Monday, September 21, 2015

The Time of Your Life

One day we will find ourselves between the cross hair of sacred and sin,
Looking back on our lives full of joy, or just an empty din.
We would have walked miles, hand in hand, with our friends,
Wondering if it would have been different, if we would have trusted them.

Some will smile and some will weep,
Some will forever with regret sleep,
Asking themselves if they were really alive,
Or just died everyday hoping to live.

There will come a time, when the judgment will be passed,
With morality and culture, duly sentenced to be thrashed,
For there is no greater sin, than to just do what you feel,
If offends the Gods, because you don't want to kneel.

Days will pass when we question our love, our family, and innermost belief,
We drown in the ocean of betrayal, break the illusion as we hit the reef.
Then we will emerge, cleansed of expectations,
To build a new world, without the sorrow of generations.
We will watch the bird fly, and the apple fall again,
Start a new theory, build a new wishing well.

Such have been the days and such will be the days to come,
Where you give up all you were, pick up who you are, and smile at who you are to become!

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Just to Play

I do not remember the day I was born,
Like most of you, I just remember being warm,
Next to my mother and her fur,
A new life and joy to her.

Then I think you hand a fantasy,
To have me with you, because it was fancy.
They took me away when I was just two months old,
Crying and scared, away from her fur,
I was sold to you, apparently, you were better than her.

I do not deny you pamper me well,
But only when you want to,
When the the clock of life is not ringing its bell,
When it is convenient in your knell.

I am supposed to comfort you when you get lonely,
Just the way I feel without my parents’ company,
And I just expect the same from you,
Foolish me! You only play with me when you want to.

All other times, I should just sit and admire,
Your undying thirst for a worldly desire.
It makes you lonelier, and the more you need me,
For I am your best friend, whether or not I want to be!

You chain and discipline me, I should behave the way you want,
A soldier in your army, obeying your command and what not.
Have you ever wondered if you were taken away;
From your mother – just to play!
Then never given back, because I enjoy being with you,
A toy, a status, a pseudo idea in protecting and loving you.

Have you ever thought when you come home;
I have been lonely,
Dying to be warm with my mom and dad,
But you are tired and I should understand,
Be happy with the left over food you had.

Do not pretend you love me,
It is an insult to love,
To take away a two-month old baby,
Someone’s new born,
Then treat them the way you wish; at your sole pleasure,
And leave them on the street, if you wanted something better.

I hope you don’t ever have to live without your parents,
But I am a dog and who cares about my feelings,
You are human and get to play with someone’s life,

I am a dog, and that ends the matter!

Sunday, May 10, 2015

I Wonder...

When our lives are shaped, not by who we are, but should be.
When corporations make our dreams limitless,

And the means to achieve them limited.
When the meaning of conversation has just become a text,
I wonder if we have progressed.

When soldiers die in the name of patriotism; 
Victims of personal ambition, disguised as the political acts of a nation.
A little like Caesar for the people of Rome,
I wonder if have we given democracy or secured dictatorship at home.

When citizens are spied on in the interest of national security,
And killed in the name of religion.
Where history is modified to justify genocide,
And children are bombed to wipe out terror,
I wonder why God brought us here.

When relationships are calculated,
And business is about relationships.
I wonder what is success,
A true sense of achievement.
Where intelligence alone is not enough and we seek more,
A trip to Mars and space cars,
When we can't even put the real criminals behind bars,
We want life on a new planet; a new hell beyond the stars.

When a tragedy is just a statistic,
Our false sense of pride,
In a fake donation list.
When love is an emoticon,
Thrown away at a different song.
When our sadness is filtered by apps,
And happiness fails to relapse.
When we are so busy competing for a destination,
We forget the journey,
And just wait for the station.

Where the freedom to be yourself is so despised,
That we wear slave uniforms,
And celebrate adult franchise.
Where the oceans are wet with cries from within,
Stop spilling in the water, it's choking them thin.

When the media is just a pawn,
Bought and sold before each dawn.
I wonder what you hear is all the news,
Or just propaganda in their views.

Where trees are cut to make our homes,
Much like the women raped to satisfy hormones,
I wonder if this is all we got,
Humanity, thy name we forgot!

Monday, April 20, 2015


It has been some time now,
Since it first flew,
White wings, spread out against the blue sky,
Freedom beyond, the chains broken.

It is difficult to understand,
Why one would take to a cage?
When it could fly free.
Roam the world none have ever seen,
Yet it chose four corners,
A sense of comfort?
Or the idea of a home?
But only humans like corners,
The birds care about the warmth,
Not the location or shape.

It chose chains every time the door was open,
Teaching me, that freedom too was not black and white,
That freedom too, was just another perspective.
Lying low, mute to its true calling,
It chose what others value little.
But then again, the others were human,
Caged in the idea of their freedom,
Slave to their religion, technology and wants.

They often wondered why it never flew,
Became what it was supposed to,
Did someone ruin its younger years?
Or did it realize what the world holds beyond?
It guarded within the spirit of free air,
The same free spirit the humans yearn for,
A spirit unconstrained by money and possessions,
A spirit wild and carefree.
Is it possible it knew why the air hurt?
And that the promise was just an illusion
Or did it know that flying to nowhere is not always a destination.

Yet now, it decided to fly.
What changed? The wisdom redefined,
Or the innocence finally lost?
It tried to become what humans thought it was,
A bird born to scale the sky,
But it did not think it couldn’t,
The day it needed to.
Could it really be, that it became human?
Climbing, when it could fly,
Walking, when it could glide,
Full of desires, yet in the same place.

The freedom hasn’t changed,
The cage still the same,
It wants to scale the sky once more,
Chase the human dreams,
But like they get to know,
The bird too has realized,
It has been years now, since it first flew,

May be for the last time.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Being One

For all we humans are but the same,
We need food, shelter and light.
To live this holy life we got,
Sleep peacefully at night.
But then I think of why we try,
To be different in our deeds.
If all of us are just the same,
And need the things we need,
Then aren't we one as we breathe?

How everyday we try to succeed,
At succeeding to differentiate,
For a king is different from the common folk,
He eats in plates of gold and sleeps on fine oak.
The boss is different from his workers too,
He dresses in Armani and drives a BMW.
The lady across has jewellery worth a house,
The little girl has a pink flower drawn on her blouse.

The man with money will buy things that separate,
Him from his friends, the same people with whom he ate.
He will look down upon what they couldn’t be,
His expensive watch and shoes to see.
But all these people believe in being one,
Attending a charity night, giving out to the nuns.
But as they approach the stand to give,
Dressed in brands the little ones can't spell,
Do they not tell the world, they want to be distinguished,
With their brands, money, and status symbols.

All these people are liberal at heart,
No race, no color, no discrimination to start.
But I ask myself as I sit amidst it all,
In a world where success means to stand-out,
With symbols and power that shout itself proud,
Do we really believe when we look at the sun,

Through Ray-Ban shades, that we are all but one?

Sunday, May 11, 2014

The Golden Word

Is it magical?
One word that all of us know,
That brings us alive,
That how many times we’ve repeated;
We don’t know.

Whenever we fall down,
Whenever we pray,
When we cry out loud,
Or sing in joy,
When fears turn towards us,
And strength we need,
Why do we think of none but one?
No other word but you.

The way you wrap us in your arms,
Hold us tight,
Protect us from dangers our infancy does not know,
The way you smile seeing us smile,
And wipe every little tear we cry,
The way you teach us to walk,
And if we fall,
None but you we call.

Why it seems to be the ultimate healer,
Our reason to smile, our pillar of support,
Our hope in dark days,
Why is it we think of none but you?
Every time we lose or cry,
Every time we go wrong or need another try.

You are all that we ever need,
The one we look up to,
You are a magician that fills all our dreams,
And somehow you don’t know,
All that you do for us,
We convey it all the time,
Every time we think of you,
Every time we say the golden word,
Every time we say "Mom".

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Reason to Live

It was a moment now, and a moment back then,
When I  wondered how we started, and how we would end.
Like the seed to a shrub, and then to a tree,
Flocked with leaves and fruit.
Then the seasons change and it will all disappear,
As quickly as lighting would.

For many condemn the cold,
The barren trees and frozen road.
For who finds joy in dull and grey,
The sadness of a gloomy day.

I look at a tree outside,
The way its stood for years without reason,
And wonder what it thinks of love, betrayal and treason.
It does not matter where it has been or will go,
But it knows the seasons will change,
And it will get another chance to show,
Its green leaves, its juicy fruit,
Its warmth to a nest of leaves.

For people speak now of why they should,
Look for reasons, wishing they could,
Finding a new life and live it all,
For this one is just too small.

I look at the tree and what it thinks,
Of life and its meaning,
Of freedom and chains,
Of finding happiness or the right kind of gains.
Does it matter to it that it does not move,
Or can't express the pain of a bruise.
His friends are those, that give him company,
The feather filled friends chirping in harmony,
But only on sunny days, when all is well,
Never in the winter - the lonely days of hell.

Must it not be sad, with a life so dull and all the same,
No identity, no name,
No changing places, nothing to achieve,
No worries about money, no expensive needs.
I think how sad it is for the tree,
A life so boring and without reason,
Just adapting to every season.

Just then a wind shakes it up,
Nothing to lose in the winter, its already stripped enough,
May be you cannot take away, what is firm within,
The rest does not matter, it is an empty din.
From the tree I learnt what matters most,
The hope for a future, the patience to change,
For no one to life can dictate,
The way to make them happy, or adjust its pace.

The tree stands tall, fighting it through,
The cold winds, the frost and dew.
It has no purpose, no greater calling,
Yet many run around it every day,
Searching endlessly for a better way,
For a newer promise of something to give,
While the tree does not need a reason to live.