Farmer’s pride

The farmer stares,

At open skies,

Hopelessly searching,

For fluffy thick clouds.

To his dismay,

The sky is blue,

The sun is out,

Shining shamelessly brightly.

His crops wither,

The rich soil surface cracks,

His dream crumble,

But he hasn’t lost hope.

He stares again,

At the open sky,

For one last time,

He prays silently.

A small drop of water,

Falls on his rough skin,

Waking him up,

From his sorrow filled dream.

He cries in delight,

As he watches,

Drizzle turn into rain,

Giving life to his dreams.

Caged

 

Caged by his own insecurities,

He sits in own miseries,

Some created by him,

And some by his surroundings.

He stares at the sight outside ,

Happy and joyous ,

The birds fly,

Singing the songs of merriment.

He is envious, 

And sorrowed at his own plight,

Burdened by his sufferings,

He plans to escape out into the blue sky.

The door of cage,

Is unlocked and wide open,

He takes one step out,

Slow and steady.

Fear grips him suddenly,

Pushing him back to his misery,

He returns back 

Sad and unhappy,

He watches,

The happy flock of birds enjoy,

Their freedom.

Party leader and his dogs

With head up high,

And one leg resting on head of his loyal servant,

He sits with pride,

On the throne gifted by his forefathers,

Who had obtained it through heinous means.

His ability is in question,

His intelligence is zero,

He knows nothing,

Except singing songs,

Taught by his father.

Other congressmen loathe him,

Public despise him,

While his dogs lick him,

With false praises and glorification,

Of his ordinary deeds.

His sins are painted,

As pious and reverent,

With hope to win votes,

And bribe the tears,

Of minorities and needy.

With head up high,

He smiles,

And his dogs guards his throne,

By barking at the deserved ones,

And fighting off the opponents. 

The Haunted House

Surrounded by thick forest,

Filled with ghastly energy,

An abandoned mansion stands,

Huge and unearthly.

As one escapes,

Out from the fearful woods,

To that abandoned mansion,

Unaware that it traps lonely souls.

The house is a puzzle,

With no escape doors,

Except for one,

That is visible only to pure souls.

Fools dared to enter the woods,

With hope to show the world,

Their stories of bravery and adventure,

Perished with no trace.

Many pass by the forest,

Where the abandoned house stands,

Huge and unearthly,

Waiting patiently for it’s next prey.

Happiness is where your heart is.

Happiness is,

When your heart smiles,

Even during stormy nights,

And the struggles seem worthwhile.

Happiness is,

When you heart sings,

To the beats of love,

While you hold your partner's hand for the first time.

Happiness is ,

When your heart flies,

As you take tiny step,

Towards making your dream a reality.

Happiness is,

When your heart is at peace,

Even when people struggle with Monday blues,

And you are at ease throughout the week.

Happiness is,

Where you heart is,

Even if it's plain country side,

Or a palatial house facing the seashore.

Truth

Truth is bitter,

Raw and pure,

Until it's mixed,

With lies,

To protect few,

And harm others.

Truth is unanswered question,

Like hidden treasure,

Or mine filled with minerals,

Ready to be unearthed,

But left untouched,

In fear of revealing something dreadful.

Truth is mystery,

Until it is debunked,

By the curious cats,

Within us,

While world watches,

With wide eyes.

The Lion and his perfect spot

As the sun goes down,

The sky turns purple-pink,

And it's time,

For arrival of mighty king.

The cowardly wilder beasts,

And gentle giants,

Feast on wet grasses,

While their king arrives.

The lion king arrives,

With unbroken pride,

And strolls his land lazily,

Searching for perfect spot to rest.

And he gets,

What he wants,

A perfect place,

To rest and then hunt,

While the others continue with their work.

A Better World

 Imagine!

A day filled with positivity,

Opportunities in abundance,

And ideas unlimited,

As we sit down to work,

With no Monday blues,

Only focus and good mood.

Imagine!

A future filled with hope,

With no inhibitions,

Or angst of tomorrow, 

Except courage to push us forward,

As we face uncertainties,

With smile and open hearts.

Imagine !

A better world ,

With no killings,

United by like minds,

And connected by souls,

Not by race or tribe,

Only by pure love.

Letters in a word

Letters in a word,

Are like pearl bead,

If joined together,

Makes words meaningful or jibber-jabber.

Like sea shells on vast ocean,

Carrying pearly treasures within,

These letters are unique on it's own,

Just plain symbols with no emotion.

Individuals are like alphabets,

When formed groups,

Achieve impossible expeditions,

And enhance one another.

Opinions are formed,

Judgments are passed,

Ideas are transformed,

With simple words.

When you replace a letter,

From one place to another,

Or with letter some other,

Meaning is distorted or discovered.

Lover's tiff

It started as sweet revenge,

Served with fun and no offence,

Over a prank she played not so long ago,

On usual lock down day.

He was in mood  for some fun,

While she stressed with unnecessary burden,

When two conflict,

A dispute was sure to happen.

He pulled her leg,

In pursuit for some laughter,

And to wile away time,

He spared for some relaxation.

She didn't recognize,

His innocent intention,

Instead assumed it as an argument,

Adding to the fury caused by day's stress.

A tiff began,

With no serious injuries,

To heart and the soul,

Deepening their love for each other.

Before it could grow,

Into something irreparable,

They stopped and smiled,

Hugged and apologized,

For words spoken and unsaid.

Work From Home

Everyday is a casual Friday,

With formal T Shirts and matching pyjamas,

A hot mug of coffee,

And a day filled with virtual meetings.

Breaks are not many,

Deadlines are too many,

As our bosses think we play all day,

We sit with our hands full on contrary.

Life is such a irony,

We missed home too many times,

But now boring drive to office,

Is all what we crave all day.

Those never ending business calls,

Those fluctuating internet connections,

And overstretched working hours,

Are the new challenges of our work lives.

While others complain,

My husband rejoices,

With new energy and zeal,

He balances work and life.

Paint your canvas

Paint your canvas,

With memories of love,

That reminds you of time,

That once stood still.

Paint your canvas,

With dreams of tomorrow,

That gives you hope,

And leads you to brighter future.

Paint your canvas,

With inspiration from great leaders,

Whose lessons of success and failures,

Helps you cope up with trials and errors.

Paint your canvas,

With words of wisdom,

That gives you power,

To face volatility of mind. 

Paint your canvas,

With colourful experiences,

That contains lessons, 

To guide when you are lost.

Paint your canvas ,

With faith and hope,

To make you strong,

When you fight your inner demons.

Tiny Little Things

Tiny little thrills,

That life gives,

Are like vodka shots,

Filled with slight doses of fear,

And gentle mix of excitement.

Tiny moments of happiness,

Are like glucose drips,

To burned out minds,

Working tirelessly,

To meet all ends.

Tiny little adventures,

Teach lessons of life,

Change perspectives,

Of conservative mind,

And turns cowardly into brave  .

Tiny little achievements,

Are like positive affirmations, 

Thwarting hopelessness,

And bringing in light of hope,

During the days of darkness.

Tiny little tokens of kindness ,

Can repair relationships,

Bring joy and happiness,

As well as enhance love,

With  strangers and closed acquaintances.

These tiny little moments, 

Makes this journey called life,

Filled with roadblocks like experiences,

Bearable and wonderful .

The Revolution

It's a same old story,

A thriving empire falls down,

Due to evil prince and his corrupt conspiracy.

A renaissance begins,

With sacrifice of an innocent soul,

And rebels are born to fight against malign sins.

With public outrage,

Corrupt leaders are brought down,

And their reputation is damaged.

Hope is instilled,

Talent is recognized,

And new empire is built.

History is created,

While world awaits patiently,

For their hero to arise from the revolution they initiated.

The evil prince is killed,

By his own traps,

Of lies, deceit and plans outdated,

And people dance to tunes of victory they achieved.

A stray dog and her hope

The sun shines brightly,
Like her hopes ignited within her softly,
As she thinks optimistically,
“Today will be extraordinary”

Her will is still strong,
As she gets shooed by everyone around  ,
While looking out for food all day long,
For her puppies who are hungry and torn.

The journey is tiring,
With only misery and suffering,
Yet her spirit is burning,
And her hope undying.

There is bag of boiled rice,
Placed outside the house,
 By someone wise,
With caring heart and soft eyes.

She picks it up happily,
Rejoicing each moment excitedly,
As she walks home animatedly,
To her pups waiting for her impatiently.

Weekday blues

Cramped shoulders, 

Tired hands,

Exhausted mind,

Difficult week,

But boy isn’t it weekend yet?

Never ending deadlines,

Overbearing demands,

Limited rewards,

Too many tasks,

But boy isn’t it weekend yet?

Sleepless nights,

Early wake up calls,

Constant virtual meetings,

And no consensus,

But boy isn’t it weekend yet?

Finally weekend arrives,

Self care mornings,

Good night cuddles,

Family unions,

And back to square,

Oh boy weekend is over.

Human touch

In the world of AI chat bots and what nots,
I crave for human touch everlasting and soft,
As well as someone who listens with no filtered thoughts,
And understands with no added cost,
While I share my stories of angst and dreaded thought.

The Stage Fright

She fumbles,

She trembles,

Her heart pounds,

At the thought,

Of facing people,

Known and unknown.

Her feet is getting colder,

With every passing minute,

She may turn into ice sculpture,

If she stayed longer.

Her heart is dancing,

To tunes of fear,

While she watch her competitors,

Articulating their speech,

With par excellence. 

She wants to escape,

From embarrassment,

And thoughts of what they will say,

When she will speak,

In front of crowd,

That may swallow her,

With their icy stares.

Her name is called, 

Her heartbeat stops,

She freezes,

And then with little courage ,

She rises to face.

Her mouth is dry,

Her mind is blank,

As she glances,

At empty stares of large audience.

Finally ray of hope strikes,

A new found energy arrives,

Fear loses and she wins,

As she speaks the words, 

Of her own,

To the people,

Known and unknown.

Hope

Hope is optimism,

Of a spiritual enlightener,

Distributing faith,

Believing one day ,

He would revive faith ,

In ignorant soul.

Hope is anticipation,

Of an anxious child,

Wishing his teacher doesn’t arrive ,

To check his incomplete assignment.

Hope is excitement,

Of expecting mother,

Eager to meet her unborn child,

She has held,

For nine tiring months.

Hope is belief,

Of a soldier’s wife,

Praying for his life,

Day and night,

As he protests his nation,

From any attack from enemy.

Hope is expectation,

Of an old woman,

Waiting each day,

For her son’s call,

To hear his voice,

And check if he’s fine .

Hope is longing,

Of a lover,

Missing her beloved,

Separated by distance,

As well as pandemic lockdown.

Hope is desire ,

Of daughter in law,

To be accepted,

By her new family,

Without any judgements,

And expectations.

Hope is yearning,

Of an avid job seeker,

Assuming one day,

His talent would be recognised,

Instead of experience.

Hope is everything,

That drives one’ passion,

Towards goal,

One sets in life.

Little Hanuman and the exotic fruit

The little Hanuman,

With big wide eyes,

Stares at the sun,

In amazement.

"Is it fruit ?",

He wonders,

While he drools,

Over the thought,

Of having a bite.

He flies,

Towards the sky,

After the delicious fruit,

For a bite.

The sun,

Afraid and Anxious,

Took shelter of the mighty Indra,

The King of Devtas.

The little Hanuman,

Unfazed by the might,

Of Lord Indra,

Thought Indra's elephant,

As a toy.

He lunged forward,

Only to be pushed,

By mighty Indra,

With his thunderbolt.

Little Hanuman's face bloated,

And Vayu, the wind God got alarmed,

At the sight of Little Hanuman,

Wincing in pain.

He carried him,

And locked himself,

In a cave,

In despair.

The animals started dying,

The plants began withering,

And Gods became anxious,

Thus they gathered outside the cave.

They prayed,

They begged,

They appealed,

For Lord Vayu,

To come out of the cave.

The Gods blessed little Hanuman,

With strength and prosperity.

With knowledge and wisdom.

With power and immortality. 

Lord Vayu was pleased,

And his despair turned into joy,

Letting the mortals breathe in ease,

And making all the Gods happy.

Little Hanuman blessed and happy,

Returned home,

To arms of his loving mother.

An Old fetish

He watches with wide eyes,

That delicate juicy jalebis,

On the big TV screen,

Displaying continuous commercial ads.

His mouth slurps,

His heart longs,

For one small bite,

Of his favorite sweet.

The sweet smell,

Of freshly fried jalebis,

Lingers in his mind,

While he watches the commercial ad.

He turns his gaze,

To his loving daughter,

Working on her laptop,

With two minds,

On how to share his desire. 

He remembers the good old days,

At the sweet shop few blocks away,

Where he would endlessly stare,

At that delicate juicy jalebis,

And bring home many boxes of them.

Suddenly bell rings,

His daughter opens the door,

Gets a familiar looking box,

And serves it on a plate,

For overly excited him.

Isolate

Isolate yourself,
From toxic filled thoughts,
That are like big dark clouds,
Hiding your sunshine.

Isolate yourself,
From negative people,
Who are road blocks,
On your path to success.

Isolate yourself,
From constant frustration,
That pulls you,
Away from your goal.

Isolate yourself ,
From unnecessary worries,
That drowns you,
Into ocean  of despair.

Isolate yourself,
From anxieties ,
That cripple your abilities,
To fly.

Isolate yourself ,
From illness,
That has spread across the world,
Like wildfire,
Crippling the economies,
And taking away thousands of lives.

All she wants

Precious stones,
Priceless jewels,
Doesn’t attract her anymore,
Like it used to during her youthful days.

Exotic travels,
Luxury palaces,
She enjoyed once upon a time,
Bores her now.

Those pompous fiesta,
And celebratory parties,
She always longed for ,
Doesn’t matter to her anymore.

The fantasies,
Classic literature,
Delighted her once upon a time ,
Now do not entice her anymore.

All she wants,
Is eternal love,
That is everlasting,
And fulfilling,
And completes her.

Doing Nothing

I lay on the couch,

With blank expression,

And head longing for little sleep,

Doing nothing,

On this warm lazy day.

I stare at the ceiling,

Not completely plain white,

With thin cracks ,

That looks like wrinkle lines,

On a lady ageing naturally.

The couch is cozy,

Making  me even more lazy,

Though I have piles of work in process,

I m in no mood to start.

Soft breeze from the fan,

Blows on my face,

Making me relaxed,

And extend my break,

From tedious workload .

I drown into thoughts momentarily,

About work , life and future,

But come back instantly ,

To zone of  tranquility,

Living every moment at the present .

I still have few minutes ,

To do nothing,

And think nothing,

Except lie on the couch,

And enjoy the moments,

Of doing nothing,

False media

They paint lies,
With deceit and guile,
To please their greed for a while,
And keeping their false pride high.

They manipulate innocent,
In the name of religion ,
By presenting truth as fiction,
And tolerant as intolerant.

They promote dishonesty,
Corrupt and false truths,
And fabricated proofs ,
In form of stories filled with tragedy.

They brainwash youth,
Against the nation ,
By reality fabrication,
And painted truth.

Let’s unite as a nation,
And fight against these grifters,
Swindlers and fraudsters,
Painting false pictures of our nation.

The Lock down Poem

Life slowed down,

With markets rates dropping down,

Business and schools shutting down,

When Government announced lock down.

Panic spread like fire,

With people going haywire,

Buying everything more than they require,

While poor and old watch them in horror.

While I write this poem peacefully,

My neighbor's pressure cooker whistles sharply,

Notifying me and others(neighbors) that my neighbor is cooking finally,

After years of ordering food outside repeatedly.

The lit up houses,

Look like shiny stars

On warm cozy nights,

With bonding in families,

Getting better with coming days.

Children are happier,

Watching their family come together,

Praying God that time stays like this forever,

And ever and ever.

Life may have slowed,

Businesses may have closed,

Relations have been mended,

Earth has healed,

But pray that sick and infected,

Get recovered soon. 

Inspirations

Inspirations are dreams,

A dreamer dreams,

With eyes closed,

Or eyes open wide.

Inspirations are ideas,

Sometimes vague or sometimes clear,

That pops in minds,

Like a striking thunder bolt.

Inspirations are solutions,

Emerging from problems,

One faces in their lives,

Filled with challenges and dangers.

Inspirations are discoveries,

Of new found technologies,

That may aid human efforts,

Or enhance their life expectancy.

Inspirations are hopes,

Within us,

For better future,

And increased strength.

Inspirations are other's victories,

Earned after many struggles, 

Several defeats and hardships,

And never giving up attitude.

Inspirations are plain inspirations,

Born out of hope,

Built from an imaginations,

To form a vision,

From a dream,

A dreamer dreams.

Seasons and moods

Seasons are like moods,
Of a child,
Always changing,
With free will,
To suit their demands.

The season of spring,
Is like a happy child,
Always smiling and twinkling,
Bringing joy to everyone,
Watching them play.

The season of summer,
Is like angry child,
Always screaming and hollering,
To fulfil unwanted demands,
And satisfy their terrible tantrums.

The season of autumn,
Is like child,
Calmed down,
After terrible storm,
Or planning their next mischief.

The season of winter,
Is like gloomy child,
On verge to break down,
And in desperate need,
To be hugged and loved.

As the cycle of season ends,
New year begins,
With new challenges,
But cycle of seasons remains the same,
Like the moods of a child.

That old dusted books

That old dusted books,
Lying in corner,
Of one of the racks,
Of your closet,
You hardly visit.

That old dusted books,
Remains neglected and abandoned,
By your gracious touch,
And sharp gaze,
That shines with excitement,
When you read every word,
Written from that old dusted books.

That old dusted books,
Hides treasures,
Of precious stories and enchanting folktales,
That ones excited your mind,
When you first picked up the book,
From your favourite book store.

That old dusted books,
Were once your devoted lover,
Caring your curious mind,
With new words you never heard ,
And lessons you will always cherish.

That old dusted books,
Once helped you forget sadness,
And hardships you faced in lives,
Making you smile brightly,
Even if it was for few seconds.

That old dusted books,
Sits on one of racks,
Of your closet,
That you never visit,
Waiting to be held,
By your gracious hands,
Like you held it,
The first time. 

The Valentine's Day Timeline

It's Valentine's Day,
The day of love,
When they finally say,
How much they love,
One and another,
Forever and ever.

The next day arrives,
Their tummy still flutters,
When they kiss and cuddle,
And look into each other's eyes,
For hours together,
Forever and ever.

A month pass by,
Their love is strong,
But not as sturdy,
Like the day they promised to stay lifelong.

Six months fly,
Quickly and swiftly,
They are drifting rapidly,
Due to their fights that is occurring constantly,
And their ego that is meddling their minds ceaselessly.

It's already nine months,
They have parted ways,
Their love wasn't victorious,
And lost it's fight against their egos.
After months of differences,
Growing within them.

A year has passed,
It's Valentine's Day again,
This time they are professing,
Love to not another,
But to their respective partners,
With a promise,
To stay together,
Forever and ever.

Charmed

With vengeance she arrived,

She glared and flared,

At the name of her adversary,

Searching him everywhere with fury,

And finally he appeared.

When he arrived,

His magic worked,

She forgot her vengeance instantly,

And love blossomed immediately,

Her anger disappeared.

An Innocent Desire

She waits eagerly,

With her eyes growing wide,

Every passing hour,

Standing stationary,

On one place,

Like the statue of Liberty.

She waits eagerly,

With her beating faster,

And minutes passing quickly,

She prays,

"Please let him come quickly?"

She waits eagerly,

While she holds the folded note tightly,

Which she had preserved it so dearly,

From small income she earned diligently,

As a stewardess at the local Dhabba.

An ice cream cart arrives,

She jumps and squeals,

As her wait is over,

She rushes to him,

Before anyone arrives,

To snatch her precious delicacy.

The cart owner stares,

Down at her unkempt hair,

Worn out dress,

And her small figure,

His heart breaks,

As he realizes,

She is only five years old.

He offers her the best flavor,

With a smile,

He declines,

Her money.

She leaves,

Happy and Excited,

Towards a small tent,

Which is her home,

Where her toddler brother plays,

And unwell mom sleeps peacefully.

She offers her brother,

Her favorite delicacy,

Watches him devour,

The one she had desired.

Nature and it's fury

Nature's fury,

Boils slowly and sweltry,

While we harm her unassumingly,

Without any care for future that is arriving so quickly.

Nature's fury,

Is like lava hot and fiery,

Almost ever ready,

To burn everything in it's savagery.

Nature's fury,

Is killing us slowly,

By releasing gases that are deadly,

To punish us for mistakes caused by us intentionally.

Nature's fury,

Is burning us steadily,

Through forest fires that are wild and frequently,

Damaging lives innocent as well as guilty.

Nature's fury,

Will increase crazily,

With days passing by rapidly,

Unless we do something quickly.

Lost and Found

She lost time,

On random thoughts,

About life and moments,

She never cared about,

But found something precious,

Than the time lost,

Which was beautiful memories.

He worked hard,

Losing his energy,

And shedding his blood,

On building a life,

That he once wanted,

For his family and little kids.

She touched her wrinkled face,

That once was soft,

And glowed with good health,

But when her chirpy grandson,

Crawled into her lap,

She relived again,

Watching him smile.

His heart broke,

His love was lost,

He fell,

Only to raise up stronger,

Happier and Taller,

To face the world,

With new found energy.

As years passed by,

Life evolved,

Several spices went extinct,

While new spices came into life,

And the chain of life cycle restarted again.

You lose something,

Only to find something,

That is more valuable,

Priceless and sweet.

Little Red Riding Hood Revisited.

Little Red Riding Hood,
Walked alone through the wood,
Carrying basket full of food,
Baked for her darling Granny.

Unaware and Unassuming,
About the danger stalking,
In form of big grey wolf watching,
Her every single step.

Suddenly she turns around,
To see the wolf astound,
By her sudden halt,
Fearing his presence is now known.

Her eyes turn wide,
Not with fear and fright,
But with joy and delight,
As she paces closer to him.

The wolf's cold gaze,
Melts into warm stare,
Waiting to be cuddled,
By his favorite human.

She hugs him tight,
With all love she has,
While he tries to steal,
Some baked goodies in the basket.

The wolf is her pet,
Being away from her what he detest,
Hence he follows her,
Everywhere she goes.