Tuesday, 20 August 2013


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.

Sunday, 24 February 2013


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.