they tend to wander

Go to the places they still fonder

Guide them to come back to a place so safe

Green fields and everything but maze

I might run for pages, go out of line
Might write with broken nib, words that fight
Some twisted feels, come taste the lime
I might scribble tales, none held by daylight

Everyday is spring, Everyday is autumn
Today is Summer, infamously hot and stagnant

Clouds are still, leaves don't rustle
Birds have gone away and all there's left is sun

There are burns from winter, frozen for too long
No summer warm enough to melt, though today tries

Come again someday when there is spring, when there is autumn
Be summer with ice then, and maybe melt away

Open the door
Enter the time that lapsed
Draw out the curtains
There is light from the past
Breathe the air
Dance to the tunes slow and fast
Ride the carriages
Travel to the time of chance

Fragments, the stone remembers
The walls echo the tale
Moments, life in reflections
Memory tickles the brain

Jail, like death forever
Prisoner becomes the slave
Life, journey to surrender
End is the game

You took the cloud from the sky
Where else will it belong?

I heard that new homes
Are not easy to be found.

Words like paper, valued by what they say
Eyes like river, unclear when swayed
Mouth like flames, burning the night away
Bodies like roots, thirsty to grow all astray

Yesteryears!
That's what you get for living a life.
A life like a city, in a city.
You get the rushed parts, the gardens, cafés and ice cream parlors.
You also get the schools, markets and the clinics for the hurt.
Yesteryears! That's all you ever going to be needing for living a life.

Sugarcandy or a chilli flake
Either a sweet tooth or a burning ache
Lethal or way too safe
Either a tequila or a fresh water lake
A diamond or a snowflake
One meek other too brave
Rumi's words or Evanescence
It's birth and death at play

Just like the summer afternoon in December
You are both a wish and a memory

Layers and layers of cloth to shield
But can't keep the heart warmly

The words, music and pictures
All but I have remained yours truly

Like the signature at the end of a long email
This just is overlooked me, sincerely