Rishabh Shah

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

I'm a child in your eyes mother,
and a child I'll always be.
Because I may grow in numbers,
but your eyes know not math.

For they are filled with love,
and it flows out in tears,
at every little pain,
and scratch on my skin.

They don't see my evil mother,
though sins I have made.
Because I sinned I know,
but your eyes know not judgement.

For they are filled with compassion,
which is ever growing,
and it contains misdeeds,
and my senseless actions.

I'll be a big boy someday,
and earn my bread & butter.
But never so big to not fit in your eyes,
because I'm a child in your eyes mother.

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

High Profile Renegade

Designer clothes, glittering cars,
A million buck fragrance,
Costly drink at the bars,
Flying in chartered planes,
Your so called stars ,
Celebs at the parties,
Smoking cigars .

Oh, you like calling it high society ?
Then please do, mister,
I can take facts with ease.
I've been a slave to it, since so long,
I know how ******* high it is.

Effin brats of billionaire dads,
Acting cool with pricey ****,
******* roaming in alluring rags,
All slaves like me, of tempting fads.

Copyright © 2010 Rishabh Shah. All rights reserved.

This piece may seem ******, but I need the reader to know that it's from the characters perspective. Someone who has wasted years in vices, and has now come to realize that things can't be changed much from thereon.

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

Longing

Let me burn on the love drenched piers of your soul,
Let the ether from your burning heart fill me of your musk,
And let it last till the longing fades, until the moment we are one.

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

Recesses Of Mind

Stop running through the recesses of mind. Erase them, erase that line between madness and sanity. Amidst the chaos of blabbering thoughts lives a silent melody, a genial song, a poetic essence, where this and that sound the same and kiss and bliss go out of rhyme. Beauty they say is in the eye of beholder, so behold every futile image and splash it on a canvas. Watch it, caress it, embrace it till the last colour of it fades, and then behold another image. Stop running through the recesses of mind..Crack them from the inside and revel in the sight of a thousand butterflies fleeing from their cocoons..

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

Departure Plane

Paint the dark in white,
A night in city light,
Climb in, see the sight,
Life drifting on a speedy flight...

Wrote these four lines while departing from Delhi while coming to Bombay. I was mesmerized by the lights and the twinkle of the city. "Drifting on a speedy flight" also explains the nature of life and time. When we feel like life is drifting like one long boring movie, time, is actually on a speedy flight.

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

No God In Prayers

Once on a teeming square
A guitarist came and played a song
A Rabbi walked to him and said
“My dear friend, the song you play
Proves my existence wrong”
“Pay no heed to me sir”, said the singer
I am a novice, you are the master
The Rabbi smiled, and went on
“I stayed in parish since I was born
Read books of religion
On the way along
Said prayers in the church
Joint hands at the synagogue
But never did I feel, love for The God
Like I did when I listened your song
I guess…
There is God in music, there is God in duty
There is God in people, there is God in beauty
There is God in love, a sense of security
Sad though it may sound
There is no God in Rabbi”

Based in the medieval era. A Rabbi finds an opportunity to preach in a very casual and easy way.

Rishabh Shah Jul 2010

Cuckoo In The Clock

Today i feel like time wins
We never had row, no we didn't
But now she refrains from walking slowly
Coz when she did i was wasted,
Snoozing her out every time she tweeted
And I never knew when she flew out of that door
And flew and kept on flying
Until that day when i got up
And i was like
What the hell is that grey thing on my head!
When her voice grew louder
From within the cuckoo
The cuckoo in the clock
I was a boy when papa got her home
Now i am old and grey
But she is still yellow and pretty
And tweets every single day
Waiting for and bowing to none
And she never loses
For she has got eternity
And what have I got?
A packet of black dye.

A small introspection & retrospection made by an everyday guy facing mid-life crisis.