THE MASK...

Every day when sun sets,

In the quiet he comes to rest,

And when the night falls,

Joker has his mask off,
From his face to hands,
Along with the farce,
Silently the smile crawls.
Joy is all to be shared,
But when you do!
Does the world care?
An impetus charming soul,
Beneath it all, dark as coal.
Look into the abyss of the eyes,
To find the true emotion,
Even a master of senses,
Can’t defy his intentions.

They say a violin cries,
Does it?
Every tune is distinct to every ear,
What’s in the mind,
Is what you hear.
Each thought brings up a memory,
And so a grin, laughter, tears or a smile.
But then we are all a Joker,
In this marvelous act,
We hide the self,
With society you made a pact.
Out of luck or fate as you may say,
You meet an acquaintance,
Well groomed at your best,
Every word makes sense.
Both say the feeling was intense,
He knows the display was mere pretense.
He knows a man, or a Joker,
Getting ready for his act,
Can feel the tremor.
He stares in his eyes in the mirror,
As he puts up his mask,
His hands may not shiver,
But the eyes do quiver...

SELFLESS SELFISH SOUL...

Why does he indulge in good deeds,

Is it cause his heart wills,

Or is it his own need?

To search the lost human bond,

To find a place close to God.

He showers wealth to the needy,

Truth is he himself is greedy,

For the peace it brings.

Every once in a while,

His heart wishes to beat for someone,

Other than oneself,

To be the selfless being, to be the man,

The one God created himself.

Lonely in person may be hurtful,

But lonely in mind is helpful.

Helps one find the person,

Lost in chaos,

Far more pure, far more truthful.

How better to define irony,

Than a blind man wearing dark glasses,

And those with sight,

Oblivious to the need, the tears, the light.

They blame time for all the loss,

Say it wasn’t right,

Too fast, too slow, didn’t wait.

Did you?

Did he put up a fight!

And then they wait,

For a chosen one,

For what is worth,

Soon they aren’t the same old one...

MIND, SOCIETY AND MY LIFE…

Mind they say is a cave,

the deeper you go,

the more is the longing for its mysteries.

To read other’s is an art,

but to reason one’s own a gift.

What he wants from me is unknown,

what I wish from him is forlorn.

Every soul wishes to be more,

but just when he gathers the will,

his dreams of the perfect life,

take him off his course.

After very many years,

of living the ironical perfect life,

a thought crosses the ever lost mind,

there was so much more he could be,

was it the society,

or was it me.

SOCIETY N ME…

Often he dreams of a man,

Climbing the walls of a well,

Its depth he cannot fathom,

Too dark, too blank.

When the eyes open, he realizes,

The man is himself,

And the well his mind.

What was upto in the abyss?

What was there to find?

Is he trying to climb, grow out of his mind!

Insanity and passion, they say go hand in hand,

The moment you let go of one,

Other pulls you into its band.

What he calls solace,

Others call loneliness.

When you have nowhere to look for,

There’s happiness even in forlornness.

Be a part of society, is what they teach,

But will it weep?

When I leave!

Emotions drive a man,

Choose wisely he would say,

This road’s open both ends.

“fallen in love”, well,

Humour and irony seldom come together,

Choose your emotion well,

This one leads to sympathy or apathy.

A man is an outcome of his thoughts,

Thoughts are affected by the people around,

So do you blame yourself?

For me being me!

Some say he speaks beyond his age,

Some say he loves beyond his age,

Year by year the doors open,

With more space to speak and love,

You just move into a bigger cage.

He’s just a somebody,

Who like everyone else, will one day,

Be lost without a trace.

THE JOKER

In a pack of cards,

There are aces, kings, queens and the jacks.

But then there’s one,

Who always drew his fancy,

Belongs to nobody,Master of his will,

Gaps and voids are his to fill,

The need of the game,

The smiling face,

Summoned just for a phase,

THE JOKER.

If life was a game,

Then he is certainly the joker.

Running in and out of lives,

Not by will,

Everyone writes their bit,

Then passes on this quill.

And yet he’s happy,

Being tossed around,

Just at the thought that they need him,

Foolish he is, kiddish, immature,

They just remember him,

When they are out of others,

Or when they have a plan,

And he gladly falls in their hands,

And obeys their command.

His smile never leaves his face,

Or is it his mask,

He wouldn’t let it, even if he can,

After all, you never know the plight os a laughing man.

Not that it bothers him,

He is used to be not a part,

To be kept aside,waiting to be called,

A simple gesture, a touch,

Brightens his day,

His job for the game is done.

And whatever the flaws ,the blames,

They can always say,

“joker was a waste, all lame

He never came”.

Well, he was always there,

On him your hands never laid.

Then the players leave,

Pack shuffled, new game begins,

And sumone in need calls for him,

The silly, simple, smiling, joker...

STRANGER IS THE MAN IN MIRROR...

One can never see expressions on a shadow’s face,

Or does a shadow even have a face?

But it does belong to a living soul,

The one who stares and cares,

About the one in the mirror,

Neglecting the dark one standing behind him.

Mirror shows what you wish to see,

But a shadow is where your true self flees,

The one you hide,

Your own dark side,

Your secrets, your lies,

Your confessions he does not seek,

Neither will he guide you, he’s way too weak,

When questioned on wrong or right,

Even his eyes quiver,

Stranger is the man who stands in the mirror...

IMMORAL AND FORBIDDEN DESIRES...

Desires turn to lust,

Confessions demanding some action,

This tension pulsating through the soul,

He can feel his body heat.

You said it’s all in the mind,

But body is the route mind unleashes itself.

And more than anything,

It’s yours he wishes to touch and feel.

He smells your fragrance every moment,

Can feel you around every minute.

Every part of you is mesmerizing,

Those bright red lips are seducing to death,

The man who thought had it all,

Feels poor n novice.

It drives him mad at times,

The breath, those eyes, the touch, that smell,

He loves when you push him further,

Let those forbidden desires swell.

Fight remains the same,

As a kid he fought everybody,

Now the man fights himself for a body...