Sunday, July 9, 2017

The Lock

She settled herself
on that seemingly polished rock
facing that age old fence
she gazed forward
and saw that rusty lock

Who has the key
to unlock this gate
who can trespass
her very own fate

As if the nature tried
with might of rays and rain
to unshackle that fence
to make it wide open
as if it failed and said
"Please, break it on your own."

She knew it has to be her
she knew it has to be now
she stood up with a smile
so unhinged and strikingly wry
but those eyes, so assured
aimed very deep, far and high.


Tuesday, June 21, 2016

I open at the close

I was right there...
standing at the beginning...
my most useless thoughts,
cutting the edges,they sing.
something to resolve, something to mend...
And just then, I realized,
Oh! f***, this is the end.

Friday, June 10, 2016

The third person

It can be jeered
for its placid ill-timed moves.
It can be sneered
as it shows and itself proves.

It crumbles sometimes
by an unlikely measured shot.
It fumbles sometimes
while trying a snappy retort.

But it can be seen
from that dark and dusty dungeon.
And it can be heard
and felt and so on...

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Obscure touches

She felt it,
a heightened sense of niceness.
A bit cold, a  bit cajoling,
and that seemingly safety fence.
She tried to like it,
she loved it not.

She felt it again,

a heightened sense of calmness.
A bit human, a bit surreal,
and an urge to observe the silence.
She absolutely loved it,
she loved it a lot.

Friday, February 27, 2015

The Rebel Within



These are the rules,
you need to follow.
These are the people,
you never say ‘hello’.
These are the words,
you never utter.
These are the things,
that makes you better.

But what if I choose
the rule not followed,
and take those pills
that nobody swallowed.
What if I befriend
some lawless folks,
and try to infringe
those uncanny locks.

You want to judge,
then judge yourself.
You want to teach,
then you need some help.
I choose my life.
I play the bet.
I am the master
of my own fate.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Leaves...

Plenty of leaves,
ripped and dried.
inept to express,
yet, it tried.
And when they rot,
nicking, what they have till date,
kills that part, fresh and green
as neither it fought nor defied.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Sometime...

Sometime, eyes do stop,
before even you see that right.
a sense of joy feels your heart,
out your soul, from all the plight.

Sometime, legs do retreat,
before even that war begins.
you only see the loss it stores,
and it doesn't matter, whoever wins.

Sometime, dreams do shatter,
before even you go to sleep.
and you realize, you aren't sleepy at all.
So here you are, alive again,
ready to take that giant leap.