Strange humour my Lord has.
Before giving me my life’s biggest grief,
He gave me a hilarious belief.
He made me wonder about life,
Like a squirrel grabbing a nut with her tiny fingers.
Life is anything beautiful, and for it,
Every species lingers.

I went to tell the stories of worldly adventure
To my beloved,
Who usually stayed on the bed.
Gets overwhelmed seeing the world through my eyes.
I loved my routine, felt nothing could be better than this.
I felt my beloved would stay,
The only one I believed would remain when anyone else could go.
Thy presence, I thought, would be forever present.

The Lord found that maybe I was not a good storyteller.
That’s why He took away my beloved,
To recite His best seller.
This is how humour turned to grief.
Shattered, here I stand with my story incomplete.

We all are stuck between reality and reverie.
That's why we take shelter
In art, fitness, and sometimes a brewery.

We all are stuck between right and wrong,
And miss listening to and doing what we really want.

We all are stuck between society and religion,
And that's what gives birth to a rebellion.

We all are stuck between stress and rest,
Thinking work is the only game—let’s detest.

Everybody has a different path.
We all are stuck between where to stop and where to start.

Life is like a marathon, not a race.
It's not important to rev it up,
Just maintain your peace,
Maintain your pace.

Things that I couldn't say...
Things that are still inside of me...
So many things to convey.
I will miss you till the end of May.
My thundering and raining nights
And my beaming summer days—
Misty spectacles—
Over my tear-dried eyes.
Deserted by my deceiving emotions.
Now, I don't remember my intent, my notion,
Displaying my dismay—
I will miss you till the end of May.
What's in May? You might wonder!
You will remember, if you push yourself a little.
If you ponder—
Last year, they were my most memorable days.
I will miss you till the end of May.
Fresh memories, wrapped in my joyful pain.
Yes, I am mad, and I am insane.
With whimsical heart, I was betrayed.
I will miss you till the end of May.

I saw someone in the library.
A face hiding itself in the books and writing something in the diary.
A fiction reading fiction.
Presence—the description is beyond diction.
A storylike fairy reading a book, scary
Holmes awakens in me,
Starting to solve an unasked mystery.
The case was complicated—
To write a synopsis of this story.
Yes! It's a writer's glory.

She looked up and down the shelf,
Thinking, searching, reading, and scratching her head,
Unable to find the novel that connects the thread.
Totally consumed, she was examining a book in red.
Ink stains on her fingernails
Told me she is a joyful writer, so why the disdain?
By a fluke, I got it right—she was searching for a story,
Sensitive and unique in kind.
But not found; efforts in vain—
"So should we write this story in real time?" I requested.

Who said angels don't dwell on earth?
I just found five of them:
One for the laugh,
One for the love,
One for the sadness,
One for the truth,
One for everything above.

I want to have them, Lord, please cut down the chase—
The chase of longings,
The chase of memories,
The chase of beauty,
The chase for peace.

For those angels and I share the same thirst.
Quench this thirst; show your image to us.

It's astonishing but also the truth—
Tear drops are like memory cards.
Every drop tells a story.
A story of an untold worry.
Longings flown out from our eyes
I guess they were in a hurry.

I have a story too — the one unpublished.
Yes! the same melancholy —
The one outspoken, out in public
In worldly whispers you will hear our name.
Every street and every corner knows our fame.
I will be your storyteller.
But I won't paint a vivid picture
'Cause I am intrinsically timid—
slyness is my feature.

The imagery, the context
Conjoined on a similar vertex.
Similar to your eyelashes — a horizon
Where sadness meets happiness,
Heart meets longings, and
Dreams meet reality.

Why do I feel like an empty vessel,
Like a soul caged in a dark, vast castle?
I shouted. I cried.
Yet the only sound I heard was my own voice.
Did I come here by my own choice?

For forgiveness, I plead,
Even for the path I did not lead.
Yes, I made choices—some were not right,
But does that make me guilty, the bearer of this outcry?
Or is it something else, yet to be finalized?

Is this a green room for gladiators,
Only to be vandalized?
What should I do with this vessel,
Once filled with passion and hustle?
Now, it is just an empty jar.
Should I break it—
And rise above the bar?

A deep dive in an ocean alive,
which hugs swimmers sweeping up the waves
— a water tribe.
Fishes, eels, and creatures massive.
Today, ocean is calm and not the usual—aggressive.
Looks like it has found the leisure within.
A real possession, delectable and obsessive.
Today, it reflects the sunglade like a golden rim.
A photograph rare,
capturing pinnacles fair—
translucent and regressive.

Honking house of light,
asking boats to row towards the right.
Did they find something stormy?
Oh! Now, watching this discomfort, my heart felt a bit light.
Strange, isn't it?
Is chaos his new delight?
Not even knowing about the rough,
without gauging his beats on my nerves,
he started pumping the adrenaline rush.

It was a whale—bigger in size.
I said to my heart,
“You are not a character of Moby ****
or Captain Hook.
Nothing would happen, don't try that tiny knife.”
The whale then took a jump high,
diving back from that serene sky—
back to the discomfort, taking a sigh.
Stupid heart, please don't even try.

It all started with a wrong name—
I fell for you before you fell for me,
On a dusky evening—
Perhaps Venus cast her spell,
Or maybe it was an acquaintance’s introduction.
A silent heart—a dead one,
Began its eruption.
Hey, this isn't a game—
I'm losing to my senses,
Crossing all sane fences.
I saw your soul;
It made me feel complete.
How to express myself further, I’m unsure.
You see me differently—
You gave me time,
You found my strength,
Disregarding the grapevine.
I don't know whether you'll ever accept this poor lad,
And thinking that you might not makes me sad.
Yet, inadvertently, my heart gives me hope
That we will climb this love rope.

I know I shouldn't do this rhyme
Howsoever, I won't stop my pen this time.
Do you know a girl who knows about both
Fun and duty?

She is the one who mentors beauty.
The one who gives creation - A new aviation.
The one who finds her strength in Innovation.
Is she the one with fierce red hair?
Yes! the one with an antique flair.
The one who is blunt in words but cares with action-
A new definition to the word attraction.

Just a FYI

The day she will read these lines
This world will record my pity, my fate.
A flimsy reaction of which—
IMDb's rating would be above eight.
I know if I dare these lines-
An Angelic face
And a soul divine

The girl I am talking about
Will blast me with a landmine

Still I will do—

Because I witnessed the best.
Oh! I rhymed it long.
My trembled fingers now should rest

The word is in the air
This world now adores
The fierce woman with red hair.

No words to write...
How should I express?
What feelings would suffice?
Tears and pain; now couldn't be healed.
When we suddenly found pieces of bullets and blood.
Served on a plate meant for Dal and rice.

In their ovens and woks.
They are now boiling hatred and false provoke.
The life-giving herbs are not real—
They are but camouflage of life ******* shrubs.

And what for?
for the call of Freedom which already prevailed.
Now, after this treacherous act,
Killing all innocents— now who would you hail?
You took away the city's soul —the prideful flair.
That day—when you washed off that sindoor.
And laid that coward's rattling snare—
a proclamation illegal and unfair.

Don't call yourself a human.
A human's job is to observe and care.
Don't call yourself a human
Don't you dare.

What does the trust say?

My rules are simple and threefold.
Take a deep breath, I will say the truth—
I won't be sneaky, I have nothing to hide.
There is nothing to hold.
Just ask me to go on to the mountain's peak and jump down.

Without a second thought, I'd leap.
Without scratching my crown.

You'd feel my adrenaline surge, that unyielding urge.
Even if I fail, I won't hold a grudge.

I will do it without any fear,
Without any utterance or a tear.

I have in you my tenacious faith.
I know, to us, defeat won't show his face.

With that belief in me, and belief in you,
My leap would be triumphant—
Just like the way, an ant killed an elephant—

It is not a reckless behaviour.
I know, you would be there to catch my fall, my saviour.

I was able to do it; not because of me
But because of you,
For I felt your soul's felicity — loud and clear.

Wavy heatwaves—
Hot yet dry wind touches your face
Chirping birds sitting in their cloudy nest.
Giggles and laughter of the kids.

Under the Beaming Sunglade—
Playing a game, clothes full of dirt
And shouting — peaking loud.
If you imagine this picture
Sitting in your office shade
That's the vision of summer vacation
A memory that never tends to fade.

Wearing chappals bigger than your feet
You felt gigantic,
Like you did a herculean deed.

A time when Imagination was a toy,
We all played with.
Rocketing a pencil with mom's hair band.
Fixed between our tiny fingers.

Having 2 Rupees in our pocket
Oh! That's a fair tip.

And our dad's tummy used to act like an airstrip
Where, us—the idiotic tiny tots— land their paper planes
We cracked jokes with him
Yes! I remember they all were very lame.

How strange it is!!
Today's introverts and extroverts
Back then we were all the same.
Shy, quiet, naughty
And with a little bit of might.

Working under this comforting conditioned air.
Disregarded—
Tell me—
Does it seem fair,
Why I still feel like that summer vacations were cool?
Tiny hands together in that breezy air.

One side of me says it's a lovely gesture.
Another says it's not.
Which one to believe ?
My mind is diminishing and it's beginning to rot.
About that gesture of silence.
Don't **** me with stillness
If you still, do want to **** me
you must **** by violence.
Hurricane inside me
About this notion-
Now, I ponder
They are getting strong.
Lasting little longer,
Like an ocean wave, They are getting stronger
I am unable to hold it any longer.
I am a peasant fighting a war.
Aggrieved victim who couldn't score.

When your brain stops braining,
And even your heart pauses to ponder,
The day keeps getting longer.

Then, in a sudden twist
Your ears catch a sly, playful bliss—
A sarcastic tone,
Five crazy souls laughing like a booming jukebox

"Oh, pleaseee!"
"Talk to my hand!"
"Stop triggering me!"

A Pride Month fan,
There stands friendship—
What a lovely mayhem!

Talking, chatting, teasing, and support,
Together, even if we land in hell,
It would be better than a heavenly abode.

A bond so strong,
Scattered far, yet together we stand.
Hope we keep it lifelong - A spellbound Span.

After a long working sphere,
I went on a walk with my colleague—
Just to breathe some atmosphere.

After walking a few stones—climbing a hill-like road,
We came across a fair, full of stalls:
Stalls selling books of fiction,
Memories-loaded diaries,
And something cute and funny—
Rumoured to be an addiction.

Oh! There was also a stall of sweet gummies,
Clothes and accessories for the ones
Who are necessary—

At one gleaming stall,
Which displayed unnatural jewels
And some items with timeless halt,
I found bangles—an unusual purchase—
For I am a bachelor, after all.

It was like an abrupt, mysterious case.
I don't know why I did that chase.

We looked foolishly over a shop selling light-up bunnies.
Restless, aimless—
We searched and explored every stall.
We went back to have more gummies.

Trying to find something—
Which could be our overpriced treasure,
So we could be appeased by others
In our next breaktime chit-chat.
We took every measure.

Our efforts went in vain
And without any gain.
With a gift without a receiver,
We went to our work—dull and plain.
Yet bangles still clinked in my brain.

An awakening message on a board,
A beaming spotlight on a grave note.
Aggressive yet subtle,
A paper scream a yell of pain - unknown.

A woman writer crafts fiction like reality,
Unmasking the lowliness of human mentality.
She writes something valiant and sensible,
Challenging the culture of overdoing—the unreasonable.

To build homes for those who seek finest of the fine,
Is it rational to destroy nature’s design?
Can’t they see what happened to other lands—
Barren and dry!

For the essence of fresh air, can’t they hear people's cry?
Greed instills demise without bloodshed.
If you cut the green,
Apologies from the heart—
You are not painting your city red.
You are not painting your city red!!

You always asked me to stay strong.
Not be afraid, if the things go wrong
I loved to irritate you with that silly song
Smile of your face kept my soul charged all day long.
I loved to be your kid and love it  still
It was hard to breathe for you I remember niche of the ticking clock.
Tick tock tick tock!!
How can I forget lord's gambling mill.
When mature kid's maturity suddenly bubbles
I hate being the bigger one.
Best I was small.
Holding your hands, just...that's all
I stand now where you are nowhere near me
Holding hands is just mere a scenery
Just a scenery.

Every night
It feels like a day
Cause I cannot sleep—
I dream of you with my open eyes.

Every night
That book on my bedside
Reads your name, reads your fame to me.
A timeless story
A classic of all time.

Every night
Earphones that connect my phone to my heart.
Play songs which celebrate you.

Every night
Empty roads in front of my house await you.

Every night
My sleep lingers to come,
Until it’s sure it will dream of you.

Every night...

What to Write About?
Should it be about you?
Or should it be me thinking about you?
Should it be about my sleepless nights?
Should it be about longing that will never cease?
Should it be about you holding my hand,
Or about you punching my shoulder after taking an adorable stance?
What to write about?
So much to say, yet too few words to convey.

What to write about?
The shawl wrapped around your neck that fuels my jealousy.
I tried to search for you across the galaxy.
Without your graceful soul,
My heart stands ablaze.
What to write about?
I sat with a dumb face.

I thought today, I won't think about you.
Here I am flooded with thoughts about you.
I thought today I won't sit near that door and wait for  you to pass by
Here I am, facing the same direction
I thought today, not to give you that note.
-The poem I wrote about you, how I feel about you.
Here I am, Holding  that note with me - in the book I read
How can I be both?
Exuberant and tired
I am tired by the longing
And exuberant by the love.
Here I am, this is me.
In madness- What sane people call it.
Will you believe if I say my love is real?
It is not surreal.
Not surreal...but real.
The difference- if you ask.
I can't tell.
Because while I am awake it's you on my mind.
Even in my sleep it's you everytime.
Vexed is nature, bored by my longings.
They now have started to tease me.
I thought today, I will find myself and stay strong.
Here I am- lost somewhere.
Gone for long.

The moves when you groove,
Like a spellbinding universe showing its moves.
Where the moon sings its sweetest songs,
And the stars twinkle to the beats along.

Glitters of the ballet—a surreal sight,
"Can I have a selfie?" asks the cloudy spectator.
"Hey! Don't fight," says the night,
As the Queen of Creativity glows with glamour.

Unveiling the best of herself,
Madness all over!! What a fervour!!!
I stand and watch,
Captivated by the spell.

Is this the tale of Cinderella?
No! Because it's real.
My dreams are no match, if I compare.
I practice your moves
Before sleeping at night—
In my old, broken lair.

I became a believer in stars,
The moon, and all that lights the sky,
Since the moment you said "Hi."
Scented flowers realized their duty—
They bloom for a goddess who graces them with beauty.
My thoughts know no leaps or bounds,
They pulse my heart, profound.
A walk beneath the night is my dream—
If you may, hand in hand, it would be a delight.
The magical words, I'd say like a knight.
I wish you’d approve, my highness,
What sweet slumber I'd find, thinking of all this night

Stick with your truth—
People will change eventually.
Don't ask for acceptance—
Stick to your facts firmly.

They will accept you as you.
But never by way of revolt and wrath.
Let your will stay humble and flourishing—
Stay with your ever-pulsing heart.
Stay with your experiences and desires.
For there would be some reason in you,
That God ignited that fire,
To let your wings fly higher.

Be it love, or in any other path.
Live your journey from the start.
Even if you fail to take a place in someone's heart.
Don't let the world inside of you fall apart.

Don't feel the burn.
Don't be afraid to bear those venomous flashes
Remember: Falcon always rises from its ashes.

Pain all over my senses.
Time—irrelevant.
I don't even remember the tenses.
Valour pierces me through their sentences.
Of all the odds, slim are my chances.

I survived the prior stage.
Life levels it up.
Now, it is a denser and darker cage,
Seems like a dead end.
Am I blinded by rage?

I published a vacancy for a brimming torch on paper.
Vacancy for a spirit keeper.
Trust—the only requirement,
Not to be tapered.

Apply if you have a heart.
Light within you is the only skill that will keep you on the job.
Payment would be love.
Sure, it will outlast.

What does the Music Say?

Listen to me, for I have a message for you—
Maybe to lift you up,
Or maybe to overwhelm your nerves,
Or maybe just for fun.

Hey! Listen to me slow,
Don't jump the gun.
I will always be on your list,
Notes and beats all entwined.
Whether a fistfight, romance,
Or something divine,
I am just a bliss of a different kind.

Deeply drenched in sadness,
Yes! So am I.
Facing the darkness, head to head,
Yes! So am I.

Asking questions to the highness—
Who am I?
Yes! So am I.

The one who stands firm despite the scorn and hate
Yes! So am I.
The one who'll rise back soon and he will not wait.
Yes! So am I.

The one who'll conquer treachery,
Yes! So am I.
The one who'll call "Game on!" to storms
That dare to pass.
Yes! So am I.

Proud son of a passionate father,
Who he named "Ami"
Yes! So am I.

Astrological stars aligned for me and you
Should I write what I feel for you—
A long essay or a three-word phrase?
Believe me, it’s not a fling and it’s not a phase.

Let’s cut down this chase.
I know you’ve been hurt before,
But I won’t let you down for sure.
I want just you...
And only you for sure...

Can you feel the cool breeze amid this scorching summer?
I know what you're thinking—
'Another love poem, what a ******!'
I’m certainly off the imagery,
For my creative senses are bounded by thoughts of you.

Oh! Love this slavery,
Like a knight gets rewarded for his bravery.
I’m unable to end this unending rhyme for sure.
I want you,
And only you for sure...

Traveling in this haunting noon.
Drenched in my own sweat.
I still step forward—
Just to see your face, a glimpse of you.
The distance between us.
Will come closer by each breath.

In my every travel, towards or a drift away for home.
I wait on you.
My chase, my fleeting race
My lifelong craze—
Whether up or down a phase
I long for you.
Now, my soul is for you
Every beat of my heart is for you.

Songs in the cab
Ads featured on my tab .
My every headline is you.

In the waiting hall of this airport
I watched readers, some whistling music listeners.
I heard some gossips — the untold whispers.
Still in every face I see you, I imagine you

For me, the girl listening to music on her pod is you
The guy reading the Alchemist is you.
The ******* the phone is you,
Picture ******* the water bottle is you,
The ******* my heart is you.

I bought a book called Dreamland.
To stay away for a bit from this notion—
From your wonderland.
I gulped a lemon tea like a potion.
But I couldn't stay away,
For in every word I read,
Is a word about you,
The ******* my heart is you.
The ******* my heart is you.

Being within or Being without.
Pouring in the *** or pouring out.
What is a thought?
This question blows my mind.
It is an over and out.

Do facts speak louder than fiction?
Or is it something that we just require for diction?
Writing it in verse or saying things with a face.
Can you describe your thought to me?
Choose your medium now; just bring it out.

Was an action — was thought, or it was the remedy.
What was it? Romance or comedy?

Ache of my head or an apple of my eye?
Is scientific and mathematical.
Why, what, and how to define.
What is a thought?
Can you explain it to me?
Why is it painful? — a quest or experience.
Why every time it brings a change to me?

Drenched in tears
I woke again in the middle of the night.
A warm hug with you—
Now I am left with agony, weeping high.
Is this justice... to feel all this?
Though don't you worry, just yet from the sky,
I would be fine... just gonna stay awake,
Say a little while,
Say till morning or till the clock strikes nine.

Do you feel this is good?
Happy dreams feel like I live in woods.
I am left with no wish,
Just a desire to confide.
Hope you would be fine with our almighty friend.
Convey my apologies, for if any, I breach the divine.

Is this a new test?
I don't find it reasoned enough
That you left, thinking I would take care of the rest.
You were the one who taught me all
And believed that I could climb that big wall.

Without you, everything seems meaningless to me.
Should I grunt?
Should I cry?
Without you, I can't even shut my eye.

Is this the right way to leave?
Yes! Lesson learned—I have to strive.
But without you on my cheering side,
Even if I win a mountain,
I won't be content.

I miss the pride I used to see in your shiny eyes.
There is a storm with no direction.
I wish for a possibility of resurrection.

What you perceive — I perceive it too.
What you receive — I receive it too.
What you feel — I feel it too.
What you hear — I hear that too.
I have everything. But I don't have you.

Does it feel like we are a thousand miles away?
It's been days since I last saw you.
I do know what you have been through.
But still, blurred visions turn my heart grey.
Am I worthy? Will you stay?

Shallowness has deepened its roots in me.
I don't know what shall I do.
In this crowded world — without you.
There is nothing new.

I don't even remember, How longing feels like.
I don't even remember how alone I was, that night.
You freed me up in the air like a loose kite.
You must not bother this rhyme.
Just pouring my heart—
I am already out of sight.

Sitting alone over an uncomfortable chair.
I really felt that day — is life really unfair?
Lotus — an abode of supreme, a symbol of beauty.
Dream itself to be in an orchid of lily.
Is it about expectations and perspective?
Why do we have such thoughts?
Are we flawed, unwilling to find our perspective?
Without being incomplete, insolent, abstract, or a nuisance,
To be full of pride — do we really need to lose our innocence?
I wondered this thought all this thundering night,
Swayed and pursued on a different side of my might.
Will the sun only shine around darkness?
I questioned my own definition of valour and of a knight.
This unanswered quest still wakes me up every night...

Switching on and off the night lamp.
The hanging light—doing up the calling dance.
Wrapped in my blanket, my thoughts took a stance.
Taking turns from one side to another.
Hallucinating an image of you
Warms up the weather.

Sleep is away, maybe gone for good.
I just see you all around.
Standing up and on the ground,
Am I blushing under the hood?

The revolving fan up the ceiling
Shares with me—the wind.
The wind of an awakening dream,
Like a video of a live stream.

Serene outwardly,
But I feel a raging storm inside—
Contemplating reasons—side to side.
Why did you draw yourself away?
Why do you always shut me down?
I have no insight in my crown.

Just over a thin-layered hope,
I still long for you.
Will we meet again?
My head frowns.

If Shorter messages have deeper meanings
Then silence would be the ocean of reasoning
And ignorance would be a bliss.
I found me in you and you in me.
Avoidance - avoided.
Blessings are becoming mischief.

I don't know what it is—
This path I walk now.
Where it leads, I cannot tell.
Destiny is inevitable,
No matter how far it may be.

I stopped—
Forming opinions,
Passing decrees
On what I see.

For a toddler, sitting on her lap,
Yawning, snapping, and giggling,
Googling his unaware eyes all around,
Just seeking the attention of whoever surrounds him,
Taught me something different.

Sometimes, being oblivious to the world
Is a gift.
It is a bliss to be indifferent.

Everytime you give me a new song.
A tune - unheard
Unwinding my tangled nerves.
Beats conjuring through their magical verse
The music of heavenly earth.
Butterflies singing in chorus.
Styled flowers performing the lead.
Under the canopy of the piano leaves.
Farm animals playing the violin
A Sonata of relief.
Moon is the curator-
And trees are on guitar
Our twinkling star playing mandolin
Birds -singing their tweet from afar.
A moment gloomy or a moment of shine.
You take me back to our best musical time

Did you ever look up at the sky?
The silver clouds hold the rain.
They will pour it for a reason
And grace the land,
Washing away every stain.

For a reason above reasoning,
The one seasoned with your name.
So let the rain tell your story—
There is no shame.

The whole of your life, we chase that dime,
And in that chase, indeed, we lose the people—prime.
Are you looking up like me,
Maybe from your balcony?

Oh! You found flowers down on the ground—
Yellow petals of some fallen flower.
The rain brings a message of this time
And asks me not to lose you,
Affirmed by the legion of the wine.

I may have stepped on my own rake.
I was trying to sow a seed of love in your land.
I giggle, I wonder.
By this act—so sly—
which raises a question: a why?
A why! Which seems to be an answer.
An answer for the feeling caused on that day,
when you said, "Hi."

An unconditional clause; always leading my breath to take a pause.
Without an audience and without an act,
am I a mad artist?
What are these applauses?
What is this pact?
Like a patient in an asylum, I react.
You pledged, "When you find your love, your 'ishq,' you won't leave it."
I have already found you.
When will you find me?
A relinquishment, a wish.

What does the Diary Say?
I am your uncalled thoughts,
Your theory of unspoken why's and what's.
I am your pain; I am your heart,
A story of your mindful seed.
From your mourns to the moments — the ones upbeat,
Your rhythm, your pulse, your time, your verse.
I am a custodian of time.
I record your fiery and the incident-weary.
That's the reason you always say —
"I am your diary."
The "Dear Diary".

Excruciating thoughts are all over me.
My ache, my earnest love.
You... will you walk with me?

A walk where our quietness converses with the night stars,
And we — we will revel in each other's grace for hours.

A sleep that I dream of —
My head on your lap.
I want to spend my life away from this dismay.

If you allow, I want to hear your stories,
Your fables, your poems — till my last breath.
Till my last day.

My brain is done with its braining.
From all around us, I see leaves whistling.
This barren earth found its love.
Yes! It is raining.

My struggle, my shrugged hurdles —
All have now been washed away.

Should I tell you the truth?
Should I say?
You already know me.
I am standing here with my strangled nerves.

Unwind me, or I will fray.
Or I will fray.

A thought that waved through me.
As those sea animals sailing in that pond,
woe returned to me—
My perched state upon that tree.
Apart from my loneliness —which was on a spree.
I talked my world to the beings with no voices.
'Brurr brurr' was the only answer,
But with sound reasons and no noises.

I tried to calm myself, Iike water does.
Just listening to the hisses,
Which gills do.
I asked questions which were fishy gibberish.
The fishes replied to me,"Do you even know English?
The lost is gone but through hope it can be found.
Treasure those memories even if you don't feel like sticking around.
For those reverend moments,
Are part of your fate, your destiny—

Your living story is just a dot in this universe.
Maybe you used to be a romeo either in past or in any other multiverse.
A Romeo of dreams.
A Lover boy...
And an idiot who talks to nature.
Was it a fleeting or a misadventure?

Talkative fishes now, swam to the other side.
Leaving me alone with my story.
But with hope towards that bright light.
Little more gibberish
Little more garbage.
will you write with me?

For the moments that own me,
For the moments — away from my game zone.
I will stand against you;
Against this screeching moan.
I am done with your noises,
I am done being atoned.
I have a designated path.
I've now understood that I have to walk alone.
Many events have scarred my back—

Like a tree with withered shingles of age.
One can see the blame and the shame.
Without me to err, this world shuns my name.

I am resolute, I am resolve—
I am now up and above,
Away from this untuned world’s jingles,
Away from anything that twinkles.

Shimmers and the shine—
I don't owe them a penny or a dime.
I owe myself to the rhythm divine.
I am determined.
I will make my comeback,
Piercing the veil, breaking the shackles.

This world will celebrate me with booming crackers.
Yes — with booming crackers.

Forgive me for my thoughts,
For they were not kind.
Forgive me for my words,
For they were not true.
Forgive me for my actions,
For they hurt you, though I never meant to.

Forgive me for my dance,
For I learned it for you but never got to show.
Forgive me for my art,
For it was inspired by you when I should have let it go.
Forgive me for my music,
For its tune bound our hearts, yet it made you cry.
Forgive me for my heart,
For it beats only for you—day and night.

Mocking that chandelier up in the sky.
He was also hanging lonely like me—
Knowing that,
We gave each other high five!

Disgusting the concept of love and longings.
We both were losers, half trained players
Who now live in disguise.

Perched on a tree like birds do—
I was sitting near that pond.
Being the best critics for every dove couple.
In that cafe, they were sharing their feelings all along.

Looking at those fishes,
Before starting my rantings that I learnt by heart.
A fish yelled at me, hey! You idiot, What's wrong?
Surprised and confused—
I lost my expressions
I lost my fuse
Whether I felt disgust or in awe?
What was that outlaw?

Then she asked, "Are love poems meant to be hidden?
Then why are they supposed to be written?.
A sudden thought popped up in her mind.
Why do you hide your thoughts from me?
There is a fault in your design

Maybe it is just you, not them
Who lives in his own false notion.
You are a victim of your own dreams.
You're totally out of proportion.

Love is a game of divinity,
Just out of brevity.
Let me define— it is a game of giving it all.
Not to receive.
It is not a post to resign.
It is not a post to resign."

What does the dream say?

I come to you to fulfill you.
How would you fulfill me?
That's the question.
What to do?

Think of me as your companion,
Pushing you out of the pavilion —
The rebellion —
Who keeps your nights awake.
Who shakes you and makes you race —

It could be a stage.
It could be a phase.
It could be an emotion that longs with your age.
I reside in you — your soul's purpose,
A dreamer's quest,
A worthy challenger to test.
Till you achieve it, take no rest.

Own each and every fight.
May you achieve all new heights.

I have no fear in saying my heart's will.
But will honour whatever is there in your heart still.
The question you asked.
I tried to answer them upon your request.
To the best

Why do you say flowers have fragrance?

It's a scent of a memory that one feels reverie.
A mark of identity to your soul.
Or maybe just a gesture to attract you.
A touch by you enhance their beauty as whole.

Why do you say colors have hues?

Cause in life you need a purpose or a goal
Imagining I connect to you for your golden heart as a purest soul.


Why do you say sounds have melodies

Melodies are messages of the almighty's Rhythm divine.
Nourishing your peace, positivity.
Have a believe in his design.

Why do you say dreams have meanings?

My dreams  have meaning for they have - you in it.
I disbelief any misfit.

Maybe My heart is just a beautiful illusion!"
But What if it is true..
Only one way to revelation.

I meet beings with twirled tails.
One with fox-like eyes,
Another wiggling his child-like tail.

Without a language—
They conversed with me heart to heart.
I met beings who were really smart.
Strangely, I understand everything,
While they only used the word 'bark'.

Happy and spiritual,
They are closer to God
Without performing any pompous rituals.

They hide themselves under the canopy of a greenish light.
They look different but don't judge—
Not measuring and fixing each other's right.

Unlike humans—the man of science,
Who spend years to create languages,
Still can't express their love or their pain.
How do they do it?
Gasping your temperament,
They read between the lines!

These four-legged, chirping beings,
Waggling their googly eyes.
Wearing an identity collar—
A free breed, indeed.
Joyous always,
Non-believers of caste and creed.

They live life carefree—with or without shelter.
I know it now,
Why people name their dog—Dr. Watson or Walter.

Tuning the forks.
Taping up the notes.
Strumming the rhythm,
Playing the tune of an unknown melody—
All night long,
A simple song.

Raising the pitch in harmony— a humming voice.
Using chords to stay away from my own mental noise.
Ravishing words, heart-wrenching lyrics,
Soothing rhyme.
Not just about the worldly vine, but it is something divine.

A looping symphony that
Binds strangers’ hearts,
Maybe by verses in the middle or the prelude—the start.

It unifies both the weary and the strong,
Something like patriotism—
Everyone feels the same for a song.

Love, quotes, and fables,
Passing through all ears.
Language, art, or magic—
Call it what you will.

Whenever I play my six strings,
I sway, lost in time,
I sway, forever.
passing  through all ears.
Language, art or magic you call it what so ever.
Whenever I play my six strings-
I sway, lost in time
I sway, forever.