On fine morning, when Sun was yawning with its red-sleep deprived eyes,
complaining about the longer work hours in the summer,
Mama Paddy plant saw its shoots with tender husk,
she knew it’s time for baby rice grains,
The farmer turned on the motor and water sipped into the field,
He was satisfied that this year he will have a good yield.
Water walked over the soil and across the plants congratulating all the pregnant ladies in the paddy field,
of course showing off her experience in rearing lives not just in the farm but across the breeds.

After a few weeks Mama Paddy started training the kids,
Among the kids was Goldy who pondered how the world looked beyond the field.
In the night when wind blew lightly it played the most melodious lullaby,
Mama paddy would tell the kids that we all have our own journey,
some will grow to produce more grains, some feed the hungry and bring smile on their face,
We all have a role to play in the world, to lessen someone’s suffering.
Goldy looked around at the field and then asked, “How will I know what my purpose is?”
The wind blew harder and said, “I blow in the dessert, I blow with the tide, I push the cloud to the fields, I breeze the summer night, not always things are in my control but when I can, I try to ease.”
Mama Paddy nodded with the wind and then added, “Goldy, accept the way life comes at you and have a good heart, you will find your purpose and you will do your part”

As the Sun in his surveillance drone looked longer at the green, the wind would lighten and run faster in the fields.
Mama Paddy grew golden as she was growing old, the farmer was happy that he will harvest soon.
When she heard the sound of the tractor, she told the kids that its the beginning of their journey and end of hers.
Before kids could comprehend what she said, the tractor ran over the plant and the kids found themselves in a sack.
The grains didn’t know what was coming but Goldy held his  siblings together.
They stayed in the dark for days but they knew they were together and remembered what the mother said.
One morning farmer came back and loaded the sac into two smaller bags and Goldy was separated from his siblings.

Loaded in a truck, Goldy watched the sun from the gaps in the sack,
Sun was thinking about the countless separations he has encountered so far,
The wind caught up with the truck as it passed through the country roads,
A companion in disguise is better than reaping happiness alone.
One two and three, days passed like seasons, but Goldy was on his journey, hoping that he will find the reason,
He passed by the land of greens where sapling cheered his way,
as the soil turned red, he saw some monks in the shape of rocks, finding peace in barren lands is like finding shade in the cracks, it doesn’t last for long but nonetheless, it takes your mind off for a while,
As Goldy passed through the cities, he wondered how people patiently waited in the traffic, he was amused how humans were like paddy and roads like the fields.

Goldy reached a godown and from there to a house, he watched the kids going around the mother and remembered what he has left behind.
He waited for days and enjoyed the daily tv shows,  soon the day came when he knew it’s his turn.

In a vessel he was united with water who told him that he will feed a hungry.
Goldy was happy that he will meet his goal, soon the wind joined in the vessel and Goldy was cooked.
He found himself in a plate as the human was picking rice with spoon and fork, grabbing his neighbours into his mouth.
Goldy was hopeful that his purpose will be fulfilled.
He watched as the human ate the rest, but little did Goldy knew that he will be thrown in the waste.
Goldy ran down the gutter and his life turned upside down,
everything was smelly and dark and he was rotting and drowning while waiting for the end.
He waited, waited for the rain to show him the light again, waited for the wind to find him and blow him away,
Waited for his purpose to be fulfilled.
But in reality not every life meets its dream, he was left to rot in the gutter not because it was his destiny but because the spoon and fork didn’t grab him.
Silly spoon, silly fork, they are to be blamed but they were the puppet in the hands of the human grabbing them.
It was the human who didn’t connect with the food in his plate,
he didn’t realise the journey of rice, water, wind, sun and the farmer,
he didn’t realise the drying tears of the ground who is trying to feed the world,
he didn’t realise how much we all long for fulfilment of our purpose in this world.

You can't hear the words I say,
I have failed,
I have failed as your soul's handwriting when I stopped understanding you,
I have failed...as a friend when I left you on your own in the silence of the crowd,
I am poor with routes so every crossroad is a decision,
I want to come back to the start,
Show me the way,
Let's start from 'hey?'

You said from your ideal self
i heard from the real you
its a tale of the time when
the imperfect me met the imperfect you

Your fingers swirling stars,
you turn back when you want to whine,
your feeble likes and strong dislikes,
moving castle is your favourite story,
Rick and morty i have never watched but heard enough
to hold a talk,
random cartoons dose takes me high,
kiss smileys every morning and every night.

Gokarna, bijapur, karwar, veenu, manipal,
are few places I can count
an endless list of lab tours and
campus walks are not to be forgotten…fading is inevitably bound
I never told you that sometimes I walk behind you to know how it feels,
when you move on, far away from me.

After long notes and longer nights,
I am writing with the fewer words that I can find.
That street I pass every night knows I am hurt,
I scream your name with all my broken parts,
They say its a phase but I know its a ‘scar’,
only you can heal it with your gaze and touch.

I wonder how your smile has changed over the phone calls,
your breathe is all i know,
Its been long since I felt it, before I was caught in the right and the wrong.
Moral correctness is morally flawed,
because it listens to the stories of knightly mountains,
not the thin brook flowing down its bleeding rocks.

I am a burning candle who lights you when around,
but now you are gone I stand burning endlessly
I want you to cry, cry in my arms while my tears run down your neck,
silence be broken with pain and sorrow,
till the room is filled with smoke and the candle dies,
With the fading weep and drying tears darkness spreads in the world,
let the Gods above know that we have broken apart.