A Window

What draws me to the window pane,
Is my curious urge to look out again,
And every time I look outside,
I see Life on its silent ride,
I draw the curtains hastily,
It stirs something inside of me,
I know not what, it feels remote,
For I choose to welcome the old;
It feels empty as my room inside,
With no escape, nowhere to hide.
However, a voice lingers in the dark,
And taunts me with a question mark;

I open the window with a strong impulse,
And feel the city's racing pulse,
Where I - a victim of 'common man'
And common views, cannot say 'I can',
To take the charge, the lead role,
And time flies away until I am old.
Left to decay in the lonely cage,
Which I have built throughout my age.
Light rushes inside at the speed of light
As all the darkness and shadows subside,
The way around is still obscure,
By a pile of dirt covering the floor.

My grey wooden bed lies empty,
Like those dreams and wishes left to be,
Unaccomplished tasks left to rot,
While I slept soundly on that cot.
The mirror on the wall can no further
Reflect myself, I have nothing to gather
And stand near it, but it's not broken,
It's just asleep, impassive, not yet woken.
However, every time I look at it,
I see my sorry state, as if it is fit
For me; I can see nothing else,
I cannot rise above my arrogant self.

The shelf is covered by my atlas of sin,
Without the strength, I sink deeper in;
The books kept there, their knowledge is lost
By my neglect - a priceless cost.
The drawers of my heart, like my costly chest
Lay barren and vacant, I did my 'best'
To fill them up; the very pace
Set by my desire to do so - like a race
Run throughout life, only to realize
It is all meaningless - just a blink of the eyes,
The mind lay vacant - nothing gained,
I had begun, descended and remained.

A life unworthy of a crash report written
One second before it was erased and hidden.
But in that second I saw nothing of mine,
And you're supposed to see a lifetime.
Inside this cell - a living death,
The air intoxicated by my breath,
A mind of man, lost in time and space,
Like a pillar being built without its base.
The ultimate being with his greatest mind,
Was groping in the dark, unlike a blind.
But that is past, the window is open,
And it's never too late to mend the broken.

As I stand and absorb, my senses clear,
I begin to evolve a mind without fear.
The air and light fill inside to purge
And stimulate my will, and urge
To break down and pick up the broken,
And a fire from the ashes shall be awoken.
To meticulously build again from scratch,
And when ignited can have no match.
For a moment's pause I drown myself,
In the Nature outside - ready to help
And guide me, as I open my door,
To welcome the unknown inside once more.

This window like an opening in the fence,
Connects the corridors of existence,
And shows me the world around;
It gives me something I never found -
A sense of freedom - to collect and rise
Through the portal of light amidst grey skies.
The cloud clears from the stagnated brain,
My mind begins to respond again.
This is my life, I have this only one,
Will I wait for some Heaven after I'm gone,
Or build it here? this place where I stand,
Grow my paradise with my own hands.
None can stop me, I will grow,
And shatter the limits of this 'one' window.

Dusk

The light fades into a reminiscence,
And a shadow envelopes the world.
The picture of a bright, colourful sky,
Becomes a portrait in shades of grey.
Life seems lifeless, without a stir,
And a bleak, bleached future follows.
Morals die and are washed away,
Pouring down the sides of evil.
I cover my eyes with my hands
But the effect is still the same.
A grey life feeds a gray mind,
Already determined to decay.
The world becomes silent once more
And none but the bound are free.
Light tries to win over it’s absence,
But fails to conquer this time.
Darkness smiles at it’s perfect illusion,
With Time as an enraptured audience.
Deep below it’s roots have spread,
The Earth must not disturb it.
It cannot risk being abandoned
And left loose, broken apart.
A man steals some time to sleep,
But, so is the world beside him.
In this dilapidated shell of knowledge,
Of wisdom which gives strength and hope,
Man scurries into the dark unknown,
Pushing aside, killing the reality,
With hope for a better tomorrow,
And some flame, ray of light,
Which will obscure this unreal.
And they turn to Him for protection,
To them for attention, and to rest,
Rest, in peace, with the thought
Of doing the same someday.
While flushing his feelings, his wishes
To be happy, down and out,
To pile and rot in a safe place,
Away from him and Him.
So that he could realise the wrong,
And go searching, begging and pleading,
To Him for mercy, and go on looking,
For a drop of blood in an ocean,
Under the coat of a dull, dark Heaven,
When blood and sea are imperceptible,
To find a way through the mist,
Created by the tears of his own eyes.
But it is growing dark,
The Dusk has arrived,
And Man is bound to lose his way,
Fall in the grip of the Night,
So fly towards safety and home,
But hope can never be rekindled by fate.
The stage is set, the play to begin,
But this is the beginning of the end.

Still Discovering - Part III

1. Birthdays come and go but I stay eternal.
2. It takes a lot of will and determination to start things and continue to lead by example.
3. Pain is and can only be physical.
4. I am a very sad soul searching for answers.
5. The cause of Man’s downfall is greed and of course, incompetence.
6. Never forget two things in life – firstly never forget your perseverance, remember each and every one of your efforts and pain, the minutes spent and the ideas developed and secondly, never forget the exhilaration and joy after a job is done, an idea conquered or a battle won.
7. Another person’s effort in helping you grow, making you a better person, makes him your guide for life. It should never be compared with personal gains.
8. Always have faith in your judgment.
9. Love won’t cure me. Exercise will.
10. Tougher the life, better the aftertaste.
11. Do not propose or propagate something without understanding it.
12. All your dreams will come true, once you know what to do.
13. Publicity is like a disease. Almost incurable.
14. The setting sun is like a golden sunrise. Forever inspiring.

Poisoned Paradise Perished (A Fantasy in Reality)

Long ago when the roses were red
Like your lovely lips of blood-like hue.
When you felt like an angel in a dream,
And just by your presence, I felt so new.

When your hair felt darker than the Devil’s heart,
And your heart felt whiter than spirits dear.
My thoughts just wandered by seeing your eyes,
My heartbeat played mayhem when you were near.

And every sunshine seemed a little more bright,
And all of Nature played a melody.
When Love seemed to start from every smile,
And add to my strength, like a flourishing tree.

When I felt I had a reason to live,
Like God had answered all my prayers out loud.
When my every problem seemed big enough,
To be the silver line behind the cloud.

When Hate disappeared out of my life,
And Love filled the corners of my lonely self.
When I still felt like living every hell-like day,
With your silent, imaginary, far cry help.

Just when I found my dreams to sail on,
And my paradise on earth became so true.
That is when, I should have said,
How much I hated you…..


You stole my paradise,
And poisoned my love,
And I perished with it.
Not because you said no to my love,
But because, you never gave me a chance
To say how much you meant to me.
Not because you prevented me from saying,
No, you would never do that.
But I found my reply
When you walked out of my life,
With someone else.
He had everything I did not,
But lacked everything I had.
I should have been bold….
But that’s where you gave me,
My own poisoned love chalice
And told me to drink to fulfillment.
And I did so happily.
And eventually landed in a desert
Where love drifts like the sands of time.
I lived alone, lonely and tired,
And moved as far away as I could,
In this neglected home for the neglected.
My sorrow engulfed me whole,
Until it turned me blind.
And my paradise disappeared.
Not by my blindness,
But by my grief.


And one day I found you,
Safe in the farthermost corners.
Sitting there like a lonely, lovely figure.
I thought you were dead.
But you sprang to life by my touch.
No, I could not reach ‘you’,
Because my blindness could only take me
To the corner shelf of my room
To my true companion – my flute.
On which I once played the love songs…
I played my flute to drown my pain,
And I think I played quite well.
Not because I felt no grief when I played,
But a small crowd clapped every time I stopped.
They stopped by to listen,
Every time I played.
Must have had their bits and fragments of sorrow,
They must have found some warmth
When it was colder than the Devil’s heart.
Because I did.
I felt paradise again at my fingertips.
Until my ear could no longer hear it play.
I had turned completely deaf.
A person cannot live with so much
And so little.
So much of pain, so little of joy.
So much of curse, so little of boon,
So much of poison, so little of paradise.
So I finally gave up.
And my poisoned paradise perished with me.
This time for real.
I was happy.
Not because I was relieved,
But because I had sent ‘you’,
In a small gift, neatly packed,
My broken flute.
My true drops of blood and tear.
I died the very night I broke it.
I know you will throw it away instantly,
Thinking it a joke someone played on you,
And go on with your life.
But it would get a last of your touch,
And that is all I need.
Maybe, subconsciously, I smile,
Maybe, unknowingly, ‘you’ cry.
Goodbye…..                ....my flute

To A Nightingale

Oh nightingale, how do you bail
The tired man, by your song?
Sitting close by, why don’t you sigh?
But chant your melody all night long.
Sent from above through the song of love
How do you sing such a lovely strain?
With a song for whom? My gratitude groom,
Your music showers like the golden rain.
On that tree’s bark, oh! magical harp!
Please sing more I request,
Abiding nature’s law; I listen in awe,
Do sing once more I wait in zest.
Oh please tell me, a voice so free,
How do you shine in the dusk?
To heaven it seems, chanting hymns?
Or to God, what do you ask?
The queen of the dark, my dearest lark,
The magical tune it makes me pray,
As I listen to you, the song you choose,
Until the night turns into day.
Through the bliss of spring, you always sing,
An icon of dusk it seems to me,
I hail your song, all spring long,
I want to be you, I want to be thee.

Still Discovering - Part II

1. Some people are born just to disturb the state of equilibrium.


2. Emptiness is next to loneliness.


3. It's better to be invisible than to have a shape filled with the opinions and views of others.


4. Your love is worth 25 paise. They don't make 1 paise anymore.


5. Solitude is a blessing and a curse. Blessing because it gives rise to one's greatest masterpieces. Curse because it helps devilish thoughts and deeds grow.


6. Once a man-eating beast was chasing me. I ran up a tree, saw my dearest pal, and jumped.


7. When the world gets destroyed, only intellectuals who played Counter-Strike will survive.


8. The only time we can nearly have a perception of infinity is when we stand between two oppositely facing mirrors.


9. 'One; twenty-one guns; lay down your arms, give up the fight'.....Bang!


10. I can say all that you want to hear. Just have the courage to ask.


11. The world is all 99% bad and 1% good. But I'd fight for that 1% with my 99%.


12. One man can change a million men if one million men cannot change that one man.