With Goal in the  mind
you focus your card,  
Forgetting days nights
and working so hard,

What ever has come in
the target your way,
You have always strived
to keep it at bay.

Resources are albeit
but skimpy and low.
You Seldom get worry
and never  you bow.

While eating and moving
or going for walk,
You put your attention
on measures you talk.

Virtues that you own
not common in mass,
Seldom are found and  
tough to surpass.

Perhaps  is the reason
why I have regard,
Your focus certainly
deserves this reward.

But often  I doubt
your fire your zeal,
Queries comes to mind
this what I feel.

Is it your passion that
makes you work hard?
Or Else is pushing you
jumping the  yard?

Since I have also seen
a victim  a prey,
In forest jumps hard
when  lion on way.

Just see if guilt,Fear ,
doubt and remorse?
are not controlling
your action of course?

Ajay Amitabh Suman
All Rights Reserved

Once there was a man
Neither rich nor very poor
He was a workaholic
But also a habitual drinker!

He used to drink regularly
Mostly at night
Sometimes, in a bar
Sometimes, at his home
Sometimes, with his friends
And sometimes alone

He was a father, husband and a son
But he never showed them affection, love and emotion

At one bad day
He drank throughout the night
Returned home very late
And with his wife, he had an ugly fight

He abused and slapped her too
His kids tried to give her a shed(protection)
And pushed that man away
But by that push, he got a wound on his forehead

He became more angry
And picked a sharp knife
Stabbed his own little kids
And ended their lives

Stepped out from his own home
But fell down at door
He slept that night, very relaxed
In the morning till four

Woke up and entered inside
He called his wife and kids
Saw dead bodies of his kids and wife
And he realized his yesterday's deeds

Then he cried loud and thought to end his life
Cut his own artery with that same blooded knife

That night, an alcoholic ended a family
But, by his deeds, humanity declined
Like, every single moment in our society
Alcohol is murdering the mankind. . .

Between judging the good and the dead,
I lose myself in the cacophony of lies, made my men,
Amid the hustling and jostling of interests, lies and deceit
I scream!
my voice is muffled by a black cloth,
which covered eyes of Themis, now unfurled, tied my voice,
So, none can hear, my cries,
I am a man, I have a spirit, my bliss cannot live in lies and deceit!

I lose myself, split of a second,
A place where I find solace for my heart,
Split second of servitude for God,
And that is enough! To lead me away from temptations!
I look at men in blood, fresh, for petty wealth, and I see God!
I look at black coats, standing for Good and evil for wealth, and I see God!
Who am I to judge?
I see and witness unfurling of time, and my mind rests at His foot!
For all is lights and shadow!
I am at peace, being a witness of His work.
Om Tat Sat!

© Saurya 7th Jan 21

That workaholic lady who's always on call,
keeping up with the market fall.
That newly married lady with chunky red bangles,
returning to her father's big castles.

That person who's scared to get lapse,
so stays active on the google maps.
That person who swings like a kid at the back door,
Or the one who perform calisthenics on an empty floor.

That next door girl with a red lipstick,
flicking her shinny hair & gossiping with her clique,

That dreamer gazing outside the window,
That overworked soul dozing on his elbow.

That 21st century kid,
listening to Eminem & playing video games.
Or That 90’s kid,
listening to Jenga Boys & playing outdoor games.

That banker with a big fat stomach,
filled with his beautiful wife’s love.
That lady who eats like a thief,
in her big fat bag hiding a beef.

That old man who can’t stand Bombay's winding turns.
That granny spotting & criticing  every fashion trends.
That man who has Raju Rastogi’s concerns,
thinking & chanting for earns & returns.

Those kids who believe their job is to fill the voids in a battlefield,
in the still crowd surpassing like electrons into a magnetic field.

That lady sitting under cold seat like a glacial,
than standing with 7kgs in a crowded central,
& tryna stay sane listening to George Michael.

That geek who switchs from Linkedin to Arjun Reddy,
when the masses flee into the scenery.
That trader crunching numbers so rapidly,
when the stock prices go down hourly.

That person on the last seat,
diagressing from work & gazing around,
soaking in her pashmina, with a career newfound.