Long gone Youth

His eyes are still bright,

Though he cannot see,

Clear blue sea,

That brushes him slight.

His ears still longs for that voice,

So melodious and mellifluous,

Now he has no choice,

But listen to nature's raucous.

His lips are dry,

Like the barren land,

They curl up into smile,

As he remembers sweet memories of holding her hand.

His bald head shines,

Which was once filled with hair,

Long, thick and fine,

Waving and dancing in the air.

Youth held his hand,

Like gorgeous trophy wife,

Making him beam with pride,

While his ego grew leaps and bound.

One fine day,

He woke up from his dream,

And found himself alone,

With no one to care,

Only memories of past

That were once so sweet.

This journey called Life

There will be hiccups,
And there will be smooth landings,
But one must not give up hope,
In this journey called Life.


Relationship you once sowed,
With love and care,
May break apart,
But one must not give up hope,
In this journey called Life.

After season of good times,
Comes the severe drought,
Making us desire cool breeze,
But one must not give up hope,
In this journey called Life.

Success and Failures,
Are part of picture,
That is bigger and brighter,
But one must not give up hope,
In this journey called Life.

People will say,
Words of wisdom or folly,
That may take you up,
Or pull you down,
But one must not give up hope,
In this journey called Life.

The cycle of sorrow,
Will end surely,
And bright sun will shine,
Over you,
In this journey called Life.

What shall I write?

What shall I write,

I think casually,

On cool Friday evening,

With my eyes open wide,

Staring at empty post,

Blank and bright.

What shall I write,

I ponder and wonder,

While rejecting the ideas,

Wandering in my mind.

What shall I write,

A poem or short tale,

That makes one smile,

After coming from tiring day.

What shall I write,

To satisfy my creative cravings,

And love for written art,

On this lazy Friday evening.

What shall I write,

Is puzzle on my mind,

Unsolved and untouched,

Like a hidden treasure.

What shall I write,

I think restlessly,

While time flies by,

And my hubby arrives,

Hungry for dinner,

That I am yet to cook.

Summer nights

On cool summer nights,

The breeze is feast,

To hot bodies,

Burning due to heat.

It's that time of year,

When we lay on terrace tops,

To watch stars twinkling,

And bright moon shining,

Above us.

During those nights,

Closed ones get together,

To share juicy stories,

Or make false spook tales.

Waking up till odd hours,

To watch first ray of light,

Fall on our tired faces,

As we cuddle in our thin blankets.

It's camping night,

On terrace top,

For days until holidays end,

And we are back to monotony,

Of our lives,

Back to school,

With mind full of memories.

The Gossipmongers

Insecure and desperate,
With lives of their own,
They ruin others smile,
By spreading lies,
To bring smile on their face.

Juicy scoops,
Of that girl next door,
Or colourful tales,
Of that guy who looks rouge,
They are never short of any lies.

Walls have ears,
Because of them,
As they snoop behind doors,
To watch the dramas,
Of other people homes.

They are like wild fires,
Spreading quickly,
Entertaining those not involved,
But Destroying houses of ones,
Tangled in this mess.

They spread news,
Like game called Chinese whispers,
Changing the stories,
Adding flavors,
Wherever they like.

They are found everywhere,
Within your social circle,
In form of nosy relatives,
Or toxic friends,
Or jealous colleagues,
And day will come,
When they are victims of their own actions.

The Ego and it's friends

A tiny little desire,

to scale up higher,

grew larger and bigger,

with ever step.

Ego took place of desire,

In form of wildfire,

Burning relationships,

And anything that came in it's way.

Ego bought in its friends,

Lust and arrogance,

To corrupt mind,

With all things evil.

The pride arrived,

When ego appeared,

From the same seed,

Called tiny little desire.

When mind got disillusioned,

By the mirage of success,

Anger seeped in,

With his sister hate.

From these nine emotions,

Greed was born,

To trap the soul,

To confinements of  misery.

Suddenly hope arrived,

From spiritual blessings of God,

Burning each negative emotion,

Replacing them with kindness and submission,

To Lord Almighty

Other side of the world

Grass is greener,

Air is cleaner,

Life is beautiful,

At the other side of the world.

She looks happy,

He looks lucky,

And everything looks good,

At the other side of the world..

The plate is  served golden,

Filled with delicacies,

And sweetmeat,

At the other side of the world.

Cities are wide,

Filled with riches,

That is enough for generation,

At the other side of the world.

Tables get turned,

Life looks lacklustre,

What seemed nice once,

Looks dull and dead,

Once you reach the other side of the world.

Stop whining,

Stop complaining,

Grass will always,

Look greener and brighter,

At other side of the world.