Your Story

Who will tell the stories
if not you?

The world will never
come to know
what you have been through,

Only if you will tell them
why you are like this

they will come to know.

So, sit not idle,
and, wait not for someone else,
to tell your stories to others,

equip yourself,

and tell them yourself,
who you are

and what is it that you want
to become.

Claim

There was nothing strange in it
except the fact
that It made me happy.

That you remember me
and sometimes think about me,

You might not remember
how I looked like,
The colour of my hair
or of my eyes

But still in your prayers
you said, 'I am always present'.

I sometimes claimed
in my mind that I missed
you everyday.

I still doubt my claim
but I think that, It might be true.

Choice

Who are we to decide?

but we still do,
about a lot of things,

we think,
we have choices to make,

but we never ask the chosen
what did they wanted,

Do choices have a choice to?

they might have,

the choices could have skipped
but they remained.

Sins

We inflict pain on people
who will never harm us.

They just try to heal you.
act as a medicine,

They are the chosen ones 
by God.

We must pray for them
and promise

that we will
not impose anything on them,
which is undue.

They must live as beacons of hope
of sanctity
of peace
and of happiness,

someday they will forgive
for all our sins.

Dreamland

I dream of a dreamland
which is away of right and wrongs

a place where we can live
and we will
in perpetuity.

There, nobody will question
my motives,
my believes,
my love for living and dead.

You can come there someday,

when you are free from
all the obstacles,
the shackles,
the usual chains of this world.

we will see the light as light,
we will see the night as night,
we will see the truth as truth,
and not as anything else.

There we can be together,
without remorse,
without fears,

but till then you live in the hope
that such a land exists

for you and for me.

Winters

Where has all the laughter gone?

these pale faces in the cold winters
look so scary,

All the blood from their body
has been sucked,

all that is left is a skeleton
and a heart.

The heart beats
but I am not sure
it pumps any blood into the veins.

They are dead.
They are trying to act alive.

But how long?
How long will they be
able to do that?

Will the coming autumn bring
cheer in their life too?

When life takes away things
why does it takes away the most
from those who already have less?

Is not nature unfair?

But the sun gives them the same heat.

But is that heat is enough in this weather?
Certainly not!




 

True Poetry

True poetry is difficult to write

baring the truth may
offend people,

it may be insulting for them
or sometimes for you.

So we always choose the story
which is harmless,

As Budhha said "Choose the middle path",

but the strength does not come
in the middle,

it lies at extremes,

when you search for those
roads which are less travelled,

walking on them may hurt
your feet and many thorns
will pierce you.

but my friend
the poetry without the blood
is not worth reading. 

Pause

All that is there
is not going to remain forever,

why not take some time
and look at them
till they are here,

the dreams may wait,
but not the present,

It will pass sooner than ever.

These faces will not be as happy
as they are today,

they seek your attention
and when you will really get
the time ,
they might turn pale,

the future may wait
but not the present,

It is better sooner than later.

Silence

Sometimes I prefer not to say anything

I think in doing that I hope
that my silence may reach to them
to whom my words can't.

But do they hear my silence?

Will they understand
that I liked it
when they remembered me

but didn't tell them
how beautiful feeling it was
given the depth of those feelings.

Can the feelings
really travel and connect
to those who evoke them in us?

I believe they do.
they have done that in the past.

so maybe on days
when I am silent
I can still be heard by those who listen.

Bridges

Sometimes I think

why am I
making these bridges?

will they take me

to that side
on reaching where I can relax.

will it really happen?

or these bridges will never
get complete

I feel like
I will be standing forever
on the corner of
one of these bridges

and someday
will fly to that world
from where nobody comes back.