A deep desire to say bye to irritation
Is a beautiful dream to bloom daily

Buy tickets, and go late
When the movie has moved on.
You know your thrill, too, has flowed.

Recharge your card,
Reshuffle your busy schedule
When it's India and Pakistan T20 final,
And reach home in a whisker
After some overs have been bowled.
Irritation will catch you
Like the cold in sheer winter.

Your bride is waiting at the door.
It's your first visit at her house.
You miss the bus, get on the auto,
And her smile is over.
As you meet her,
You say, sorry, sorry, sorry.

Getting late is swimming in troubles.
Waking up in the morning,
Not with the sunrise,
Is booking boredom, passivity,
And drinking Bisleri frustration
For the full day.

Maybe what I need
is to stay awake long enough
to watch the sunset again.
But don't pity me, please.
I'm just "lonely;"
It's the teacher I can always look up to.
It thickens the skin and deepens the thoughts.
It reminds me why I enjoy the sound
of a stranger's laugh,
and presses me to admit that
I miss being touched.
Lonely looks a lot like a harvested cotton field,
and if you inhale the air as you drive by,
you'd know exactly how to describe
the smell of neglect.
Lonely proclaims that something empty
is just as beautiful, because you can see through it;
it can only tell the truth.
Maybe what I need
is to stay awake long enough
to watch the sunset again;
to learn that its lonely goodnight
is the most beautiful painting
the whole world gets to witness.

trapped beneath a fitted rubber sheet
a lump in the mattress
suffocating on
rancid latex sweat
and yesterday's dried fluids

who were they
the nameless in the dark
this one smelled of popcorn
that on howled in delight

a collage of senseless noise
scented by cats and Ajax
leftovers always go bad

Chuck-will's-widow
in the tree by the window
it must be after midnight

though noon looks the same
in this cage that gives just enough
to torture with possibilities
of breaking free

freedom is overrated
roses stain glass
with the bloodletting
of thorny mishaps

blurred by smeared wounds
ain't life grand
when love ceases to be a goal

how can one find what is
utterly indefinable
if it cannot be decisively named
it cannot be concretely attained

then again, love's fluidity
is its charm
no hard edges
ebbing and flowing
elusive and longing

**** me latex blind
unseen and used
by those who never did mind
a lumpy mattress

Penning a poem on love
Is forgetting failure,
And fear of not forgetting
That feared the poet,
If he'd been the victim of veering
Of his long love.

Words don't work themselves,
They're pushed in the ring.

It needs courage to combat
The loss that lasts for many years,
And their shadows shun
Chances of a cool vibe.

Love poems are heroic.

I long to live in their minds
For such greatness.

Welcome notions from others,
Don't follow them,
If the mind doesn't say, yes.
Welcome criticism
for your work, words,
And when you advise one
for his welfare,
Don't react
if irritation creeps in and coils.
Welcome advice
after you don't perform
Or you're about to lose the game,
Don't stare at them
nor be peevish that time.
Welcome whatever they offer you
As they might be profitable for your present and future,
And because they might be better
in their approach,
And because their experience
might be worth applying,
And because they might have faced such severe situations,
And because the rain
brings bliss along with it.

Like the herd in a state of fury
The passengers had boarded
The compartment.

They're all heading with
Such a whirlpool mind, and
Regret rising.

Hush was a distant meteor.
Only imagination to catch it,
Then shaking.

A stout man in meditation
At the window. An infant swinging
With pushes.

Factory in. Peace in the fields
Of grains. A scythe in the hand,
Still snow.

Someone abused the other.
The culprit had coiled the passage.
Walking right.

Where're the leaders, ministers
And those who build promises?
Oh of dust.

Visit these places. Spend seconds.
An easy clicking of the life on the track.
Good sojourn.

Be the rosary in one's hand.
Be what you are actually!

Wear the moon on your body
Darkness will never affect your walking

Some people live purgatory lives;
they dance with the invitation
of death
just long enough
for the moment
to become romantic
then they usher the
entire idea
right out the door
as if being
friends
with the end
is an easy way
to pretend

they cannot
         go at any moment.

Some people chase
   the idea of death
so much
they forget to
do something
as simple
yet profound
as live.

We spend every day
repeating cycles
and trying to make
our routines
perfect
then remain
frustrated at

     everyone and ourselves

for not being able to get this fluctuating life right

yet-

I am learning that getting it right
takes doing it wrong
more than
quite a few
times

and

that is simply something neither you or I can be ashamed of.

We cannot substitute the lessons
that failure and patience bring us-
all we really can do is
face our hardships
with limited understanding
and obtain what we can
from our moments of misery.

I am finding more and more
         that myself
  lingers in those moments
and I am beginning to appreciate
the days
I spend
catching
       bleek
          & subtle
                     glimpses
           of what I can

become.

You see,
I used to fear my own presence.
Shake my head at my own sight.
Be disgusted with my thoughts
and ruin my existence.

I used to do all of these things because I felt
helpless.
I was not the person taking charge
      for my life.
I was not the person owning responsibility
for their actions.
I was not the person acting on their decisions
although the choices were petrifying.
I was not that kid because

I DID NOT YET UNDERSTAND WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF.

I had yet to find the opportunity in my failures.
I had yet to see the potential in my flaws.
I had yet to understand that there are twenty-four hours
in a single day
and we can own every single one of them
when we are not focused on defeat.

And that sounds a little extreme at first,
I know,
but if I can convince you of anything today-

please do not be afraid of change.

Welcome it with open arms and be prepared for
your entire life to get uncomfortable
when you start being honest with the world
and most importantly-
yourself.

I have let go of so much heartache
from no longer pretending I am okay.

I have let go of so much anxiety
from not allowing others to hold
their expectations over me.

I have let go of so much depression
from standing up for myself
because I was sick of the world
telling me NO.

I have let go of so much
useless negativity
and have said goodbye
to so many friends
and relatives
because
choosing compassion
over what they took from me
always kept me on
the better course;

a step ahead
when they were looking behind
and reflecting
by the time
they could realize
intuition wins.

but I guess depending on which way you are looking at it-
all of this is just bragging of course.

So I will never mind you
if you are not listening.

I will forgive you
when you come around.

BUT IF YOU ARE LISTENING LOUD,
HERE RIGHT NOW-

know that I am too.

And for every dream you are chasing-

    it is chasing after you.





Thank you.