Started from ‘call your seniors sir’
these four years have been on roller coaster.
From never missing any lab or lecture,
to going online of entire semester.
From finding every face new in the corridor,
to opening of bottles behind every door.

Long lines running out of the cafeteria,
and now running wild on unemployment hysteria.
Myriad hours spent staring at laptops
and did I mention long boring workshops?
Bonds with eternal laughs and tears
some worth, some broken love affairs.

Timidly walking through the hallway of classrooms,
to bursting crackers inside bathrooms.
Don’t know about the insights on this way;
but guaranteed were new experiences every day.
All these years we had an August run,
or should I say four years of endless fun?

Curiously wandering in pursuit of new teams,
now running against time, chasing dreams.
These bolted doors are testimony to all the screams,
morphing to adulthood from our silly teens.
Unfearful moments strolling in the common hall,
and endless hours practicing basketball.

Cheers to everyone who was part of this journey,
opening up paths of limitless learning.
And some answers I’m still searching,
like who left that chair outside my room; burning!

She watches me with absolute curiosity,
wiggling around without generosity.
She acts like if she doesn't care
but who knows her inner shares.
Always ready to get around the place,
with her weeks seem like tiny days.

She's attracted by little things,
walking around with grainy links.
Laziness is all around her body,
Just as if nothingness taking some sortie.
She's like rain in famine drought,
every time I look her I'm out of words.

She's sometimes more human than us,
expressing feelings in such a burst.
She manages goals with utmost care,
for us humans it's not fair.
I think she has secret crush on rat,
Oh how much I love this pretty little cat.

This is my life's index,
plotted every point with precision
from birth, to when I used wax,
directory of every phase in incision.
Loathing salary & running from tax,
to every pity and doubtful decision
Riding bicycle, to using axe,
coming alive from great recession.
Days of reaching from phone to fax ,
using social media to show aggression,
Longest nights and tiny days to equinox
from avoiding people, to holding congression.
Brainstormed writing and printing docs
ideals failing timely, to quick successions,
from when we thought life came from Pandora's box ,
to realizing it was unworthy illusion.

Insomnia all night,
somniferous lectures all day.
Making plans all night,
running from them all day.
Aiming for heaven all night,
going through hell all day.

Kicking legs all night,
crossing them all day.
Gathering courage all night,
being timid all day.
Staying positive all night,
attracting negative all day.

Spreading truth all night,
riding on lies all day.
Loquacious all night,
acting introvert all day.
Living fullest all night,
dying slowly all day.

Do you ever feel low?
Like thread slitting into naked throat.
Do you ever lose hope?
like sand slipping out of hands, slow.
Do you ever feel feel anxious?
like water brimming from deep below.
Do you ever run out of thoughts?
like getting stranded in dreaded sand.
Do you ever get frustrated?
like being stuck in an unending maze.
Do you ever act paranoid?
like settling thoughts out of sync.

Yet you live out of all this wind,
you were tough and born to grind
Living like this is pretty tough,
But were you born to endure rough?
So wake up and start afresh
world is great but you needn't rush!

Sat down again to write ,
thoughts inside shinning really bright.
The words now begin to take flight,
expressing thoughts, or establishing their might.

Wandering thoughts all day long,
don't even know where they belong.
Residing inside for way too long,
finally coming out with this song.

Now, the words are at sight,
written all day, till night.
Scheduled things, everything's pretty tight,
things now seemingly going alright.

Yes, came out from this strong,
silly is being in it for so long.
Learned it from some song,
happiness lies in living young.

Do these words mean a thing?
Glutted such as from a king,
circulated around with certain tinge,
words like these flowing from brim.

Do these limitations make sense?
widespread and air around them tense,
waiting in line and desperate for turn,
empty stomach, feeling the burn.

Do these lines have any end?
All the way around the bend,
Standing inside circles and behind masks,
gloomy eyes, minding their tasks.

Do these circles unite us?
Balancing people around the truss
going by the schedule set by brain,
stagnant life, break the chain.

Yet, these words mean a lot
because these weren't jotted by a bot.
Yes, these lines will surely end
and these circles will perfectly blend.

I'm unable to compose great poems,
not capable of binding reader with language.
I cannot enlighten you with any sonnet,
But I write to lighten my heart's baggage.

I might not be able to reach big audiences,
often failing to impress single person.
I might not be able to remove certain nuisances,
But I write to express unison.

I cannot write responding to demand,
winding down thoughts to certain appeal.
I cannot give out feelings for remand,
But I write to fulfill my inner zeal.

I don't write to gather attention,
skilled people are worthy for that attire.
I don't have any apprehension,
But I write to accomplish hidden desire.

I write to sum up my thoughts,
trying to get better with every shot.
I write to water my heart's drought,
filling the squares with tidy knots.

What's your objective she asked?

I rolled back my eyes, certainly amazed,
questions like these can set anyone ablaze.
With certainties panning around our way,
the answers to such questions were always away.

Serving humanity is my ultimate objective?
Or rather serving myself a better alternative.
People will know me with great adjective?
Or rather call it a foolish motive.
Is answers to such questions subjective?
Or rather it's truly sedative.

Life certainly has no meaning?
Or rather it's embedded in little things.
Everybody appears to control their life's steering?
Or rather it's illusion of absolute strings.
Is is about earning more and building?
Or rather a dream about such feelings.

Are there more questions than answers?
Or rather answers are the questions.
People in the world are some kind of dancers?
Or rather everyone's waiting for such introductions.
Is the humanity about some freelancers?
Or rather some little interruptions.