#seekers
Why end life by force?
when we can embrace death with a living body—without shame, without fear, with acceptance, and above all, with a smile.
9:00 AM, haridwar
Death never leaves you
she is pure and eternal as you think—without any judgement, without any bias, without any ego.
We have a problem
To give importance to those who aren't available.
And that's why we give importance to life.
But why not death?
She is far more loyal than life.
She will hold your hands whenever and wherever you want—without any tantrums that life plays on you.
So why fear death?
When you know you will meet her anytime anywhere, but definitely.
Now it's my time to meet my eternal partner— DEATH.
Good bye — with end as the new beginning.
The Anonymous.
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
I know I’ll never fit my skin.
It’s tired, worn, useless, thin.
A star's glow trapped in my eyes.
Buried in dark, I see no rise.
The weight in my chest,
from poison in my breath,
Plays the hymn of my soul,
On the strings of my death.
My shadow, a wanderer,
where light dares not tread,
Dreams forged in the gallows,
where demons are fed.
Each song, a lament.
Quantum sonnets ignored.
In the endless night,
bound to the darkness I hoard.
My pulse-heavy hand,
Strums as loud as it can.
My heart beats a rhythm,
Erratically unplanned.
My rhythm of chaos.
My melody pure.
My quivering voice.
My lyrics, unsure.
But the echoes swell,
As they scream in my mind.
Like a serpent in Eden,
I'm dark and divine.
Deep in this garden,
where a serpent has right.
I wonder the blackness.
Trying to carve out my light.
If only for like souls,
Lost deep in this doubt.
Seek me, I beg you.
Let me guide you out.
Though I may be worn,
my heart may be scarred.
My ways questionable,
my body may be charred.
Seek me in the deep,
Though darkened my path,
I'll carve out my light,
And threaten no wrath.
Seeing through won't be easy.
And hope becomes a foe.
This darkness instills,
A foreboding woe.
Find me in the blackness,
My warm heart, my cold hands.
You'll know my voice,
when the hair on your neck stands.
Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 9:32 AM UTC
i let crime seekers
into the building because
i coward afraid
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 5:37 PM UTC
why look for
true love
when true love'll
find you
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
as human beings and consumers, we often seek for contentment
as seekers, we search for satisfaction to fill in missing parts of us we think we need
as lovers, we seek for attention, longingness and to be far off from the void
we search for what is relevant enough to be the food of our soul, and as we consume we are never satisfied
so we seek for satisfaction, wanting more
and with hands full, a heart pouring out of selflessness, we destroy ourselves
as we fall in love, we fall apart
giving and offering missing puzzle pieces that exist within us
as we gradually become into nothing, we feed off of others, consuming whatever it is they have left
we accept their love, and they, our flaws
aware that we are only body parts that are reconnecting
as we heal, we occupy their vacancies, filling in missing parts that have been hollow for too long
we become their musings, their vertebrae of support
they become our sanctuary and our hope
they become the memories that look into the future
instead of the mistakes that shaped who we are
n.j.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
From formative years
To adulthood serfs-baited
Servants ill-treated
From their means
Of existence alienated,
It is with hatred
From- serfdom- of- every-kind
-the- newly -unshackled heads'
Formatted!
Though their much-lamented land
Has come back to their hand
Tardy,their mind proves not free,
That is why they engage
In a killing spree!
Worse still death to all, allies
Inclusive,they decree!
Although it sounds funny
They pay back gal
For received honey!
Also to cultural norms
And religious ideals blind,
Atavistic they slay
A woman and a child
In a way that is wild.
Oblivious for 9-months
They had a lodging
In a mother's womb
They want to blast it
With a bomb!
They want to shove in it
A spherical thorny wood
As far as they could.
Alive,they grill a man,
For idle or unskilled what
They can't do, he can!
In the name of God
Or religious sects,
Replete at this
Satan-released age,
They behead a man
Made in God's image!///
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 4:42 AM UTC
Value in Love thy seekers to whom find Value is Truth
A heart never bearing the weight it gives with focus
for devotion, diligence, drive, and a darling dedication to go forth an dare to dream to desire and discover detailed thoughts of the utmost majestic, Visions that Kings would wish for.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Oh they pleaded,
women, men
young and old,
'let us pass through that sea'
to a place where we could start all over',
yet their voices fall into deaf ears
of their brothers and sisters
from another mother land,
hopeless they remain drifted
in the treacherous sea
feeling unwanted, unloved
forever rejected,
by the policies of the modern
migration...
the unworthy sea-going boat,
becomes their coffin
and the sea and the seafloor become
their graveyards,
the common fate of boat people - the asylum seekers.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
If I knew who I’d be
by the last written line of this poem.
If I knew who’d sway, besotted, beside me
to lean in and catch the last word
of our maundering sobhet;
If this, I’d never have left
my Beloved's company to begin with.
I crawled wild-eyed from the depths
of the inexplicable,
cold embers of abandoned age,
To go there.
To go to the tip
where the flame flickers
and breath burns.
The Beloved is the earth,
my awareness, roots.
If this,
then love is the water
flowing through the rock,
drawn up the vine
to fatten the grape.
This drunken dance
is a fruit harvest
We fools are the wine makers.
Who gets who intoxicated?
Bestami Bayazid said,
*"I am the wine drinker and the wine and the cupbearer
I came for from Bayazid-ness as a snake from its skin.
Then I looked and saw that lover and beloved are one
I was the smith of my own self.
I am the throne and the footstool.
Your obedience to me greater than my obedience to you
I am the well-preserved tablet.
I saw the Kaaba walking around me."*
I say, I arrived in this place two sunsets back
but I did not have to travel to get here.
The earth makes its way around the sun on my behalf.
My journey is both a somber desert
and a purling rain forest
It is my pause that makes one or the other so.
A hungry sparrow hops cautiously through bread crumbs
strewn around a fat loaf of bread.
The feast is on the table, our hands in our pockets,
our mouths sealed shut,
bellies full of hesitation, we circle the spread.
Empty are the stores of those who
Cannot sate their hunger for truth.
The empty belly of a sparrow
sees the universe in a morsel of bread
So of what use is the whole loaf.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
Beautiful mosaic
Of a fragmented heart
Made of clay and
And broke apart.
Parched by drought
What more brings rain
to remembrance
of the Beloved’s name.
It is in my silence
that You hear
how my burning thirst
mouths a drought of tears.
Hearts pump harder
when we bleed, as
Absence sounds the hollows
Of the waiting reed.
Into enormity of emptiness,
the vastness of the beloved to disclose
The sweetest water ever sipped
– by the lovers parched and longing lip –
is the fragrance of the wine red rose.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC