Life’s nothing but a rough road
When you care to only see the hateful thorns,
Digging the grave for all joy and peace.
*****, you caress not the beauties the rose adorns,
The smoothened grass, the birds that sing on trees!

Life’s nothing but a weary voyage
When you care to only struggle in sorrow,
Sailing on your tears that seem to forever flow.
Fool, you fail to admire the streaming stars that follow,
The wandering wind, the ocean that with mysteries glow!

Life’s nothing but a blank black sky
When you care to only lose and mourn,
Being devoid of all stars, beauty and bliss.
Idiot, you care not to greet any ecstatic dawn,
The clouds that float, the rays the waves kiss!

Life’s nothing but nothing
When you care to only cry and cry and rot,
Bearing all pessimism and shunning all peace.
Fire your spirits with every smiling thought;
Feel free to flame on in all ecstasies!

Feel free for optimism's the true life!
Pessimist!
To go forth in life, go forth with life!

We, poets, are dead and alive altogether;
Aren't we?
Dead to reality and alive in dreams.
We dream to resurrect a dead world;
Don't we?
To this world, lets then contribute a thought.



- Inspired after watching the movie 'Dead Poets Society'

When watered by the richness of Nature's beauty,
My eyes bloom in admiration--
Here, alongside the lotus and the lily
And the flowering sun that smiles the dawn,
Blossoms new sensations-- ever so sweetly.

All dressed in yellow and green,
The grass bends forth in humility
To greet all marvels the meadow has seen;
While children play their glorious games,
The tender tree leaves play with the breeze--unseen.


Swans sweep over the soothing stream
While clouds float on the flowing breeze;
As if by some unearthly force, it does seem,
The wet cotton clouds are squeezed to pour forth
Its resurrecting rain to tickle the trickling stream.

Lulled by the nightingale song, I dream
To one day dive in and splash like the frog
And make his crazy funny flips into the stream,
And to one day renew my life to a level so ecstatic
As of a butterfly that kisses a breathing blossom--I dream.

With grateful eyes, I greet God's great blessing--
Nature, sweet healer who with dreams does soothe.
Now, with life and spirit renewed , I  pour my offering
To this Divine Beauty-- not mere words, but me myself.
'Maiden of dreams, let me die on your lap, dreaming.'

I very humbly describe me
As one who rides on the wings of fantasy
In tender undisturbed tranquility.

From the struggling fragments of the world,
Broke and cut by the swords of war,
Lets build on bricks of love,
Not any more walls and fences
Nor the ****** forts of hatred,
But a healed and better tomorrow,
When the truth and love would serve as a second sun
And when peace would be the motto of all nations.

Lets repent and make our Father proud
And act as worthy children of that Love.
Lets aim straight and dream great.
Lets rise the sun on every face;
Lets set the sun on every sorrow;
Lets light the moon on this darkness now.

Let the sun be ashamed to not shine like this new Earth;
Let the moon be ashamed to not glow like this new Earth.

Lets build again
On bricks of love
For a refreshed world.

When glancing through the mental pictures
Of pure and innocent babyhood and childhood
(Pure and innocent, in the righteous sense that
Of being distant from and unknowledgeable of
The mischievous pranks of elder humanity-
‘War, ******, treason, terrorism and all felony’
Which contribute to building a senseless world,
Composed of a grown-up and misled community
That claims ‘mature’ and acts immature.) ,
I regain true consciousness
Of the wisdom I possessed as a child
And of the folly I bear along now.

It’s a truth undeniable that I state here-
One lives his/her life the best and most best
In the un-grown, underdeveloped human form
And the un-waiting glide of time transforms
Purity into impurity and innocence into guilt,
Maturity into immaturity and wisdom into folly.
For when humans understand what’s right and wrong,
They advertise their tendency to choose the wrong.
Exceptions, in this case, are rare to note down.
As much as the wicked world of today is concerned
And in general sense, mere physical growth
Undermines necessary moral growth.


Now here, being a part of this wicked world,
I sadly reflect on those joyous days of old
And in this present age, I try much to recollect
Those sweet memories of childish virtue.