You know how to craft mere dust into a mountainous courage,
to fight, love, and respect everything in life,
you’re alive.


Oh! When the heart flutters with the beats of love, it’s the most serene feeling in this universe. But what anyone can do when the love of your life is the reason for your existence, and is taken from you or betrays you. you couldn’t just put that love behind and move on,can you?

The love never dies and so does your feelings. If by any chance you’ve got to know that your love was not the one who betrayed you, but the destiny did, you want your lifeline to hold you when you count your last breaths.

Oh! This feeling!!!!! It takes my senses to another level….

Presenting you this piece of mine….to say the above in some woven words…


Oh! The light of faith has gone
And the serene blindness in it,
Warmth of the hearts dulled
Have icy questions in it…
The silken thread of trust
Is somehow, broken,
And the feathery feelings
Are now, just a token…
The pious love never gets faded
Wails with the tears of betrayal,
And stands still on that trail
where the hearts met…
Ablazes everytime,
when the lost time flashes in the mind.
But flies in heaven,
When relives the moments;
Yes! Those one of a kind….
On the deathbed,
The last wish is to hold hands,
The warmth would return,
The cracks of heart would heal…
Peaceful smile on the lips
with the touch of beloved,
And the eyes would close,then
As everything’s now,forgiven….


We know the cascade of thoughts and their impacts on our life. Life is terrain, and we all walk through. Every time we breathe, after we’re born, the breathes dissolved in the air tells us to understand that we became one more breathe old. Standing for the first time in our lives, when we did that?? We can’t remember, neither we realize the raindrops which touched us for the first time. How beautiful experience that would be?? A natural shower?? Or mere drops of happiness and calmness?? We know for sure that experience would have been the most exciting. The sonorous smell of drops from the nature might have moved for the first time.

If we’ll observe a small child enjoying the rain we might find out. The small eyes, opening and closing to the weight of drops, the crazy idea of jumping to the small pool of water. The mud, which became so obsolete now, and was so fun in jumping onto them then. A lot of changes in life does brings maturity and the good taste of enjoyment becomes obsolete. However, there are times when we stand to miss those days and the petrichor seems to bring smile on our face. The innocence of smile isn’t common in people, is it??

If we look closely at ourselves, we became what we never supposed to. We stood right, if I may say, but there is a deep seriousness in ourselves, which we all have developed so that people will take us seriously. Seriously. There is a heap of pressure we all possess, and life sucks most of the time but if there is something you can do about it, certainly you can’t most of the time, you just anticipate. So, put a costless smile on your face. Not just to see people but to see ourselves. Observe the person, or a lost child within this structure of flesh and bones.

There isn’t anything wrong in “being me.” The child, what I mean is the same child you see in your oldest picture. We must remember him, because he is you. You can make yourself not to get away with careless approaches of world but your approach of finding newness in every opportunity is inevitable. So, observe the rain like you did for the first time in your life.


The divine ride of my bicycle through hazy humanity,
innocent replica of tomorrow how dim witted!!
slow-thicken and twisted, lullaby of lies we heard,
melody of myths, each passing day subsides.
the goodness, the beauty and the morale of life.
ashes, ashes, all fell down.

Then ticked on the Life’s clock, adult reality,
Full moon brings the darkest night agitated,
for people are bats who sleeps upside down,
they chant of modesty and truth fabricated,
Deadly roses, delicate and sublime,
The moment you see it, the moment you die.
Ashes, Ashes, all fell down.

Truth is the rotten dung in the dumpster,
Honesty is cowardice, love is miserable-lore,
For I know the truth of the selfish bones, I lie.
Assumptions, Beliefs and a relentless dream,
of an ethical, modest and fascinating us,
for you and I, we’re not the priest,
Ashes, Ashes, all fell down.


It’s enfolding, the forgotten me,
the dead me and the rising me,
a prose of love,
and some poetries of life.

It stretches me out,
from the life of hazards,
to the life of wonders.
Like a lyrics,
Written on breaths,
It sings inside,
to make a charm,
Blowing up the faces.

It feels the joy,
Of creating thoughts,
the ink of zeast,
Filled to the life,
Writing on the lives,
Of an small ant,
to huge vampires.

It surrenders to me,
the weapons of creativity,
To pave a way,
for a blind kid, like me
Who can’t see the life,
the life of wonders,
Filled with joy.

To the heaven, which is here,
And nothing is beyond,
it blow up the mind,
to fill the with lights,
The light of creativity,
for the lives with art.


Before the early birds could sing a love song,
Collecting the monumental lure of her love,
He left her marooned in demise for long.

She, who weighs priceless in heavens,
Awaits in demise, disbelief, and fear.
Pierced into her heart, the brand of love,
Makes the night sob in delusional despair.

Babbling in the air, sorrow and tear.
The herd of bleeding memories,
raising above the clouds,
Wailing, in grief of the dear.

The bruised heart foresees a day,
a day of love which won’t tease,
and the heart will live,
not today but tomorrow
or maybe some other day.

Everyone has a story, some untold, some are weaving.

The pond,
the lake,
and the little lotus,
Everyone has a story,
some untold, some are weaving.

these stories are real,
like us,
but, they never share us,
like we never share ours.

They play,
they love, and they get hurt,
they feel broken and fight for their survival.