What Society Says
A note for youngsters
Which has voice of youth embedded
To take the charge positively
To uncover hijackers of our dreams
Colour of my sky
If Life exists in alive,
Dreams die in it,
If alive has Confusion,
Sometimes clarity drives it,
Alive has only two ears
Hustle of Multiple opinions exists
Hunger to live all dreams
Then pressure of society kills
Memories of my Beloved
Today the sky is also changing colours to help me in recalling those old and beautiful memories. Blue hues in the sky remind me of the memories I spent with my beloved when we were together in the mornings. Morning filled with freshness, the view of her – open hair dampened in water.
Toy Story: Baby Boss
I am the baby boss. I like my dad’s shoulder to sleep on. Because it always keeps moving and I feel like I am having a ride. (Dad was walking carrying the baby in hand while doing work or in the market) I was sleeping and a bubble came and popped on my nose.
Worried
Worried me in some minutes
As clock’s hands move
Rotation after rotation
Hence, overthinking was proved.
Monsoon
Listen to the roar
What does it say?
Riddles on roofs
knocks on sheds
So loud, so clear
Monsoon…
Humans
Abusers who say
They are Hu-man
You are right as you are
Hungry Unrepentant Man
Impatient cruel women
Betrayal
I promised a book
of dreams to myself
I promised a holder
of achievement to myself
From Nights to Mornings
I remember when I slept everything was so silent and dead. I was so stressed and sad. I had a bad day and a bad evening completely messed up. All alone I was in bed with tears, my tissues and some anxious breaths. I was breathing but choking too.
Unknown
Do we know anyone? Do we know ourselves? Okay, if we know then how much? We think we know everyone. We are humans, social beings. Socialising is our nature. We never live alone, we are surrounded with so many people.
Energetic Baby Boss
Then as I sat in between them, I started my energetic dance.
Hop…hop…wiggle wiggle…hop hop…wiggle-wiggle…
A tap on mom’s cheek and a kick on dad’s hand. Grabbed mom’s hair in my crab like hands and pulled them.
Under the Elms
While waiting
A being
not a fine wine
with popped clogs
In bright darkness
To shackle a spirit
Saying No
Hundreds of honks
Too much of mourns
Free roamers around
Satirical situations
She is Devi but no proud
Nature’s Beauty
Making me sing
And reach the fumes
Greenery my audience
Pebbles hustling
Cheerful flowers
Bees buzzing
Loneliness
With the cracks
of your earnestness
I can see the locked doors;
all around you
barren but crucial walls;
Simplicity
I peeped in you
you never expelled
Ur paled face is as simple as
pattern on a shell
Baby Boss: Ghost Buster
I am the baby boss.
Have you ever seen a ghost?
I see ghosts everyday …You can call me a Ghostbuster.
I was sleeping 😴…
Hope and Motivation
A ray of hope and a word of motivation can sprinkle the fragrance of enthusiasm and desire in life of a person who is lost in darkness.
Acid Splash: – Penetration of Slow Poison
Page flipped…
In a Crematorium crowded by people in white. Grief and sorrow were ruling over that funeral rite. Near the burning dead body of her father, she was standing deadly in front of my sight. Her head was covered with a white wrinkled dupatta.
Dumped Under Trash
Just see the irony
You created yourself
You wanted to live in villa
instead of almost dead under trash
What Is Success?
Yes, we are successful when we think about this question. It means we are analysing and observing ourselves. We are successful when we allocate the scope of improvement. But when we desire for everything in excess, we are not really successful.
Understand This Being a Man
Understand this…
Need of the hour is just your expression,
Not of the ego but of loneliness and depression;
Humans: Emotions and Thoughts
What’s the point of living in such a situation? If we put ourselves secondary and other people as primary in our life. At the end of the day, we have to face ourselves?
I wish I could
I wish I could see you
And could say forgive me
I wish I could make you smile
I wish I’ll be new not actually I
You are a Poet
You are a poet
As you wrote, so what three lines
Food is hunger
Clothes are stroke of mud
Oh, shelter is sky
I in Crowd
What matters is disgust
Grinding two beans
I have unknown voices
roaming around me
Hard to Breathe
It’s hard to breathe sometimes
But I am writing to catch my breath,
In lamentable couple of minutes and hours
My eyes turn so heavy to blink,
Seeds of happy dandelion
Touched me many times,
Indifference
It’s you, It’s me
Or say we are we
You criticize
I hold it in myself
I doubt its beauty…
Anxious Silence
No freedom, no rights…
Listening to something
Something horrible
Yes, it is that only
Juggle is not
Key to success
It’s just a process
Waiting
In a waiting room
Fingers grasping a shroud,
Ay, shroud of moments
When I was happy as a Clam,
Ah, so what? Now you have
Skin all burnt…