There is no such thing as a path that leads to nowhere
Maybe it didn’t get you
Where you wanted to go
But you’re still somewhere else
Than where you started
And along the way
You grow

"I have a hundred photos lined up to be posted.
I edit them, I think about them, and I let them be.
I let them be in my gallery for the right time.

And the right time never comes.

Days become months, and months at times turn into years.
But the right time never comes.

I don't know why!

But it is alright!

It is alright because I am not in a race, nor am I in a hurry to tell my story.
I don't mind waiting at the stop like this bus.
I don't mind being forgotten about
Or just not talked about for days.

But I, in my own way, after making those stops, I will carve my road ahead.
Uncover the true beauty of my story
In the most unusual way.
Just like how sunlight lights up a simple road and makes patterns with the help of shadows.

Shadows have their own ways.
Shadows glorify those pretty rays.

Looking back at another year,
Being thankful for things far and near.
The horizon has never been this bright,
The sea of love brimming with glorious light.

Looking back at another year,
Grateful for things small and dear.
Possibilities like soft molding sand,
Hope of adventures crossing sea and land.

Contentment
Pause
Breathe
Hope
Free
The mind
The load
Slow down
Rewind
Sit back
Intertwine
earn
Your keep
yearn
peace
Contentment
A place
A balance
An emotion

I am not social
I am scarse
I dont need to show up
If my heart does not ask

I am not available
I am not a farce
I dont need attention
Atleast not by the vast

I say i dont care
I say it, again.
Again and again
Till it feels like a mask

No need to follow
No need to like
I can grow, i can flow
I can be a social dislike

My talent is mine
It's whispers are mine
For me, for me
For me is the rhym.

You can leave me
You can, you can
Leave me you can
But i still love the best i can

I love the best i can.

If a pen could relay all my thoughts
All those tiny speckles and threads that get often lost
My eye would like to describe the tinest details
And my hand would want to draw all its artistic tales

If my heart could realy what it thinks
All those flutters, its strongest strings
My beats would tell those feelings,to share
And my touch would make the world watch and stare.