bird of joy forgot to pass by
atleast to come say hi

behid every loud laugh
is long cry
or a cold heart
were a bird of joy is dead
died with silence
without any realization or recognition
maybe cause of the given hard mission
it was un breakable un shakeable

new birds are still born
let our nest bloom to their wants
to get them breading and growing  in there.

Light awakens with shrieks of thunder
In the sky, a breathtaking wonder
Grief of rain, within clouds it reside
Half parts meet when heavens collide

Tremble in sky, It longs to fly

Never get close, it just wants to clash
It screams with its fascinating flash
Never afraid of fall, it takes a leap
G**round it's salvation, it was born to seek

Born with flowers
Burned with blues
Gone with hours
Lost with truth
Following the dogs
Without any clues
Shouting tears
Obeying the fools

There in the garden
I waited and waited
So patiently.

I waited for hours,
Days, almost a century.

There in the garden
I could have died
From longing.

Many a thing occurred
Before my sight.

Many died,
Many were born,
Some were reborn.

I waited for days
And the sun stood still.

It was only a minute.


--Watercolour

it's likely you have come to know the closeness of your skin
and made as much or little of the way you'll die with it
we've all consumed the poison we injected like a drug
but told ourselves the blame is on the

ones who made this up
the justice of inheritance, rewritten every day
has talked for long enough to know there's nothing left to say
and as we try to rearrange, to shake, to even lie
the proof is like the time and passes every day alike
so let us be enlightened or deceived because of choice
we haven't changed a single thing we've added to the noise

If something is not there in it’s place of which something was thought prior,
definitely there must be something new in it's place.
As it happens in life so does in race,
Day is followed by night,
night followed by day and again by night.
Similarly also in race
Most of the times it’s the old that replaces the new and makes it’s presence felt
Definitely champions aren't born, they are made.

“For reasons unexplained, every person in the world is born with a large gaping hole in the center of their chest…while not uncomfortable, it is widely considered unsightly, and pretty much everyone tries to fill it with something…some people fill it with religion, others just buy a bunch of stuff, and some even fill it with other folks…I left mine alone, though, because I found out if you run against the wind at just the right angle, it makes a whistling noise.”