Freedom was never an issue
No one had ever thought
Of existence of another world

Amazing moon
Different phases
Which one is the best
Any guesses
New moon hides and rest
Humbly shifting the limelight.
Crescent is shy to boast,
That's a beauty, of course.
Half tells truth,
Nothing is absolute.
Gibbous is fun and spark
Full of hopes even in dark
Full moon is admirable
Revealing all, including flaws.

Grill
Burn a little
Superficial surfaces
Reveal the real
Flavour

Oh, fire
I see fire
In eyes
that burn with desires

Oh, speed
I find speed
In legs
That move with needs

But, do we care?
Empathy is hardly there.

Father's shoulder ride,
Beautiful part of life
The reach was easy
Giggles were crazy
No sweat, no exhaustion
Absolute delight
With no splash of mud, cross several puddles
Higher than all, even aim gets bigger
Hard to believe, this light would fade
Down there, darkness awaits
Fight gets tough, serious, tiring,
dull, *****, clueless
Oh, Father's shoulder ride,
Can't it be endless?

False hopes
Found scope
Fiddling with the truth

I'm ok
With one colour
Why rainbows try to flatter
I'm ok
In dark
Why sparks need to remark
It's not ok.

Every little thing around, a piece of poetry.
Identifying its right form, a life's mystery.
Blending ourselves into its verses, a task that needs mastery.
Singing it aloud and heartily, a great victory.

Dilemmas and confusions
Unsettled and unsolved
Instead of hault
Become the driving force
Give shape to the unexplored
Let excitement to continue
Let life to happen
in not just one way!

Awaiting an amazing time
Sweeping away what's already mine

Feeling encouraged and determined,
For things that still didn't show any sign.
Trying too hard to make it right,
Justifying further to avoid breaking hearts.

The Present is going swiftly,
Reluctant to include any mystery,
Faults declared in wings without flying.
Freedom still dreams of running away.

This wait is going long
Patience has high cost
Tomorrow is altogether lost
Today is writing a sad song.

फटे होंठ की लकीरें
या कपड़ों में पैबंद ज़्यादा थे?
फिर भी, लाल बत्ती सी चमक आंखों में थी।

बोली में तेज़ी, " ख़रीद लो मैडम "
या मजबूरी ज़्यादा थी?
फ़िर भी, बेचने की कला बड़ी अद्भुत थी।

बेरंग दिनों को बदलने की कोशिश थी,
सामने रंगीन पर्दे सी ज़िन्दगी थी,
पर टिकट उसके लिए, महंगी थी।

पुराने संदूक में ये क्या खोज रही है
शायद नन्हे बच्चों को अपने ढूंढ रही है।
छोटे छोटे रंग बिरंगे पैरहन में
उनका बचपन संजोए रखा था।
सब कुछ टटोलकर शायद
अपनी मुस्कुराहट ढूंढ रही है।