What power you yield
in the voice of one—
to say to the world
“something must be done.”

What power you have
in the hands of two,
to do what you said
someone else should do.

From scattered
grains of sand,
dunes arise.

And from a single seed,
forests grow.

Neurons fire,
blind to the symphonies
they sing.

Droplets form rivers
with no single drop
Aware.

And your touch
ripples silence--
calming
the storms
I hold
within.

Un trial
begun wise

as a man thinks
so is he

as a tree grows, just so.

Seek first the order,
center out, or edge in,
bottom up, top down

thinking, seeking lost
reason, lost balance on
pivot jewel catchments,

chthonic coordinated response,
time
light, and light alone, physical
touch
line upon line, patient, waiting

for the forgotten first word.

Controls the world
With soft power.
But like a limp ****
'Soft power' is only
There when it
Can become hard.

finally has purpose...

what's the most important thing you've learned In life

The board lies still—eight ranks, eight files,
Each square a world, a thousand trials.
Its checkered face, both calm and cruel,
Waits quietly to play the fool.

The stage is set, the players stare,
Each move a hope, each glance a dare.
They chase the crown, a fleeting throne,
Yet play this game so not alone.

The pawns march on with hearts held tight,
Blind to edges of wrong and right.
The knights vault over doubts and ties,
Twisting through paths that mask disguise.

While bishops slide through shades between,
They blur the line of right and mean.
The rooks stand firm with rigid pride,
Their paths cut sharp, no step to slide.

The queen—so fierce, so fast, so grand—
Wields power none can understand.
The king just shuffles, slow and small,
Yet all would die to guard his fall.

But none ask why this prize they seek—
What worth has power if souls grow weak?
They fight for check, they fall for mate,
They crown the skill, yet praise the fate.

But when the game has run its thread,
All lie the same—still, cold, and dead.
No victor’s cheer, no mournful cries,
Just silent echoes, fading skies.

A silent watcher beyond the frame,
Eyes steady, untouched by fleeting game.
He watches rules with endless flight,
The fragile dance of truth and lies.

Unmoved by moves both thrill and blind,
He holds the truth the young can’t find—
That all their struggle, all their pain,
Is but a shadow, not the reign.

Sometimes,we think good
But what happens to us is bad
But don’t lose heart
And get the ball rolling
Because who knows!!
Towards you, its falling

Sometimes , the days are glooming
Another time, you find them moving
But don’t think about these things .
They will automatically fly with wings.

Sometimes, you may be playing on earth’s head.
Another time, you may be lying ill on your bed
But will you stop playing for the fear of laying!
Definitely not!
If not, then keep trying!!

Sometimes you are in exasperation
another  time,you can be in innovation.

This is life and all these things are colour of it
Those who understand this are called wit.
Those who don’t needs to think that
Thinking is not the solution
Infact, its only a coward way of superimposition

Believe if you can
To think is to lose sometimes
And to do is the best many times.

                                                               -Sandeep Kaushal