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Äŧül Nov 2013
It's been long said in ancient Sanskrit texts,
"Yatha twam karasi,
Tatha twam bhogasi."

This roughly translates as 'As you sow, so you reap.'

This is true to the core but it's neither unconditional nor is it surely possible for you or me to be happy tomorrow even if we do good today. You might also have observed that sometimes you don't get exactly what you desired and yearned for when putting all your efforts. I will explain in the text that follows.

I am not Superman or a Godman blessed with super powers. I just believe in humanitarian virtues of course for all my life. And I don't despise the idea of theism. As some other people among the readers and their respective circles even I tame the same ideology about God having created the universe and then let us take charge.

I don't get involved in worshipping the creator, but I do thank that creator for having created us all. But how do I keep myself away from the various types of evils? The answer lies within.

What I identify as evil or deleterious to anyone or anything else, I don't do that and I totally despise all of it. Doing so I am aware that what I have been taking to and what I should get into. Whether it's my career or my love life, it almost totally depends on me and my Karma. The remaining few bits also depend on time and third parties who can affect my life greatly or maybe a little.

I don't know about what they quote other "Spiritual" people about and I feel that each of us can have our own views about time. I don't feel the urge to read about spiritual issues written by some well-publicised so called "Spiritual Gurus or Dharmatmas" who talk about out of the body experience.

The next time you think about some problem posed to you, your relative or a close friend, do try the following:
Just get out of your own mindset, think about the issue from a neutral point of view with your sixth sense (common sense) in right place. You're bound to find out the best way for solving it; let it be life or let it be any matter related to it.
This is not a poem or a debatable matter, but just my perspective on the aforesaid matter. I don't look for any suggestions for some improvements in my virtues.
Äŧül Oct 2013
And so I asked my future wife,
With a smile on my calm face,
When we made a new decision,
About getting a new apartment,
To which she replied innocently,
"How would it be helping us now?
If we made away with Craig's list,
Wouldn't he be at significant loss?"

I didn't reply and merely smiled,
It was a slightly pleasant surprise,
Taken by her cutely innocent reply,
I told her that what a Craigslist was,
Even she was laughing at herself now.
Just a vision.

My HP Poem #454
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jun 2014
Later one day, we went to a holiday trip.
Together we went, we went for trekking.
We went to the hills, we went for hiking.

As we went on further, she was awed by the scenic beauty.
As we went on higher, she was awed by that colder temperature.
As we went on farther, she was awed by the natural attraction.

She saw a snow-covered mountain peak enveloped by dark clouds.
She was really intrigued by this scene above her eye level.
She ultimately asked me with a smile, "What is that?"

I answered in one line, "Darling, it is my face in the slivers of your hair."
My HP Poem #636
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Aug 2016
You will end up with someone disappointed in you,
Your moments of happiness will end up in blue.

Ditching me you are not going to be happy ever,
If I weep off my nights alone then you won't be happy either.
My HP Poem #1107
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2017
1 day I'll make sure that the
2 of us make love through
3 a.m. in the wall clocks
4 will be no different
5 will be our bedtime
6 a.m. will be our sleep
7 a.m. we will be awake.
My HP Poem #1376
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Mar 2013
I climb on the mountain,
Pestered by grief.
I hide the recent stain,
Anointed by sorrow.
I try to subdue the pain,
Inflicted by remorse.

As I see another sun - Sunday,
I repent waking on Monday - again.
Because the pain in my brain - hurts badly,
I feel it growing on Tuesday - every other day.
And it takes over me as I reach - the high-mountain,
I free myself from the pain bothering me - daily, daily.

I didn't feel you coming - my way,
Taking all my tears - yeah - with the rain.
An angel you came to my lonely-lonesome life,
I feel it easing as it drops like the broken window-pane.
Though you heal my heart - my soul still bleeds profusely,
Going away into the penance mode - mode - repentance mode.

I jump down the mountain,
Though you float like a guardian,
You can't stop me from falling - falling.
As I fall down the mountain,
I look at my guardian - guardian,
She cries & starts lamenting - lamenting.

You reverse the sands of time,
And it starts over again.
I climb on the mountain,
Trying to make away with the sorrow.
And this time I step forwards at the cliff,
You hug me tightly from behind.
I see you abandon your angelhood,
For me, from me - from me, for me.
You chose mortality over your boon,
Your power has diminished.
But our story won't die when we die,
Because it's love - it's love - it's love.

Seven times we take birth,
In this realm - in this Hell.
We must be united & live,
Enjoying the painful life,
And the pleasures alike.
We must remain united,
Stay pleased & happy.

This way we book our places in the Heaven,
We hope to find death in each others' arms only,
Here we find happiness flowing - flowing - flowing,
In the stream through Garden of Eden - Eden - Eden,
Where we also find safe haven - safe haven - safe haven,
(: In that Magnificent and Glorious Gateway of Heaven....... :)
As you'll notice, there're 7 stanzas this poem has been broken into hence lending the (7) to the title
HP Poem #143
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Apr 2013
I don't believe in any of the world religions because I have different views about Ishwar/Rabb/God.

All My Pain Disappears.
When I see her coming in my thoughts.

Yes the young one is my Ishwar.
She is my Rabb.
She is my God.

She is my sole belief.
Lives in my mind's peaceful region.
She is like a coral reef.
I live in her heart considering her my religion.

She is my soul's relief.
From all these daily worries & tensions.
She is very young friend.
Somebody as young as the new blossoms.
She scents up my days & nights alike.

She is like my child.
Six years & nine months younger female me.
She is my love.
Happy I am & happily I suffer the pain.
She doesn't let my smile fade.

She is my poetry.
Most of my poems come out in her name these days.
She is my divine peace.
Her coming to my life is the brightest opportunity to me.
She inspired me to adopt poetry as my religion.
Her presence gives a meaning to my otherwise meaningless life.
She smiles a very contagious smile I imagine very clearly.
Aye, Bee, See,
My love is for the she
One, Two, Three,
My life is for the she
Eks, Why, Zee,
It is her, She is her and
It is she!
My HP Poem #161
© Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jul 2017
I* have understood
Over the last decade
That I'm unlovable
And an eternal failure

Only my parents care for me
First Gods they are for me

Truly selfless they have been
Really supportive in my life
Unwavering their commitment
They are the only permanence
H**urting them will be my sin
I may be unlovable for some people,
But for my parents I am the prime,
And I have truly realized it finally.

To hell with all those unfaithful lovers.

My HP Poem #1624
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jun 2013
Do you know what's 1+1?
No. Seriously!
I mean to ask it.

Well it can't be generalized if you asked me.
Let me have the privilege of explaining how's, what's & why's...
Pay a bit of attention please...

Here, let me explain with examples...
Case I:
Consider a man & woman.
They marry each other to add into each other's lives.
They go for their honeymoon and have a baby (or some babies if multiple embryos succeed to develop).

Case II:
Consider unsafe ****** encounters.
Teenagers go for unwarranted *** with their counterparts and the girl gets pregnant. Here further cases of possibilities arise. Depending upon how either the girl or the boy and their parents react to the situation, there can be a single child or maybe multiple numbers of offspring here too!

So 1+1 = 2. Not always true!
My HP Poem #335
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Dec 2016
Life is fast & furious,
But achieved patiently,
Are all those good things.
All houses are not Toretto's,
Because life is so unique,
And it is really not like,
The Fast and the Furious.
1327 is the Toretto House in The Fast and the Furious.
Dominic & Mia Toretto were brought up there.

HP Poem #1327
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Dec 2015
If I was a real world king,
The assassin group at my command,
Would consist of 13 experts.

If there was a assassin's creed,
They will carry out my royal orders,
All 13 of them along with me.

So would be the deadliest group,
So would be the perfect killers,
So would be the "14 Marksmen".
My HP Poem #941
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jul 2017
The Thames river froze that year,
Ênglish sheep husbandry I tell ya,
The Thirty Years' War continued,
Epic losses to sheep & men alike.

À cataclysmic year for many.

Testing year for **** sapiens,
Ênchanted were the scavengers,
True bounty for dogs & vultures,
Europe almost killed its cultures.
A tête à tête with history.

But human beings are hardy organisms.
They have always recovered from worse.
Most English sheep succumbed to winter that year.

Out of a flock of 20,000 sheep only 35 were left in England that year.

The 30 Years' War (1618 to 1648) that had killed 8 million people overall, had killed many people due to their injuries and the merciless cold.

A retrospective poem reminding the ability of humanity to preserve all life.

The English people had regained much of their sheep flock soon in the 5 years that followed.

My HP Poem #1620
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Oct 2016
The Pill was invented then,
And humanity lost all its morals finally.
Girls started using The Pill,
And now *** is for recreational purposes.
Birth control lost its meaning,
And condoms were now used just for fun.
The Pill came and all morality was lost.
HP Poem #1184
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Dec 2016
My age is less than your Jesus,
I was born 2 days before X-mas,
The year was 1990 Anno Domini.
My HP Poem #1336
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2015
My army is of just 2 soldiers,
Only she and me making we,
We both work hard together,
For we both have to succeed,
So that our love will improve,
As time is so very unforgiving,
We will be together in the end.
My HP Poem #866
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2016
On All Poetry at her behest, I had created an account...
And this is one one of my poems which I had posted there...

How Are You,
My Love?
I Long For You,
Today, Every Day!

I Have Not
Met You Ever,
So I Long For You!

Soon We Will
Meet In Your City,
The Idea Captures Me!
My HP Poem #1078
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2013
Your picture is just the 2-D depiction,
What I imagine is the 3-D reality...
You look so attractive in 2-D itself,
Calling you **** would underestimate your 3-D reality..
Your poetry depicted in this 2-D world,
Beautiful it must be to get to your 3-D reality.
This too, is for the little one
© Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2017
Go away the sour Kreepy memories,
I will definitely be crazy to relive you,
You're a bad experience - a good lesson.
Take away all the mysterious mysteries,
I will not be again a scapegoat for you,
Not a game as I am not your ******.
And I will start afresh this year now.
New Year Resolution: To UnLove The Non-Deserving

My HP Poem #1361
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2013
21 Guns which blast together,
To show respect to the martyr,
In a ceremonial military salute,
Make noise to fewest residents,
To the patriots they do salute.

All the 21 times the guns blast,
In unison and to show him respect,
The irritable residents find it nonsense,
Cursing the governments for wars,
In unison and in an undertone.

Their criticism is more of war,
Of aristocracy & government,
Apathetic are the commoners,
But to them the peace matters,
Feeling more loyal & patriotic.
The 21 guns blare 21 times.
My HP Poem #264
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Dec 2013
Today I completed 23 years,
It's been a really long time,
Since I shed any of my tears,
Even when I felt like crying.

Though blessed with rebirth,
I used to feel forsaken in life,
Sulking in the sadder shades,
Escaping to the blues felt easy.

Tears stayed behind the lids,
Imploding into myself forever,
Singing the saddest of songs,
Ever felt the sadness to stay.

That day I met you in myself,
I had felt like meeting myself,
Slow & steady we come closer,
Especially for me you descend.
Tears of loneliness held back by a mature conscience,
I had feared for myself staying unsatisfied forever,
You have come like a promising dream to me,
How may I be thankful enough to you ever.

I thank you my friend for condescending in my life as the greater constant there ever will be in my life.

Thank you, Kripi.

My HP Poem #503
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2016
My classmate from high-school,
Roll number 57 - Mohit Kamboj,
Is the coolest & the most freaky.

I have not seen anyone as awesome,
In their give & take with the teacher,
He made the class laugh effortlessly!
I was in Kendriya Vidyalaya (Central School), Karnal for my high school years and it was here that I made friends with some unforgettable people.

I miss each one of them.

My HP Poem #957
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Aug 2013
There're no lucky or unlucky,
No benign or cancerous,
Nonsense or sensible,
Bitter or sweet,
There's a strange,
Number in every life,
Insignificant but important,
Like there's number 7 for me.
Read 7 & I (Part II), to better understand this poem.

My HP Poem #399
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Aug 2013
There's a prime example,
Which reflects the importance,
Of number 7 in my life.

It's the sequence of my rebirth,
In real world after an accident,
On '7th' of May, 2010 which put,
Me to the horror of my family,
Into a comatose state..

Now before you start taking 7,
As an unlucky number for me,
Let me tell you that my story is,
Far from over yet as I am alive,
After surviving the serious injuries,
From the accident that the doctors feared,
And I braved death in the HDU number 7.
Read Part I of this work to make any sense of it all.
I was in the ICU number 5 at the Sir Ganga Ram's Hospital located at New Delhi and after that I was shifted to HDU number 7.

An ICU is more serious than a HDU.

Intensive Care Unit
High Dependency Unit

My HP Poem #398
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2017
1.* I love you!!!
2. It can't be undone
3. I prefer that you reflect
4. My feelings for you are pure
5. I'll never find you gone
6. It'll only get better
7.** I'm immortal
I am the immortal lover.
The love for you will not die ever.
It doesn't matter if you love me or don’t.
Even if I die, my memories will love you.

My HP Poem #1533
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jun 2016
My new device Samsung Galaxy A7 (6),
I bought it off my own money guys,
And I am so pleased with myself.

It has helped distract me finally,
The breakup will be forgotten now,
Her false love vanished 7 Galaxies away.
Verdict and review: Samsung Galaxy A7 (6) - the 2016 version is the best phone at its price.
Sometimes you need to move on unwillingly.

My HP Poem #1086
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2015
I would like you all to buy my novel's eBook @
which is the link to my novel's eBook. Its title is 7 Seconds which has sold around 20 copies by now with positive reviews by its few readers.
A Facebook fan page at has already gathered a large following just from the introduction.

You'll need a credit card or an internationally enabled debit card for this purpose.

After the extremely serious accident on 7th of May in 2010 which had me on the brink of dying a comatose death, I'm in a transition from my bachelor's degree to a master degree.

I need to independently bear my medical expenses. The story is awesome and is definitely going to impress you. 7 Seconds is a novel that contains many story-related poems.

It is a fast paced story of more than 100,000 words which traces its origins from my real life and is then entirely a fiction. It has the flavours of teen fiction, romance novel, sci-fi, spirituality, anti-terrorism, tourism and the unmistakable tangy Desi flavour of India.

Trust my word. Buy the fabulous story. I couldn't get it published in hard copy because of the corrupt Indian system which also has entangled the youth of India.

If you like my poems, you are going to love my novel.

In today's date, hard copy of a novel is both taxing on the Environment and the buyer. An eBook is not only far more economical and greener than a conventional novel but also it is more easily accessible on a handheld device.

All I can say is that I request you to do your bit both for the environment, and also for your beloved poet who wants to bear his medical expenses on his own till his studies get completed.
Not a poem but a hopeful request. Try this Indian poetical novelist's story.
Äŧül Aug 2014
Just go to...
This is a dream-come-partially-true.
Äŧül Apr 2013
Let me tell you a story about a guy named Akshant,
He belonged to Mathura in India, once the city of Krishna.

He was born on 23rd of December in the year 1990,
It was a stormy & rainy night when he was born.
Krishna was born under much similar conditions,
He was taken to safety away from his wretched uncle,
Time is exactly as the glorious & glorified mythology has it.

Akshant spent his early life much like any other kid,
Just the difference was that he was totally alone.
He spent his teenage in similar lonely circumstances,
Akshant searched for love all his teenage but to no avail,
Time gave a lonely -read tough- early lifetime to Akshant this way.

Akshant met a deadly accident on the highway,
And he went into a long & carefree coma.
As Akshant slept he took their breath away,
But they prayed for him to come out of the coma.
Time has its own ways of teaching lessons & for him it chose this way.

Akshant had been wasting his time in the search of love,
Ignoring the words of parents, his studies & friends.
His girlfriend ditched him for a fit & fine guy,
Who could take her out on dates unlike our Akshant.
Time had its own wicked ways of making him pay for the wrongs he did.
Read Part II and other parts too...
My HP Poem #173
© Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Apr 2013
Let me continue the story about a guy named Akshant,
Who belonged to Mathura in India, once the city of Krishna.

Akshant rejoined college and scored acceptably well this time,
He had realized his mistakes while he was to stay at home.
Repentance on committing mistakes intentionally was ripe,
He barely controlled the regret from flowing through his eyes.

Anamika was the only friend who was by his side in this time,
Giving him relief from loneliness which rang as the door chime.
Akshant had a poor memory so not much could stay on his mind,
Stressing his memory too much would only make his brain to grind.

Akshant then studied cautiously holding onto Anamika's hand,
Cautious he was not to crush it as he had formerly done to others.
He brightened up his professional life along with the romantic life,
And he scored brilliantly given his mental health was really affected.

The dried clots inside his brain were still an issue two years later,
But he controlled himself to not harm others from his anger.
The clots used to come out through as tears and ear wax,
Almost all was physically well after three more years.

Akshant went Kodaikanal after his bachelor's degree college,
He was an eligible bachelor when he had a job confirmation.
This happened when he was drifting away in the Kodai lake,
Anamika who sat next to him in the boat congratulated him.

Now Anamika confessed her feelings for Akshant in the boat,
Akshant couldn't find any words & found himself quite quiet.
This made Anamika challenge and taunt about his manliness,
Which caused Akshant get enraged & kiss his reply on her lips.

The boat swayed terribly in the star-shaped lake's still waters,
Anamika ogled & felt her hair get wet & this made her ****** Akshant.
She started kissing him back now & her eyes were coming back to normal,
These had been wide ogling when Akshant had started kissing hard and so it was.
Read part I here:
My HP Poem #176
© Atul Kaushal
Le 17 Avril, 2013.
Äŧül Aug 2014
Try to buy the ebook of my novel '7 Seconds' @ and enjoy. Help me get ahead with my book. Initiate its sales.
The book is about Akshant, a young man who grows up romancing with life until he meets with a serious accident. He saves a flight from hijackers towards the end. The hijackers belong to 'Shuddha Rakht' (Pure Blood), an extremist organization on lines of the **** Party that wants to purify the bloodlines of India.

Do write about it and share its link on Facebook after you have read it.
You can read it on your Android or Kindle or other reading devices - may be your laptop or desktop computers.
Äŧül Feb 2015
Release date: 14th February, 2015

Pre-order this fantastic saga of love, deceit, career, patriotism, class divide, and science.

Decorated with romantic, patriotic & social message-conveying poems, 7 Seconds is a great story revolving around the protagonist named 'Akshant' who is trying to search out his main motive in life in petty romantic escapades till a serious accident changes his world and he becomes serious towards his career. He works for the betterment of the entire globe by discovering a novel method of easily producing high-quality biodiesel. Towards the end, he is involved in a fight against the terrorists on a flight to Hamburg where he is going for participating in an international biotechnology conference.
Alternatively, buy it on Amazon's Kindle eStore:
Äŧül Apr 2013
I can't say I will marry her really soon for sure, because this is India and the society here is really tough.

But I'm Atul Kaushal, my name literally means Incomparable Skill and I intend to achieve something significant in my life, such that I'm fully capable to fulfill all her unsaid hidden desires when we marry.

I don't want her to feel any regrets or other negative feelings when she marries me some 7 years later, I only want us to be different than the rest of world such that unlike most of them no problems arise between us due to various worldly problems.

May be I'm dreaming of something perfect, but so far my life has been perfectly imperfect with the share of misgivings I have had is the majority in my performance card and I now wish that when she marries me the only thing which is imperfect is our hairstyle every morning we wake up smiling as we remember the previous night.

May be I am or may be I'm not demanding too much from time - I'm just asking her in my destiny - just her - in my mornings I imagine her jogging with me - in my days toiling at her desk in the office just like me - in my afternoons calling me to verify if I had my lunch we had packed in the morning - in my evenings asking how my day at office had been and telling about hers too - in my weekends I see 'us' having fun.

May be I am or may be I'm not being too apprehensive in my mind - apprehensive that whether her family will accept me as their son-in-law, or we would have to forget each other, or we will have only one way left and that be just to take help from the court and elope to get married, or may be I will just have to abduct her from the wedding venue in full public view in front of her parents, uncles & aunts, siblings & cousins, friends & acquaintances, Hindu priests & pujaris, may be thugs & bodyguards hired by her family to keep the wedding a smooth affair, and may be my parents might refuse to let her in.

But under ideal conditions, it will be as I desired and even later we would be happily parenting two kids for I don't wish to have just one child like I myself had been in my childhood; these scars of loneliness are dug prominently on my face, but these disappear, yes these disappear when you make me smile along you as I hear you smile and I believe that these will surely disappear permanently after our formal union; till then I miss you meri nanhi si jaan my sweet young love, like I should have missed when I was fifteen too - I miss you and I miss you because I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you and I more than love you.
All I can end the poem with is that just 7 more years, you'll be done with studies & I'll be minting a fortune fortunately - definitely, it will take time - in a day nobody conjures out any long history.
Howsoever bumpy it may be, but rest assured that you're going to enjoy this journey.
(: You'll love it - you're gonna love it, all of it, my lovely young baby. :)
P.S.: I'm never going to lose You my Lovely Little Poetess.
P.P.S.: I truly love You my Magical Angel. :)
My HP Poem #160
© Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2014
Thanks to my parents and good wishes of friends that I am writing this poem 4 years after my major accident which nearly killed me. This poem has no rhyme-scheme because it is more of free verse than a primary school poem. I am nearly fine.

7th May approaches once again,
Another year has passed me by.
It was filled with hostile attitude,
With nothing for offering to me.
Virtuous actions failed to suffice,
Nor did all my humbling words.
7th May approaches once again,
365 more days have passed me by.

That event - I can't call it fortunate or unfortunate,
But it did affect my life knocking me out of senses.
Not for just a day or 2, but 23 days in all that was,
I escaped an end to my life during that long coma.
Red - rosy cheeks & lips of mine now veil all injury,
Just balance & memory problems need to be fixed.

Some misfortune did come my way,
But so did shine my fortune greatly.
And after the accident I have met her,
She made me forget all pain of mine.

Tears which failed to escape my eyes after accident,
You vent them from yours after listening to my story,
But hey, I tell you to look at me for I am alive,
Yes I've cheated dear death once and for you I can cheat her again.
Twice or as many times I have to post my victory over death to ultimately unite with you in love, peace and tranquility.

'If I ever meet Time, Destiny or that thing called God, they will have questions to answer and it'll be them who will have lessons to learn.'

My HP Poem #625
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Apr 2017
Red, dark and light, apples,
They sell it for Rupees 80 a kg,
Available sans the ripples,
But sans bargaining not so easy.

Even the grapes, delicious,
They sell it for Rupees 80 a kg,
Appears to be so luscious,
There're many other fruits here.
My HP Poem #1510
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jul 2013
I had read #5 Harry Potter & the Order of Phoenix as the first of all the other books in the Harry Potter series.

I am used to reading or watching literary or television series from anywhere and as usual you may call it strange or weird - but hey - that's perfectly me!

I am equally undeterred to read or watch the previous parts even after knowing who gets defeated in what way - not that I extract pleasure out of being so weird, but actually - I do!

My HP Poem #381
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Dec 2013
The sanctuary roars,
Some of its many beasts seem angry,
They all feel hungry.

The roar is sadder,
Some of the advanced beasts feel sad,
They all miss hunting.

The roar is full of sorrow,
Some of its beasts can't contain the sorrow,
They all miss their families.
My HP Poem #504
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2017
I'm the bridge connecting them together,
Two different strains of Indian culture,
And I am doing justice to my mother,
As well as I am doing it to my father.
And I am so linking north with south,
Two different styles of parenting couth,
I'm the son of 2 strains of Indian culture.
My father is an Aryan from north India.
My mother is a Dravidian from the south.
My own definition is of a whole Indian.
My HP Poem #1392
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Sep 2013
This is a thought for all the days,
Ponder upon it as the sun stays,
Even if a group of clouds plays...

Darker even than the darkest night,
Thin is the strand holding us tight,
Lighter even than the air so light..

Think of me when you're bothered,
Guess what I must've suggested,
Even as you struggle & get tired.

Think about these golden words,
Those we share & those we don't,
Saying all is something we won't..

Staying happy now in our misery,
When it is to love we're no miserly,
The love potion flows ceaselessly...
My HP Poem #421
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Apr 2015
A three-year-old boy in Cleveland,
Himself a very young little kid,
Shot a baby dead on Sunday night.

The bullet hit in the face of the baby,
Then it was rushed to a hospital,
But was pronounced brought dead.

Who is to be blamed now?
The kid toying with the gun??
Or the irresponsible parents???

I think it is the society's fault,
Needless are the guns in homes,
Shouldn't the society repair itself?

But are the blames enough now?
Can blaming bring the baby back to life?
No. A big NO!
Very saddened by reading this appalling piece of news in today's newspaper.

Profit is to be made, agreed.
But at this cost??

Gun laws need to be made extremely stringent & strict everywhere to avoid any such incidents again in future.

Guns are needless tools of hatred.

My HP Poem #836
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jul 2013
Everybody knows of Istanbul in Turkey,
This poem will only lay some light on it,
Through the history & mankind's irony.

Istanbul was settled as a Greek colonial city,
'Twas named Byzantium after a Greek king,
And the Old Greek king's name was Byzas.

The Romans under Constantine won over it,
Now it was their turn to rename the city,
After the emperor as Constantinople.

The great Turks captured it in 1453 AD lastly,
The fabulous fortress was renamed yet again,
The present name Istanbul descended in 1923.
What an admirable city!
Be it the Greek Byzantium,
The Roman Constantinople,
The Turkish capital Istanbul;
The city stands witness to rising & diminishing powers and also to humanity's greatest complex - the insecurity complex!
Everyone wants to leave behind some mark to be remembered, be it a city's name!
A narrative historical poem for a change.
My HP Poem #387
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2015
May they be positive,
Together we gel so well,
Impossible to separate us now,
Whatever may cometh we are ready,
Budge we won't - err we won't,
This bond is so precious,
May they all accept us.

Because together we are one,
It will take inhuman strength,
To do us apart they will need it,
A stone heart just won't suffice,
It won't douse this flame in us,
It's insufficient to do us apart,
Lava in the veins is required.

For we live the life so like a coin,
Our lives are like two faces of one,
So we aren't worried any longer.
Both of us are like two inseparable but opposite faces of the same coin.

My HP Poem #855
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2013
Marriage with the ideal person you love,
Look after two cutest naughty little kids,
Remain happy with the love of your life.
My HP Poem #211
© Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Nov 2013
You will be greeted by me always with a conscience full of trust.
There will be me standing at the end of the dark tunnel holding a lantern full of rust.
You won't be disappointed with a meeting full of just lust.

This relation is more of a godly religion to me and as I think of it proudly puffed is my bust.
My devotion to my goddess is such that it will never be betrayed and never leave the must..

So mellow and so soft is our relation beneath its divine and strong crust...
My HP Poem #487
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jun 2014
Whenevel I clied hungly,
Chhe would give me milk.
Whenevel I do not dlink it,
Chhe will tly that I dlink it.
Whenevel I am chho angly,
Chhe will tly that I dlunk it.
Whenevel chhe loshesh hope,
Chhe will look at my papa.
My daddy will only shmile,
Lift shweetly in hiz armsh.

They would then shuksheed,
Togethel they enteltain me.
They dichhtract & feed me,
Milk I lyk not chho vely hot.
Twichhe they tly & I leject,
They sing me some lhymsh.
Mom then poulsh two dlops,
On back of hel hand chhe tlies.

'Tsch! It's hot,' chhe ekchclaims,
I let out a shmall shlieky laugh.
Daddy lent hel a helping hand,
He blung a khup of cold watel.
Finally they togethel feed me,
Calefully & lovingly they do it.
Whenevel I lemembel my lisp,
I am chho happy & smile bloadly.
In India, the tiny tots often have a cute lisp for many sounds like 'S' as 'Sh', or 'Sh' as 'Chh' or 'R' as 'L', and trust me it sounds so cute whenever their lisp is more prominent than what they actually have to speak. I used to lisp in my childhood. This poem is based on that memory.

My HP Poem #640
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Mar 2014
Your eyes would not ever get moistened,
Now just let me take all your pain away,
How much longer would you shove it in,
There is no place for tears in your eyes...

All your wishes and each of your desires,
They are all so tangy and sweet and sour,
Just wait until all the desires are fulfilled,
Do not worry dear such a day will come...
My HP Poem #579
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jul 2017
By Cognoscentus on June 11, 2017
Verified Purchase
Very gripping work of fiction, partly inspired by the authors own heroic journey of survival and triumph. Extremely well written. Real, yet creative.

Have a look:

I thank you for your words. I respect your privacy, dear Cognoscentus, but I would love to personally thank you for the compliments when we meet.

7 Seconds on the Kindle Reader application compatible devices like a Windows system or an Apple OS X or on Android or iOS devices.
Äŧül Dec 2012
I Saw Her In The Subway,
She Was Tall & Fair,
But Her Clothes Weren't.

I Saw Her Makeup Wearing Away Now,
She Had Her Clothes Damaged,
But She Was About To Say Some Words.

I Observed Her As She Stopped Her Sentence In The Midway,
She Recognized Me & I Recognized Her Too,
But I Walked On Without Being Dogged By My Past - The Angel Had Fallen.

I Discerned Over Going Back To Hold Her Hands Again,
She Needed To Be Helped By Someone Close,
But It Was Her Decision To Separate Our Ways - She Chose Disgrace.

I Agreed That Nobody Could Pull Her Out Now,
She Was Comfortable This Way Too,
But I Thought I Saw Her Eyes Glistening As She Passed With Another Customer.
Random Poem, Time Inspired
© Atul Kaushal
Äŧül May 2016
Blanked out parts of my old memory,
Meted out an alienating treatment,
Short-term loss of my memory,
Still undergoing treatment,
Collectively boycotting my soul,
They do their duty of progressing,
Irked they are by my apparent ease.

They follow their basic instinct.

I don't mind it for what my life is.

"A Different Kind Of Hell."

I was supposed to have died but I survived and am made to live here.
I avail few special facilities for the differently-abled because of my 42% physical disability after my serious road accident as categorically defined by the Indian medical authorities.

My classmates are a jealous lot who are jealous of my being in the middle of them.

My HP Poem #1069
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2015
And then he coincidentally fell on his back,
All were up perpendicularly each of his paws,
They put a nameplate to him,
It was just the word DOG inverted,
People had never seen anything like that,
They tried to assert what happened to him,
Someone said, **"The animal has gone back to GOD, the creator now."
My HP Poem #736
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Apr 2014
I fell asleep in the afternoon only for waking up to a pleasant dream,
I had a dream of a life without you my love mate but it was pleasant,
I was missing my mate so I sculpted a statue and it was resembling you,
I then put my wizardry skills to bring the statue to animation in real-time,
I spent all my life alongside you happily drinking the elixir of love.
My HP Poem #614
©Atul Kaushal
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