Romance

If the romance of your art makes you restless
And breaks every possible dream of money and wealth
That any human would want,
If you are lucky enough to be chosen amongst the millions of billions
And if the path is dimly lit in its sensual aroma,
If the love of this art surpasses the love of a women
And even if it takes ages you are ready to sacrifice,
If your heart is a pious image
Within which words flicker like paper,
If your dreams are as vivid and bright
And bold as facts of someone’s life,
If the senses lure you to live
And if the path takes you to a place-
Somewhere near peace and excitement
Near life and death, near love and hatred,
If this journey that shall be too long and tearing,
Makes you feel the spirit of it,
And if the dreams you dream race your pace,
And have the guts to live,
Your world is full, you life is this,
This art you worship,
Be blessed for she only shall consume you wholly.

Dancing wild

The dance she does in the rain on the street
When the day starts to drown and the night almost on its way
And those little drops of water from the sky above
Fallings aimlessly around and some on her carefree soul.
Nature had it all planned,
This set it prepared for her performance and only spectator who stood,
The lone passager, must weep a tear.
For such is her performance,
The dance of victory- triumph tasted,
She must know of her reach,
And time and again defy them each.
But before she moves on any further,
It is what  she earned she should celebrate,
For once in every million seconds,
She must dance in such a rain.

Dear mother

Sometimes I get the idea of terror that would be
Had she not been there by my side
On every Monday morning waking me up,
On every Sunday night when I demand for dessert,
Every lonesome day when I need her shelter, her gentle hands with love, resting on my head,
That made the fear of evil long gone.
Sometimes it takes me by a surpise how awfully close I am to her,
Yet in instances I tend to forget
And sometimes for a while I tend to repel.
Each one of her smile it shines bright on my bold shoulders,
Knowing that it takes its path from my aids,
I feel that last inch of happiness that
Only worthy are made to know of.
Our relationship is not so different,
I am mischievous child and she spares no rod sometimes,
Yet in the heart we both know,
Us, we love each other more than we know of.
Words are sometimes so difficult
For human heart needs no words to connect
If mankind is honest enough today,
It knows it well the one’s worth waiting for.
In this very little life I have lived,
I can’t thank you much for this undivided love and affection you gave.
In this life and in many others too,
Dear mother I love you the most.