The usual response

On a lonesome street on a monday morning
An appartment room of a single accommodation
Found a young man of about thirty
Dead, wrapped in sheets of sheer agony.
For the ambiance of the place was such
The shattered crockery at a nearby distance
Walls painted with unambitious designs
Screaming the state of mind of a ‘sane’ meadow.
In no time mourners shall arrive
The mechnical hands of some anonymous dream
Working aimlessly and sexually insane
A mere irony to the young man’s game.
His cause of death is uncertain
But as one might be so logical enough to realise
Overpowering stress and underwhelming satisfaction
Has made many lives accustomed to death.
Do you have a purpose in life?
Yoing boys like you should go all the way out
Running, shinning, dreaming the big picture
But what if the canvas holds shy of my unusual nature.
I am a mere character in His mysteries
A mere unit of the production gone wrong
The world that is the assembly line
Would only but replace the sad life.

The year that ended

Mine has been a complex year,
With sentiments ranging from happiness to tear,
Collect the best of you with hope,
That next year comes with just as good scope.
For the year that has ended is gone,
And the flashbacks will make me weep along,
I hope it doesn’t stay still,
The next I shall climb the bravest hill.
Stand beside me, my love,
And like a princess I shall keep you dove,
I wish like last year you won’t go,
Or only this time I won’t say hello

War and crime

The notion of  war or peace is absurd,
For none of them can be only existing conclusion,
We have a long road ahead to peace,
With wars at each pitstop waiting abreast.
I know not of olden days,
The cause of wars our ancestors fought,
I must tell about the pacifists though,
Not a working solution in times of despair.
Man kills man in name of religion, sex, rights and what not,
Men of God and men from the house of blasphemy,
Together unite in hours of tension,
Fire at the lives of thousands of innocent.
When will the people understand,
Man’s ego has left no stone unturned,
My teacher at school used to say,
“Peace is noble man’s dying wish.”
We have come a long way from beginning,
And possibly while I am writing this,
Sounds of grenade or bullets may be heard,
In parts of middle east, or perhaps our neighbouring districts.
Death awaits us all in one way or other,
Dear God in heaven hasn’t made us immortal,
But His highness didn’t made us all,
Because we kill without sanity our own kind?
Terror is the face of evil that prevails,
And us, unknowingly we all contribute our hands in grains,
Men with power don’t do nothing  either,
Fear of terror has won the battle so far better.
All we can do is lock ourselves in,
Sit with those we love and cherish this life,
Because in days to come they will come for us,
But no, we are not the triumphant one’s.
We had our chance but we lost it,
World peace is just a made up word for hope,
We believe we are guarded safe,
Though each night at sleep someone survives one more day.
I can’t do nothing alone and neither can you,
But together we can break the turf,
Let those who burn the children alive know,
We are not afraid no more, we stand against crime.
Faith, unity, hope and righteousness are all our sole weapon,
In this battle of uneven force,
In order to win, we must do without the fear of death,
For if the cause if just, I have been told, victory is always known to come.

Common

It all started back in days of normality,
As it always does,
Something extraordinary or something,
Life changing happens to someone,
And people talk about it all day long.
But how would you treat an endless mind
Of thoughts and dreams created and yet again,
Shattered in frames of welcoming condolences in form of,
Another shot.
I believe each mind is capable and thus,
Each mind is noble,
We don’t have to be vigilantes against ourselves,
Maybe we could in the least try to adapt.
Human mind is a constant source of idea but,
How do we set it apart seemingly,
Sure we are engineers of future,
But are we any good enough with love of fellow humans?
It all started back in those normal days,
When I was walking along, minding my own business,
When a thought came to me,
And I put if off,
Again.
For years I have been struggling with a tag,
‘Common’ has been the word of my life,
And though each day I dream too big,
Each night I sleep alone,
Sharp at half past eight.

Rubies

Shining in my hand is the gem of prosperity or so it seems
Speaking its way out through each red reflection
As if trying to shape my fortune yet again
In honor of material possession of which I seem to have posses.
This ruby is key to life and beyond;
Only if the fatal visions could come alive again
From the past I shall seek each one of them
And let the hands run their might over the forces of evil.
As the powerful always is- wrapped in dominance
I shall lead the lives of thousands and some even more to greatness,
Then they’ll say my life will be worth it
Doing meaningful something in visionary landscape.
Who doesn’t loves fame, or, just a little recognition?
Who doesn’t want to do stuff for himself
So that people who know him feel his existence,
Women near him, take him as a honest man.
Power! That’s all what is and will ever be,
I have the ruby safe inside of my private reach
And so I am a leader today
Funny how life changes in its own way.
And in hours that pass, my usual routine followed
The struggle I did, was nowhere to be acknowledged
Turns out dreams of red rubies are as much disturbing
The life of a human is in his own great spirit.

Tender (love)

What I feel each time I see her,
I cannot call it love, for it will only
Abuse or praise my tender heart
Who is yet to know either and judge.
And how she looks back at me
Dancing her eyes, rolling them all over me is something else.
My friends, older than me, tell me she is big enough, out of my reach,
Yet in my heart I know that I love her and the sense of her being.
I love the way I wait hours to look at her when I go down to play,
And when she comes in early morning, as fresh as she bathed.
Isn’t it all love? I asked them who mock me.
And in return they say,
She’s only to give you a chocolate or two,Not the things you don’t even know of.
I turn around and walk towards home,
I didn’t understand what they said.
Yet another morning in the scorching heat,
Outside her house in the society park,
Holding my bat, I’m waiting in sweat for her to step out and smile back.

Past

Past is  the room for distortion, for breaking the happy soul into two. Past is the state of mind that lingers around every once in a while and take away the little of peace that human life can accommodate. The truth is, past is wicked way to remind you that whatever you have done, whatever you are doing, and whatever you will do, there’s always someone watching you. No, you are not alone even in the hours of complete isolation.

Comprendre

She was right there

A total stranger, someone I have never ever met before

Yet the sensation of the ambiance that surrounded us

Stirred me into deep reflections of my emotional being.

 

The fear I felt, and I knew it then she is special,

For she is someone I wish to be perfect for,

The words I speaks, this walk I wear, should all be along the way upright

And there she stood as I stared this new reason -something better.

 

You know when you meet a total stranger

And out of triumph and faith in His highness,

She, with the eyes of a deer and smile of, well, her own

Gazed her eyes on me and I, completely in nirvana, subtly lost.

 

And as we know life by the nature of a chemical bond,

Uncertain, it is, in certain hours

For she stood there now staring at my face,

With a face full of live, a face of love.

 

Yet I had to go, life being my master,

And along the way we had to separate,

The irony, I felt, is of some existence,

Them who never met, were to depart.

 

And all the way I could think of her only

And this mistake I made leaving her behind,

Maybe I thought to myself she was the one,

Maybe, if god be so graceful again she must come.

No more than a fortnight later,

Us, some friends had a liberal reunion,

Amongst them was she,

someone- someone as stunning as shooting star.

 

To understand life, I realized, It takes an entire life,

And as I talked to this another ‘special’ girl,

I realized how easy was to fall in love,

Again and again, with someone and then the other.

And only later that day I realized,

With all the bits and pieces I could comprehend,

That love, in the simplest terms,has lost its essence.

and that each one of us, we pollute this holy water.

For such a river must flow pious

visible, only to the saint,

and all we are,

are some bloody sinners.

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.

Evil