Sunday, 17 February 2019

16 Again

Isn't it amazing?
How an evening date 
Turns a lad 
Into a gallant gentleman?

Isn't the expression,
Cute?
When they ask,
'But,Why Not?' 

Isn't it awe-inspiring?
How every time 
they are asked,
'What you up to?'
They inquisitively rejoinder
'So, what's the plan?'

Isn't it chivalrous?
In ways how,with a single
'Hey!'
They want to check in on you.

Isn't it also endearing?
That they do not
Pester,
While pestering to
Do the walk again. 

With all the 'hoodie' charisma,
In the air,
The heart whispers,
'Let's turn 16 again'.







Friday, 8 February 2019

Favorites

Let's play a game,
And call it
Favorites.
The one where,
We pretend to be inquisitive.
But truly what we want is,
To choose for one another.

Let's play a game,
And call it
Teen 'Agers'.
The one where,
We are high on life
          And
We say a 'forever yes' to each other.
 
Let's play a game,
And call it
Adulting.
The one where,
We hide the candor,
Saying a 'Yes' to self
And a definite 'No' to one another.

Let's play a game,
And call it
Life.
The one where,
You and I cast,
As each other's favorites
And remain so
For many lifetimes together.

Saturday, 25 August 2018

That Night

There was a flare in my eyes
That night,
Like a war had commenced
Between my heart and my mind.

Wasn't I obliged to be happy
About the word that came?
Then why was my sense,
Acting so lame?

After speaking to you for hours
That night,
I finally fell asleep.
Like,you were meant to be a Keep!

Sometimes when I am a little low,
I recall
That night,
And I love the fact that,it brings to me,
A 'glow'.

Friday, 18 May 2018

Something

Something is holding me up.
Something!
I cannot say it is allied to you,
But I surely can say, it is not new,
Is it the illusion of permanence that you threw?

What is this state of perplexity?
Can you define?
Is it ever going to be fine?
Not able to hew or bring about new dew!

I never opined that I would dismay so much,
But now that I do,
I want to know,why is it too.
Is there a reason or is it just a block,
To let the hours pass by the clock?

No matter what,I hope the fury goes away
I hope the  storm settles soon.
Is there a way I can say, let go of the mess?
I wish!
But I,could not care less.










Monday, 1 January 2018

Rush

What does 'A Rush' mean to you? A Rush hour? An adrenaline rush? A drunken high?

It could be your dream that is keeping you awake or the rock concert you are attending tomorrow that is not letting you sleep.
Recently, while having a casual conversation with my friend Lily,I discovered, a rush could also be that, you  are rushed onto things, those things that  probably were not ready to take upon. 

Lily always had a plan, a long one, that she devised in high school. But as life goes on you keep making more plans , some remain the same, while others turn out tad different. Where was the one 'rush' that always kept her on her toes? That one, that made her feel alive, even when things were not in place.

Now, she only kept rushing onto her schedules, meetings and of course her emotions,rushed all the way up and down. Was something missing? Had she be looking for a different kind of rush in actuality?

I thought ,may be Lily rushed herself into attaining the listing, that was devised by her. Or may be that rush was not just enough anymore. 

So when we concluded the conversation, we decided, life has its own course for us. What may  seem a rush to me , may not be for you. What may give you a high today ,may not seem to excite you tomorrow. We must have to  follow the course or our hearts to find that 'own rush' within us.


So on the new year day, I would like to ask you, "What's your rush that keeps you going?". Do write in :)



Monday, 25 December 2017

When I am gone

At times I muse on, the gospel of,
When I am gone.


When I am gone,
Would you still care?
Would you love me the same?
Would you want to find out why?
Or, will I be another forgotten name?


Often I muse upon,
When I am gone.
Would I have my footprints made by then?
Would I really be ready to go?
I earnestly would not know.

Sometimes I ponder,
What if you had my back,
And may be then,I would not want to go.

They say,There are miles to go
Before you sleep,
Can these be measured in a heap?
What if the miles have been traversed,
And we do not see it yet?

May be there is a different end to get to.
But I still muse on,
Would you heed to foil?
Before I am gone,
Or
Would you not care, to create a row?
When I am gone.

   





Monday, 18 December 2017

Little Birdie on my Windowsill

So small,
Yet so courageous.
So tiny, yet so chirpy.
So little, yet spreads only joy around.

I am sure,
She feels petrified to fly around alone.
She must shiver when it rains,
She must fear the winds,
But,she musters it all so well
Like she was born to do so.
She does what she is meant to do 
That is, to fly, into the unknown world again.


Little does she know, 
That she teaches us to convene the unease,
Little does she know,
That she spreads a glee of light,
While she takes her daily flight.


That little birdie, on my windowsill
So small,
Yet so courageous.
So tiny, yet so so chirpy.