Shall I be the Night Owl and admire the glowing clusters of million Stars in the night sky,

Or shall I be the Early Bird and bathe in the glorious rays of the Morning Sun?

Whatever I shall be,

I shall choose to be me.

For neither the Sun nor the Stars,

Have ever stopped to shine for me, 

I shall choose to be an admirer of both,

As the Night Owl and the Early Bird,

I can always escape the empty clouds.


Luxury of Sitting by the Window

It was a beautiful Monday morning, the Sun was shining proudly. The flowers bloomed with utter enthusiasm and I…I was in a hurry.
Being consistent with my unpunctuality.
A bus, about to leave with one last empty seat.
“That must have been kept for me”, I thought.
I sat beside the passenger who was by the window, and three other passengers followed.
When it’s hot enough to boil an egg, any form of shade and wind is a gift.
I could feel the wind flowing in, as our bus flew by.
I closed my eyes, with my favorite music playing, I felt calm after a long time. That moment was a blessing, with my eyes still closed, my hair was playing with my smile, teasing my face, I smiled. I tried putting the teaser behind my ear.
“Naughty little thing”.
I realized my hair was more soft and silkier than usual, it must have been the wind. Oh, the power of wind, makes strangers fall in love, makes children excited by the way wind waltzes with their kites.
My train of thoughts was stopped by a soft tap on my shoulder.
I opened my eyes to see a woman by the window who gave me “What-the-hell?” look…I gave her a smile and said “It’s the wind.”, she hissed, moved passed me, got off and got lost in the crowd.
Not even an apology for being so rude.
I took her seat by the window, a luxury of the moment.
“Ah, the wind, sweet, sweet and playful wind,” I said to myself.
I allowed the wind to play with my hair again, with more freedom, to make me calmer.
I waited eagerly, like a child waiting eagerly to eat those two marshmallows, for two is better than one.
I waited.
And I waited some more until my stop arrived.
I wondered why I couldn’t feel that wonderful calmness after I moved closer to the window.
Three words activated my brain back to reality, “WHAT-THE-HELL?” 
I could feel my thoughts rushing in to complete the question- “ARE YOU DOING WITH MY HAIR?”
Then I realized, my hair wasn’t as soft, or silkier, it never had been.
The wind was never really teasing my hair.
Darn it!


She then heard his voice,
With her heart beating faster every moment that passed,
Unable to say anything,
Unable to breathe,
She felt her smile growing,
The cold in her warming,
Four months, 5 days and 14 hours,
With so many wishes that flew by,

With so many dreams that saw the night,
Of him and her,
Of being together,
Only to wake up to the sad reality,
To his absence,
To a bitter reality that made no sense,
But today, his voice was enough,
His Hello was enough,
Just to quench her thirst,
Was she dreaming?

But it was more sweeter and warmer than the dreams of him,
It was real,
He was there,
She felt alive,
After months that felt like ages,
That felt like she was locked up forever in her own cages,
She finally felt calm.

6 April 2016


"The Wind is not enough, bring in the Storm!",
Demanded the great old Tree to her Gnome;
A baby Tree was killed,
The sad broken heart could never be healed.

The calm sky turned grave dark,
A beholder would howl and bark;
The happy clouds started to weep,
The heart that was broken was just too deep.

The wind howled with such agony,
Scaring away that walked the great land and the sea;
The flowers shook with sudden fear,
As the Great Old Tree shed her tear.

"Let the storm fill the void that linger.",
Said the Great Old Tree, that lost the baby tree on the roots of her finger;
The Moon was wounded with silence,
Of the baby tree that was a home to many winged friends.
-28 Feb, 2016


Dis-crowned Humanity

So much tear,
So many who fear;
So much pain,
Timeless death;
Innocent blood,
Raising the flood.
So many cries,
So many lies;
Bloody war,
Bombs flying afar;
Children running,
Parents burning,
Homes destroyed,
No pain they could avoid,
Schools shut down,
Humanity dis-crowned,
Hunger everywhere,
No one to care,
Little palms,
Asking for alms,
Political lies,
This is where Humanity dies.
God exist?
I do not know, for this,
Why is life full of sorrow,
For the ones who have no tomorrow?
I wish I could save them all,
But, alas! How can I when I am afraid to fall?


A Warrior’s Tale

How could they know you were there?
How would they know you would be here;
The past,
Dark, it may have been,
Your present, illuminated with every artistic beam;
Because of that very darkness that closed you in,
Like an enigmatic butterfly,
Your heart grew out of its caterpillar like shells within,
So many days you cried,
Rivers and oceans alike,
No one heard you, but you,
You needed your hand to hold you up,
And love like that between the fresh grass and the morning dew,

That moment when you grabbed the hands of your shooting star,
Has taken you billion miles and far,
Only few knows where you come from,
Few knows who you may be,
But only you know, you were there-you cease to exist,
And the real you begin to soar out like the butterfly of a soul you are.
How could they know you were there?
How would they know you would be here;
You tell a tale of a man,
Who grew out of his dark and yet hopeful shell,
Into a white butterfly, telling a peaceful tale.
 #2 Oct 2016