A new beginning

To the sorrows of life, i now bid adieu,

For the world is a better place ,

Now that i’ve met you

Logic and reason , they make no sense,

For the love we share now

Requires no “hence” 

The sky is brighter, the moon shines more,

For the only thing missing now

Is an open door

To the sorrows of life, i now bid adieu,

For the world is a better place ,

Now that i’ve met you


Anonymous inspiration

He could think , he could act ,
He could sure write , for a fact.
But the only thing he missed was,
An inspiration that could fulfil his cause !

The world, to him, was a big giant ball,
That couldn’t understand the pain of his fall ,
Or the sadness of his heart , or even the plight of his soul,
As he still searched for his ultimate goal !

His heart said “he could!” ,His mind said it not ,
The more he moved in the mire , the deeper it got !
He had ran out of ideas , ran out of words,
And ran out of the emotions he saw or heard !

But then came an aura , an anonymous one ,
Told him , “when i say this don’t think of a pun”,
“You are not meant to be a geek or a nerd,
Rather you could be the one to change the world” !

Struck-dumb he sat , and boggled he looked,
By the words that the aura had just cooked,
So he smiled and grabbed his good old pen ,
And started to write again and again !

He was still dubious about the fact ,
That the world would change with his act ,
But the aura that had sparkled at night ,
Gave him a reason to write what’s right !


Ps: wink wink ! 😀


The monster under my bed is not a scary one,

It plays with me and I intend no pun.

I know it can harm me but the world’s no less,

no less than a monster or rather a scary mess.

We live in an age of the invisible crime,

occurring at each and every clock’s chime.

Not that its invisible because we don’t see it,

just that we make no effort and blindly sit.


The monster under my bed is not a scary one,

At least not scarier than those with a gun,

or a knife in hand, trying to mask their deed,

done while they were high on crack or weed !

The world that i speak of is a mere circus,

whose clowns are not funny and the stage bears a carcass,

of the humanity that once used to live, alive,

in the hearts of people, pure and naive .

This world whose end i can see so soon,

will shatter in pieces with the rise of the moon.

Even the monster under my bed would cry to survive,

as, to bring a change in this evil world, we strive !!



The winds pass my ears in playful flee ,
The freedom exasperating and free .
Thinking the better of it when i speed down the slope ,
It fills me with joy and a ray of hope !

Hope , that someday when I reach the ground ,
I’ll not be alone in the vicinity, I found .
Although I hit hard on the ground , I ,
Think , again , the better of it , not willing to die !

Free fall is what they call my experience to be ,
Drained out from the riches, to the lower degree.
My mind had known from the days it worked ,
That on every golden window, poverty lurked !

As higher we go , so lower we fall ,
And so is true for one and for all .
We must know the taste of ground,
Even if we are rich and profound !

So when you reach the heights , like i did one day ,
I would surely want you to stay …
To stay in the luxury of fortune and do ,
Everything unlike what I used to do !


Disclaimer – this is the story of a rich and successful person , who has suddenly been trapped by the hands of poverty , and has lost all his riches . He tells his story in a sad manner , wishing that everyone else does not the same mistakes that he did !
One should never be proud of the amount of money or property he has , what matters is the heart inside !


My hands lay beneath the shower of your blessing , oh lord,
To prevent the adversities that the clash of the sword ,
And bows and arrows do certainly make ,
As the reals fight for the ancestral fake !

They quarrel over some ancient deed ,
And to the pool of blood , they pay no heed ,
How so I wish I could have blocked them now ,
And settled for a state of peace , somehow !

But peace seems no less than a distant dream ,
To the blast of sorrow and voices of scream ,
As a matter of honour , they lay their lives ,
Leaving in dilemma , their daughters and wives …

As I wish for the flag of peace to flutter high ,
And if it can’t , then for once , just try ,
To think the better of it as a whole ,
And appreciate the piousness of every soul ..!



As the bird sat down ,
Beside me in my garden ,
It asked something with a frown ,
And the voice started to harden …

“How to fly ?” , it asked ,
In a singi-songi way ,
Some sort of aggression it masked ,
And some hope , it couldn’t say ..

As my mouth glued due to lack of reply ,
By the thought of teaching a bird to fly ,
Somewhere inside me i knew ,
That this could be an experience new …

As i started to teach with a smile on my face ,
It flew away to join in the nature’s race …
Maybe i interpreted it in a wrong way ..
And i stood there with nothing else to say !



Thinking about the days ,
Of both laughter and cry ,
I found new ways ,
To say goodbye …

This is to the child in me ,
That still wanders in search ,
Of a small lollypop and chocolate pastry ,
And happiness in the heart’s dearth !

Who knows no good ,
Nor bad he knows …
Is innocent like a wood ,
And the face of truth , he shows …

This is to the lovely childhood ,
That i spent and cherish ,
Which still can uplift my mood ,
Or can make me cry ,
For this childhood i miss , now ,
Asks me the question “why?” !!