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Mar 2019 · 755
aster Mar 2019
You made a cage out of
your rules and your ideals.
You picked me up
and you locked me in it.
I’m caged.
I’m slaved.
And I’m lost.


You can cage my body,
not my thoughts.
You can dictate my actions,
but you can’t manipulate my mind.
You can exert harass my body,
but you can’t compel my soul.

Your cage can’t tame this free spirit.
Your cage is too small for these huge wings.
So, I will break free
and fly into the open.
And I will Fly high
as high my dreams go.
And before you know,
I would already be flying way high for you to reach.

Finally, the cage is broken.
I’m free.
I’m alive.
*And I’m Un-Caged
You can never cage my soul.
Jan 2019 · 377
aster Jan 2019
The darkness was closing in.
It has spread its waves infinitely,
devouring everything on its way.
None is spared.
All are lost to the inevitable hands of death.

No mercy is shown.
Men, Women,
Children, Aged,
Fathers, Mothers,
Sisters, Brothers,
Lovers, Haters….
All are lost.

Everything perishes as
Chaos takes its stroll,
riding on the cart pulled
by a man’s ego and hatred.

The world turns dark and gloomy.
Smoke fills the air.
I’m blinded.
Not by the smoke, but by the sight of the destruction,
The violence,
The vengeance,
The hatred.

I have lost hearing.
Not by the war cries, the gunshots or the bombards,
but by the sounds of shrieks of men and women,
Their cries for help,
The wailing babies,
The crying orphans, widows,
and many to whom everything is lost.
But most importantly, by the silence of the dead.

I have heard their shrieks,
I can feel their pain.
Their trauma, their plight, their sorrow.
Yet, I have not felt it.

I can see the destruction. The deaths
and many who live a life only because they can’t die.
I feel the tears in their eyes, the ache in their hearts
And the wounds in the mind, that will forever pain.
Yet, I have not felt it.

Men fight such endless wars.
only to see that no one is really victorious.
The only people who win are-
Chaos And her brother death.

So, when men fight in the name
Of nothing but their ego,
In reality it is they who lose.
But we are HUMANS TOO.
Love all.
love not war.
embrace the differences.
Jan 2019 · 71
Mind Games.
aster Jan 2019
Our mind is a constant war zone.
We question our thoughts,
our actions,
our past,
our present,
our future.

We wage wars with ourselves.
We despise ourselves.
We compare ourselves to others.
We put ourselves down.
We let the pressure get to us.
We conflict with ourselves to obtain our deepest and darkest desires.

But do we really have to?
Why do we hate ourselves?
How is comparing yourself to them, going to change you?
Has everything got to be perfect?
Is everyone perfect?
Isn’t this your life to live?

Think again.
And remember,
Your imperfections make you- You.

So, keep living happily and in the end it will happen.
Jan 2019 · 75
Storm in the forest.
aster Jan 2019
Sometimes, it feels like I’m stuck in a deep forest of thoughts,
trapped deep in the woods for eternity,
never to see humanity or its ferocity again.
But then, I find myself in the open streets lost and out of sight,
yet noticed for being different.

I hear the thunder triumph its own arrival,
I see the lightning flash its own creation.
I can smell the coldness, feel the danger in the atmosphere,
it’s pouring again. Is it going to happen again?
maybe this time, it’s my calling too....  

It's dusk and it's raining, why do I feel so sentimental right now?
I'm worried,
I think too much of the future,
I think too much of what others will say?
what they will think?
what would my answers be?
shall I be able to prove them wrong.

But I try to forget the consequences,
try to think about being happy at the moment.
Yet, I keep pondering about everything that is ahead of me, it worries me and makes me question my own existence.            

It's turning dark, the storm is coming.
Now it it's time to either stand-up and face the challenges ahead
or to run away and take shelter to protect yourself from danger,
either way the decision will be yours.... cause this is 'your" life.
Jan 2019 · 81
aster Jan 2019
With the dusking
the vast sky was blue,
bright, warm and lovely....

But as time ticked
it turned yellow-
dark, cold.
It woke the poet in me,
it got me untangled
from my daily sorrows
into an emotional mess
of never ending questions
and contemplations.

And then it turns orange,
like the amber,
there is passion,
there is rage,
and there is love-
it's strong...

but it gets darker,
And then turns red,
it turns evil,
full of vengeance in its heart,
it motivates me,
it makes me sick,
but still inspires to
keep pushing myself....

Now it's purple,
and cold.

is this how life is?

I don’t know.

But then it's all black.

It's the same soul,
only it's physical embodiments
differ with time.

All those emotions lie with in you.
You are your
source of

close your eyes.

feel the silence
feel the coldness
feel the darkness
and open them,
it's bright blue again!!

That's how life is.
It's dusked.
life is colorful.
Jan 2019 · 70
aster Jan 2019
And one day, I finally had enough of it.

On that day my soul grew psyche
biasing and biasing with my shapelessness-
when I was subjected to mankind’s condemnation.
Ah, distinctly I was desiring,
a new look, a new touch
a new feel of joy.

So, I screamed.
I ran
and I shut myself in.

Yet, when I was left alone;
rather when I isolated myself,
I realized, I’m fine
My curves - fine
My brown hair - fine
My miniature eyes - fine
I learned to accept myself.

And then, when people began opposing me,
Questioning my aspects,
I had enough,
I wasn’t going back again.

I began to love myself,
My body is not just fine,
I’m beautiful,
I ‘ve a creative mind,
and a blissful soul.
My imperfections
make me perfect.

Only I can be me.
No one else can replicate
the contemplated
complications I represent.
I'm one in seven billion.
And I'm both proud
and humble about it.

I’m blessed with things
Others don’t have.
Why should I reject my own gifts?
I  love myself.


I  may not be
“beautiful” to many who define
“beauty” in the lines
of outer beauty of the physique
and masculine embodiments
established by a societal norms
of antiquity.

But let me tell you….
And so are you.

Love yourself,
cause you are
and indeed-
//Growing up as a kid,
I did have insecurities
regarding my body image,
thanks to a whole bunch
of relatives,
and random people of our society//
Jan 2019 · 62
Sun Kissed.
aster Jan 2019
Sun Kissed.

The path ahead
swerves indefinitely.
I stand there,
lost in thoughts.

I'm told that
I can not take this journey alone.
I have been told that
I have a 'companion' to guide-
to success.

So, even when everyone leaves,
I stand there waiting for them.

Ten seconds,
fifteen minutes,
an hour,
two days,
a week,
three months.

Time pass.
Weather changes.
People leave.

Yet, I stand there,
All alone.

I can't do this anymore.
But I don't want to break their trust.
So, I start to walk-
Even though, they might not be
part of the whole journey,
at least I can join them for the rest of it.

As I walk,
I feel the beauty around me.
The clear sky is covered
with bright green leaves
of the tall trees
winding along my
unknown path.

The peeking sunlight kisses
my cheeks,
and the cool, gentle wind
rustles through my hair.
I find peace .

I can see people
rushing past.

They run along the path
but I walk along
the silent side lanes.
I turn back to look.
Still no one.

My conscience won't put me
to rest.
I quicken my pace,
while thoughts flood in me.

I  wonder if they will still come?
What if I'm wasting my time?
What if I don't reach there?

I push aside these thoughts.

I look around.



The sun-
soft, it's rays
peeking through
the tree leaves.

The wind-
cool, whistles a merry tale
of the past as it gently
rushes past me.

I want time to pause,
I want to cherish
this moment forever.

This is bliss.

But I can't stop for long.
I have to win.
I can't wait for anyone.
This is my fight.
I need to this on my own.

I look around.

Sun kissed,
I run,
I run to my freedom.
Jan 2019 · 102
aster Jan 2019
The ink shall always bolt onto the pages of mankind,
if not through me,
then through another.
I’m nothing but another Aster,
another medium for nature to inspire.

My heart is not mine.
My words are not mine.
The ink that flows from within, isn’t mine.
It’s hers.
And to her, shall I be forever obligated.

I’m neither the beginning,
nor am I the end.
I’m transitory, limited and imperfect.
But the ink will flow for an eternity.
To all the future Asters,

let it flow!
Jan 2019 · 55
aster Jan 2019
· Perception ·

All that is dark is not gloomy,
All that is bright is not necessarily light.
All that you hear is not true,
All that you see is not factual.

I cannot help but stop and look at the cold moon.
A moon is intense, a moon is inhumane,
It is dark and mysterious.
Yet, a moon is perfect.

The hazy daylight sings like an outdoor air
Are you upset by how faint it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the daylight so addled?
Are you afraid, that everything that you have learned,
Till now was never the veracity.
That your life has lost its connotation?

Yet now you are conflicting
The dusk, when it’s so definite
Questions the integrity of your own morals.
Thus, life takes a different road,
Yet the destination is the same.
It’s the perception that varies,
The truth is the equivalent.

Your ideals and his,
His thoughts and her,
They maybe same they me be different.
But everyone is real
So, learn to accept
And respect
‘Cause it’s our perception.
Both dawn and dusk are beginnings.
Jan 2019 · 211
aster Jan 2019

I fall,
I knew eventually
I would fall.
But I didn’t want to,
at least not now.
I may say
I don’t ‘give a f about
what society thinks about me.’

But deep down,
I seek for attention.
I want validation.
I want respect.
I want to be accepted and loved,
And looked upon.

But this is tough.
I don’t know how long,
I can do this.
Sadly, we are taught this is the only

Because success is never defined by you.
The society defines your success.
You are a pawn.
The game, your moves, the result,
Is set by them.


I’m in a state of dilemma
One preaches,
‘These minuscule bits of time
Which are smaller than a molecule in
The entire expanse of this ever-expanding universe.
Can’t determine your entire future.
Nor can the society.
Your success, your happiness
Is defined by you, not them.’

The other reminds me,
that your success is defined
by the society you live in.
And to them this is the ‘only way’ to success.
And defying them
Is losing your
And you can’t afford that.


However, hypocritical I might sound,
I’m forced to choose the second.
But every passing second
I live with the guilt of never
Choosing the other road.
Cause the road not taken,
was perhaps the road I was to take.


Focus, time is slipping away.
So, I stop contemplating
and work mechanically.
Finally, it is over.
A sigh of relief.

But unfortunately, this is not the end.
Once you let yourself in to this system.
Then you are lost to it.
You are consumed by it
you are enslaved.


Take rest for now.
Because you are trapped,
They have fabricated your journey to ‘happiness’,
And you can’t turn back.


Eyes shut.

Pen drops.

what starts will eventually end.
Jan 2019 · 37
aster Jan 2019
Deep into that darkness seasoning
And the dusk closing
Suddenly, I heard some questioning
I am shorn of my reasoning
While I pondered, searching and unquestioning.

The investigational idea instancing within
I threw my assumptions upon the floor
It threw its ghost against the walls.
I couldn’t comprehend the fact
That I was a mere human
Made of blood and bones,
And an expiry tag.
The reality sinks in;
It’s deep,
But it is the truth.

I was a fiction and you a consideration,
I was a writer and you a myth.
And the doubts never quizzing
Involving and involving with my facts
And then stepped an indisputable 'conclusion'
Neither me nor you are real,
We are nothing but works of nature
Medium of its utterance
And a passage for its thoughts.
For time immortal, her ideals
Shall be immortalized
While we perish in transience.

I came with an obligation to my mother
And I leave with its fulfillment.
Rest are the stories of the poet.

To me, to you
Let us live in conscience,
And enjoy the indefinite moments of our life.
nothing lasts, but the eternal brilliance of nature.

— The End —