When I return from the field
And you open the door
Drink me some sips of thy love
Dipped into your smile
And let the world know
That smiles are the boost
To energise the tired mind

Every mobile screen
behaves like a daffodil
The moment a poem
Appears in a pretty dress
And both the palms get wet
With its fragrance

Rescue the bees,
Your true friends
Which toil and toil
For your health
And maintain
your own character
And be the bee

At sunset,
Slow footfalls
On yellow leaves,
And the breeze
Trying to take out
One of them,
Isn't just walking
It's like climbing clouds
Holding the rope of stars

A great misfortune
For those
Who have sharp minds
But no hearts for the books

To read a book
You not need
Heavy hands,
Knife or dagger

A friendship-feelings is the key

The rain,
If comes out of blue,
Especially during hot days,
Is more than the arrival
Of girlfriend without information
Without any promise

Onlookers have a look at the space
And says it's crowded
While the intelligent goes deep, finds his place and then walk comfortably

Shake off the blanket of depression
You're a staggering talent
How superbly you can shock the world
Just wait
Time is a bit late
May be he is helping someone somewhere
He favours those
Who prefers silence
Tomorrow is your achievement
Don't squander today
By losing hope
Or thinking it's over
talent is a topaz
Keep it bright
Remember
Any precious stone
Never goes unheeded

Of someone is silent
He isn't timid

But he knows
How to win silently

Grow
Eating goodness

And let others
Eat your fruits

All are busy
Typing false feelings
On their screens

Get in
Let us feel the warmth
Of our smouldering love

Everything is fog
Only love is green

In this age
When bones are flesh
Shoes, Slippers, skin,
Everything is loose
In the core of heart
One thing remains

Ambition

To look at your portrait
To feel freedom
Of loving you with eyes

Loving you
With changing time

Someone said summer afternoon is dull, drab and dreary.
Someone said summer afternoon is dull, drab and dreary

A. Grasshopper swimming over the golden grains said

It's a fascinating feast, the beauty of shiny sunflowers
It's a tap of enthusiasm, a nursery of bride butterflies.

Standing on the hill
And watching the sea
Is a page of the book
By a great writer

Somewhere
A place is unoccupied for you
If you don't remove your laziness
It's going to be taken by someone else

The harrowing obligation is done.
Everyone has left him to his fate.
But for those sunk in grim gloom,
Some chew paan, some smoke,
While other keep their tongues
Rotating on fun and laghuter.
On the way they halt for cuppa,
Or jalebi or to shave their stubble.
What about his interview? Nobody
Knows and no one will know, never.

Through the curtains moving sideways
At the touch of the circling of ceiling fan
The pointed rays make their way to my face
It's stillness of words soundly sleeping on lips
I'm awake weaving my thoughts
To accomplish what I had dreamt of at dawn
Prior to the imminent dusk descending

The moon shines within me
But your eyes watch only fog

Every idea has something to offer
For it's gold dug out from the coalmine
Of mind and it's the foundation
Of greater success
Only one has to care of using it

Birthday is a reminder
That one has been blessed with life,
Worth living, and one needs to make it as beautiful as it has been designed to be

Alone, I stand,
looking into the face of
The night, dark and dull
The owl gazes and grimaces
At my needful act,
That was wrapped in my sloth.
It felt the beat of my swirling heart
As I had wished and expected
And whispered through its stars
Sometimes words are not needed
Our actions and gestures
Fulfill the requirements.
I understood its teaching.
Tomorrow is my day.
I will daze the world.

Everyone is engaged in making
Relations with statues shining
Through the face of Facebook

I must be different
I am restoring my relations
With my loved ones

Stop crying
For those
who reveal themselves
By words, not heart

Love has lost its lustre
Nobody is going to die for it now

For you,
I'd left my parents,
And now left me, saying
I'm not good as you had thought of.

Isn't leaving everything at home
The greatest sacrifice?

Sunny. Not a half spoon of wind.
Students are engrossed, opening
Their pages. They, unbidden guests,
Are in their rooms, built in oir field.
Chirping grows from loud to louder.
I cannot lose the sight of headlines.
We are talking about their music,
Not about our irritation. The chirping
Gets thinner. I'm sad. I am waiting.

This is urgency
Time is pushing us
It's pathos
We're resisting
Suppose you are there
When a bomb falls

Is not your life worth living?
Aren't you parents?

Raise your voice
To squash the voice of war
Before you aren't more to dare

I'm genius because
I am skillful in telling people
That I'm genius.

Shifting is a poignant process.
You cannot peel it off with ease.
You bundle clothes, crockery,
Drag articles of wood to vehicle,
Discard old tears--a needful act-

The funeral of emotions.

Our fate is similar,
But mode is different.

My hands
are wands,
not canes,
An armless robin
perches in them
It's dusk.
Spring.
Mangoes are bride.
A riddle.
A panic station.

Desires are chained.
It swings in the cradle.
Raindrops.
Breeze.

A sympathetic act
Is sweeter than honey,
Brighter than a sparkling star,
Lovable than a lovely present.

In the field of his mind
He had sown seeds
Of massive neighbourhood

Today I watch a giant oak

Sheep shelter there
When the sun is on rampage
And they wish
To take their feet off the pedestal

Bees hang their cottages

Squirrels' sliding is aplenty

Singers from Pakistan and India
Sing their songs in proximity

I'm transformed
I have a desire for this dreamland villa.

This evening.
The wooden pen
Shattered to pieces
On the page of my book

In the kitchen,
The tanned tile came off

The sparrow crawled
With its pierced pinion
In the vestibule

The dews fell on the grass

This evening.

On lips of
I-will-first-change-myself
Happiness slid
Down the cheeks of life
And then reached the fertile field

The trees of change
Grew in every corner
Bearing blooms, very juicy

As I rose
To pluck one of them
At the window
The dream shawled its face

But I felt
That I had drunk that dream

Raising
One's
Own morale
Even after the defeat

Is a miracle
To do the ordinary in a miracle way

What
One
Eats
For
The
Soul
Is
Enough
For the mind to be in the pink

'I' is always big,
Yet it has to stand
With small 'h' and 'm'

Only 'I' cannot do wonders
In a single sentence

Graphics
    Are the behaviour
             To beautify the paper

Happiness keeps knocking at the door
But mobile doesn't let the latch go off

A gentleman isn't made of
What he has in his cupboard

He is made of
A worthwhile-sense-of-maintaining - his-worthiness.

If
You can't
Make your mind free of miseries

You have done nothing special on earth

Cut off mobile from children
They want to play