Thursday, December 15, 2011

Dreams are no one's legacy

I have seen days,
When the old church bell rings,
Signifying life and its seams,
Dreams are no one’s legacy,
Irrespective of all the castes and creed,
And the beggar taking a stand,
On the final stairs of faith,
Never believes in the almighty,
Drowned in the sorrows of his dreams,
He seeks last of the shredded pieces,
To hide the shame left beneath,
He still believes, hopes,
That life has never been fair to him,
That he has tried all the possibilities,
That ecstasy is the final nail,
Before the coffin suffices to creak.

Between heaven and hell:

Let me drown myself in misery,
Maybe the doors of hell wait for me,
Maybe life has given me everything,
Maybe fame and fortune was just a dream,
Maybe I have been an arrogant fool,
A devil of hunger resounds within,
I have seen world with open eyes,
Yet blinded by reality,
I have been the one,
Who sowed the seeds of tragedy,
As you sow so shall you reap,
And the tree of hope has grown old,
Branches of dreams shriek,
The stairs of hell,
Is a two way journey,
Where the path is just a gimmick,
I’m aware of the reality,
I have seen enough days,
I have dreamt enough dreams,
It’s time to slide the sheets,
And the church bell starts to ring,
Sting in my ears,
Blood begins to pour,
Dreams are no one’s legacy,
I will pass none to thee.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Child of a mother

White lily bestows upon the glory,
Of it being surreal and pure,
Like the surface of the sun,
Untouched by no one,
Other than the morning rays,
That penetrates and evolves,
From its skin of white and gold,
A story needs to be told,
By each and every one,
As life is a series of unfulfilled dreams,
And a few memories,
That needs to be undone,
Remembering all your loved ones,
As the morning embarks upon the glory,
Of white lily that feels divine,
When the morning dew,
Slides over the surface, with grace,
Chasing all the butterflies,
Drenching their wings awake,
And the shuddering eyes,
Of a new born baby,
Watches in awe,
As the glory of the day,
Unfolds, like a scenery,
That exudes its colours,
Like the smell of love,
Mystifying each and every one,
And the new born baby,
Glares in hope of catching the bubble,
As the sun shows the seven colours,
Shining, divine I see god in their eyes,
As they are still pure,
Untouched by no one,
But the sweet smell of their mother,
And the father watches,
As his lily blooms into a sun,
And the fragrance evaporates,
Yet stays somewhere close to his heart,
He may never see this day again,
But embarks upon the glory,
Of his lily giving him a tight hug,
And the world seems a little better,
From all the hustle and bustle,
In the arms of your loved one,
And all the chaos and calamities,
Just evaporate into the sun,
As every day needs a change,
And the father of a new born baby,
Feels so small in front of the world,
When the lily blooms awake,
And the smile of the mothers face,
Is worth a thousand suns,
Drowning into the seas of the west,
In hope of rising from the front,
The world needs a little love,
To show its true colours,
And all you need is love,
To bloom that lily awake,
Life needs a change,
And all I need is a new day,
All I need is a new life,
In a better way,
I need the touch of a mother,
To shine awake.

Friday, September 30, 2011

I shall be the death of humanity

My words wrapped up in clover,
Leave a scent of ingenuity,
Hands move towards the closet,
Opens up the wardrobe of ideas,
Senseless migraine drenches me,
In a silver spoon of dreams,
And the sun shines in full glory,
People name it as insanity,
Shining of a brain into a dream,
Leaves the marks of sanity,
Far from the reaches of people,
Whose thought process suffocates mine,
And I need a space of my own,
To ponder upon the possibilities,
How destructive my ideas could be,
And the sun shines to its full glory,
Encompassing all the certainties,
And still how uncertain life is,
Ideas need a space of their own,
Thoughts need to be diverted,
Into a downward stream,
Where the flow reaches towards my skin,
Embedded, flowing into my veins,
Like pulses waiting to perceive,
What I want me to be?
Son of a whore,
Who died due to insanity?
Or bottled up into a cramped corner,
Waiting for his time to seize,
Out of all the possibilities,
I choose insanity,
Sane never leaves your names,
Scratched on the walls,
Of this unruly society,
Idea of a genius needs to break free,
And my ideas are wrapped up in clover,
Scent begins to stream down the aisle,
An idea needs a possibility,
And I want to stand alone,
Near the peak of insanity,
Shove myself from the edge of dreams,
Dive into the river of reality,
Realize all my dreams,
Is nothing but a cause of all the pains,
So significant that hard to believe,
And idea needs a man,
And I shall be that man,
I shall not succumb to circumstances,
I shall not be deceived,
Senseless migraine drenches me,
Thirst for the blood quenches me,
I need an idea,
That shall change the face,
Of humanity,
I will make,
Atomic, nuclear,
And all the combined energies,
A pile of dirt left in belonging,
I shall be the sole idea,
I shall be the sole humanity,
I shall be the god of evil,
The god of longevity,
I shall be,
The only one to speak,
I shall be,
The almighty.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Gold and Glitter

And her body smoulders,
Like burning lava,
She extinguishes all the heat,
And my heart perspires,
In hope of burning,
Too close to thee,
Her tresses down her feet,
She glorifies the glory,
Like a soldier losing battle,
Sun shines near the metal,
Your face works like a magnifier,
Heart persists,
And I let my hands burn,
As the sun touches her feet,
She may be the last hope of humanity,
As beauty defines her,
And she defines the god of beauty,
Born from the ashes of the phoenix,
She rose to raise havoc,
In hell and the seven heavens,
All humanity breaks lose,
As she steps on the stone,
And the earth creaks beneath,
She is the symbol of prosperity,
The reason of calamity,
Nature blooms wide awake,
In hope of seeing thee,
In full glory and solitude seeps within,
And the humans line up in thousands,
To get a glimpse of reality,
And the moon and sun come in unison,
With gaping holes,
As she maybe the last hope of humanity,
She strikes a chord of every gentle,
Flutter of the innocent heart,
She is no damsel in distress,
She defines glory,
Like a lightning bolt,
She takes her time to reach,
Solitude and peace set within,
And the stars lose their shining,
To emerge as her lining,
Her eyes glitter with prosperity,
And all humanity breaks lose,
As rage invokes within everybody,
Each wants its peace of glory,
Each wants solitude and prosperity,
And her body smoulders,
Like molten lava,
As beauty defines her,
And she defines the god of beauty,
And all humanity breaks lose,
When the sweet sound,
Of gold and glitter,
Seeps within,
And all hearts turn into stone,
As the hunger for blood,
Flows through your veins,
Embedded in your skin,
Like a tattoo,
Waiting for a possibility,
To outshine the scars within,
And all humanity breaks lose,
When gold and silver,
Becomes a part of thee.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

There lies a city

There lies a city,
In my heart,
Waiting to believe,
That dreams and tragedies,
Are the outcomes of prosperity,
What goes up must come down,
Gravity finds a way,
To bring you down,
On your knees,
You are no less than a human,
Lying awake on your death bed,
Waiting for your time to breach,
Reach to you,
Hold your hands,
Divine intervention seeps within,
God has been by your side,
All your life,
You have been a good man,
All your life,
And people will remember you eventually,
Not for your dirty deeds,
But the final hour,
Before the pendulum of time,
Struck a chord of senses,
And all the murders seem to fake,
As you lie awake,
It’s a dream theatre effect,
And there lies a possibility,
That you might reach the doors,
Of heaven and they won’t pry awake,
As the weight of your deeds,
Weakens in front of the almighty,
Who you believe, has been by your side,
He has been by everyone’s side,
Then why do the interiors of hell,
Are still empty beneath,
As all the deeds and evils,
Are practiced on this holy earth,
Shall perish where your belongings is,
And there lies a city,
In my heart,
With flashes of dreams and tragedies,
Erupting from each and every stream,
Waiting for the virgin,
To die awake in the corridors of evil,
Where darkens prevails,
But hails within the almighty,
Two faces of the same coin,
Never glitter in shame,
As the ray of the sun,
Strikes in between exaggerates,
And the evil within penetrates,
There lies a city,
In my heart,
And it’s dying from within.

Saturday, July 16, 2011


She likes the walk,
Weak on the knees,
I beg your pardon ma’am,
But you define sensuality,
The way you work your charm,
I hate to be pleased,
A smile overcomes me,
I try not to stress it,
But the feeling suppresses,
All my belongings,
Longing, day and night,
I feel the need sometimes,
To be ceased,
From both the shoulders,
Circumference of my crease,
Let me clarify for you ma’am,
You are like a sexual beast,
Pouncing, pounding on me,
And the breathe fails to stay,
Where it ought to be,
You my mistress,
Need to be wrapped and forgotten,
Or else I shall forget me,
Insomnia over comes me,
And all the other calamities,
Earthquake tends to seize,
But the earth itself shatters beneath,
I need a to take a stand,
Before you destroy everything,
In your reach,
I need to tell you ma’am,
That you may some day,
Be the cause of apocalypse,
As the world feels inferior,
When compared to thee,
And my mind feels empty,
Swarmed by thoughts,
And the ideas feel like quicksand,
Waiting to engulf me,
As you is every man’s dream,
And I would need two lives,
To encompass the whole of you,
And the whole of me,
Into a single state of tranquility,
And I would have to become a preacher,
To teach myself,
What love actually is,
As the word sounds so sane,
When insanity overcomes me,
As a world without you,
Would be maddening to live in,
I would leave all my belongings,
And become a saint in search of peace,
Rather be called as a person,
Who spreads love,
Rather than being the loser,
Who roams the lonely streets,
In search of love eventually,
So let me be straight forward ma’am,
And clarify all my needs,
As the three basic necessities of my life,
Love, you and me,
Shall not be complete,
Without you becoming the last piece,
Of the puzzle,
Tranquility overcomes me.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Note of a Lover

Write a note,
On a piece of paper,
Till the lines decide,
To overflow from the edges,
Towards the table,
Tumbles down the legs,
Rattles on the floor,
And the earth starts to crumble,
Under the weight of this heavy load,
And the words don't feel empty,
Till the feelings are injected,
Like a speaker waiting to fumble,
And look for a new word in vain,
Lines shatter on the floor,
Till the whore behind the curtains,
Starts to suffocate,
Under the arm of its lover,
And the words don't feel the same,
Till the tears are rejected,
Dejected are the thoughts,
And the morning crumbles,
Into oblivion,
As the weight of the words,
Never feel the same again,
And the whore behind the curtain,
Starts to fade away,
Till a hand reaches in distress,
Picks up the pieces,
Of the shattered lines,
Hands shivering in strain,
Till blood starts to trickle,
And the candle flickers,
Burns the curtains into ashes,
Love don't need to die in vain,
Write a note,
On a vein,
Till the words decide to penetrate,
Into each and every grain,
Straining, in pain,
Flowing between the lanes,
Love needs to be injected,
And the love never feels the same,
Till the words start to shatter,
And the earth needs a grip,
To uphold its stage,
As it is the sole creator,
Weighs far more then this silly thing,
Called love,
Love starts to penetrate,
Seeping through the gaps,
Like light trying to find its way,
Playing hide and seek with the pain,
Write a note,
For your lover,
Till the love starts to irritate,
Each and every muscle of your face,
Into a smile,
Light flickers, never fades away,
Earth needs a miracle,
To bloom a flower,
Into a lover,
Write a note,
In mid air,
Till words start to evaporate,
And the tiny glimpse of love,
Like a morning dew,
Touches the skin of your lover,
And the morning hew,
Sets on her face,
Like a sun,
Fed up of its usual routine,
Needs to break away,
Write a word,
For your lover,
Till the word,
Loses its meaning,
To be called as insane,
By the world,
Love never feels the same,
Till the words are injected,
Love feels like migraine,
Waiting to break the barriers,
Stray away,
Write a note,
For your lover,
Till love never feels the same.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Love me like a Beast

Love me,
Like a beast,
Scratching, contorting me,
Under the sheets,
Let me taste your lips,
Nibble them, bite them,
Pierce through me,
I don’t need a piece of you baby,
I want the hold deal,
A part of you,
Won’t let me seize,
Hunger of a lion,
Roars through me,
Catch a hold of your breath,
Suffocate me baby,
Pain needs to flow through me,
Love you,
Like a beast,
Pin me down baby,
Roll me down on the floor,
A part of you won’t stop me,
I want the hold deal,
Let the poison of your love,
Arrest all my senses,
Stenches of your love,
Has left a shadow on me,
Need to wipe them out,
Before the whole world sees,
Let me grab you by your hair,
Straining each and every grain,
Till the pain retorts to awake,
I need to eat you up baby,
I want the hold deal,
Let me seal you lips,
Till you suffocate,
I don’t want you to be seen,
Jealously overshadows me,
I want your skin scratched,
Peeled through your body,
And pin it up a wall,
Like a memory,
I just don’t want you baby,
I want the whole damn deal.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Seeds of LOVE

Like a bird,
Flying into the sea,
The sun sets near the origin,
Where the end begins,
And all the smiles fade away,
As the vision takes away,
All the memories,
And dumps them into the sea,
Till the waves carry them,
On their backs,
And hurls them towards me,
And the fingers of my feet,
Tingle and the cold water,
Feels like a memory,
Of someone close to me,
Born from the origins,
Where the sun met the sea,
And the trees grew from the seeds,
Unwanted necessities,
Ride on the waves,
And the sea hurls you back,
As the ego reaches,
Far above the sea,
Teaches you not to preach,
But ride with the waves,
Towards the origin point,
Where you and I meet,
And the sun rises from your hands,
Sets into me,
Shine fades away,
As you encompass everything,
That glows or glitters in between,
Born are the necessities,
Of each and every human being,
From the seeds of your love,
And it ends where it all began,
Sun sets where it was meant to be,
And your smile rides on the waves,
Sea hurls the memories towards me,
And the morning sets,
Where your mind awakes,
Teaching a sense of reality,
And the world twists and tumbles,
Till your sound reaches me,
And the seeds of love,
Grow into a tree,
Where the sun sets,
In between you and me,
And the night lies awake,
In hope of a memory,
Breaching the boundaries,
Of a long term memory,
In fear of waking up,
And forgetting what love is,
But sneaking from a window,
And watching the sea,
Sun rising from its origin point,
Riding the memories on the waves,
Hurling it towards you and me,
And the seeds of love,
May someday grow into a tree.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

A song is a memory

There are good songs and then there are songs that change into a memory. When I visited London for the first time I had heard a song long before in India. The same song played on the radio in a cab of London. It connected with the surroundings somehow making it the origin of that place. Some songs are born in a place. Not the place where they were composed but the place where the composition came close to you. In my life during hard times there have been songs which have been good. But with the harshness of the ongoing things the song withered, became a part of the pain.

In your life you hear millions of songs during times of love, hatred, cries, laughter or just for the sake of listening. You meet someone, fall in love and the songs during that period become a part of you all your life. They remind you of her in a good way. Even if the love falls apart somehow that person feels good to you. A song has a moment and nothing can change it. Although change is a part of each and every human being feelings change, people fall apart. But the moment, the memory close to that song never changes.
When the final day arrives a song reminds you of all the good times you have spend with your loved ones. Life has been good, bad, worse and the journey has not been smooth. God never meant you to walk a path of flowers. A song is like a memory it stays with you forever. People forget a lot of things, a lot of memories just vanish into thin air, but the song reminds you of all the things you have felt.

“A song is like a memory, change is inevitable, life changes, people change, but a song never changes, like a good friend, song waits for you and a memory is like a song whose journey begins from a mother’s womb to your death bed and the song keeps playing, like a good friend, it stays”

Thursday, May 5, 2011

She Cries

She cries,
As the world slides,
Away from her,
Red and blur,
Indifferent are the needs,
Of each and every,
Human being,
Simple as that,
They crave for love,
As love is the only thing,
That curves away,
Hell bent to stay the same,
And she keeps crying,
Till the world stops,
To wipe her tears off,
In reach of gold they glitter,
As the shadow of morning,
Covers her face as if,
To grace such a beauty,
To touch her,
Itself, Is eternal love,
And the grass screams in agony,
As her feet never touch the dew,
Covered by morning hues,
She floats above,
And she cries,
Till the morning sky,
Parts away in awe,
God needs a peak of her,
Admiring his creation,
From above,
And she blurs away,
From the scene,
As the morning cries,
Distracts me from her,
And she sits near the corner,
Stranded and all alone,
Two feet next to me,
And my hands shiver,
To grace such a beauty,
Touching dissolves her,
Too pure to seek,
And she cries,
Till the morning sun rise,
And signify her beauty,
In an element of gold and blue,
World seems so blur,
Through her tears,
Fear penetrates her skin,
And she cries and cries,
Till the tears seize,
Not a hand to reach,
By her side,
My hands are too dirty,
To breach the outskirts,
Of such a beauty,
Heaven never permitted me,
To seek an angel,
I need to die,
To be able to touch her,
And she cries all alone,
Me sitting two feet from her,
Distance seems like a bridge,
And the dew slides,
On the morning grass,
She floats away from me,
And all I can do,
Is sit and stare,
And admire her beauty.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Feast On You

She talks to me through her eyes,
Feast on you, baby,
You are a hungry man’s born appetite,
She smiles to me, scared,
Loosen your grip on me baby,
You are much too delicate for me,
Let me hold onto you for a while,
Like a shard of precious glass,
Broken yet so wanted,
Let me pierce through you baby,
My blood needs a taste of you,
Love needs to flow through my veins,
Love trodden let me be for you, baby,
Eyes shimmering on the broken glass,
You are like music to my ears,
Note of a symphony,
I can’t get a hold of you baby,
This song needs a reason to be complete,
As every song has a story behind it,
A knot needs two ends to bind it,
Unwind me in front of your eyes,
Let me be the miracle in your life,
Coz a falling star might fall from the sky,
And I might try to catch it for you baby,
My heart needs a tender cry,
A hand to suffice all the smiles,
That I spent on you, baby,
Thinking of you all the time,
Day and night,
Light flickers before the early morning sky,
Let me hear the cries of your love,
In my ears, and that may be the note,
To the symphony of love,
As you may be the story behind the song,
Of my life and the world may call it a,
Only when you left me for someone else,
As every heart craves for a tragedy,
To fulfill their incomplete love,
Through someone else’s broken cries,
Let me feast on you, baby,
One last time,
Hunger never suffices of a man,
Heart needs a reason to write a song,
For you, baby,
You are a hungry man’s born appetite.

Sunday, February 20, 2011


Long ago there was a cub named grace,
Years before his reigning days,
He skimmed over the lakes like a dragonfly,
Paws felt like feather over the surface,
He roared toward the deep blue sky,
But the roar of the silent night,
Didn’t even move a insect in sight,
Long before me and you were there,
There was ferocious cub named grace,
He couldn’t roar even the tiniest of cries,
In misery he was abolished from his own tribe,
In his journey he met an old wisely,
Who said to the cub,” search for peace,
In longing pain will resurrect eventually”
And so he traveled to the furthest of forests,
In search of his voice, as a lion needs a roar,
To distinguish himself from the rest of the tribe,
Years later he finally came to the peak,
Where the sun kissed the earth’s surface,
And distinguished itself from the rest of the sky,
Light shines upon those who have the will to survive,
Sun rises within breaching the pain that thrives,
Years later there was a lion named grace,
Days before he finally died,
He was the pride of his own tribe,
And the roaring pierced through the sky,
And the clouds once obstructing the path,
Now broke apart, eventually light shines,
Upon the face of those who have the heart of a lion,
And the will to survive during darkest of times,
When the inner voice succumbs within,
Heart skims over the shiny surface of life,
In search of you, grace thrives within,
Grace gives birth to a roar,
Even the tiniest of the cries,
Long ago there was a cub named grace,
Who taught me how to live a life.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Dear Old Shoes

My dear old shoes,
Lost their soul today,
When the feet within them,
Started to suffocate,
Confined were the dreams,
Within the enclosed space,
Needed an outlet to break away,
And so he ran for miles and miles,
Till the legs gave away,
Clasping the dreams within,
In fear of dream going astray again,
And the feet within screamed in pain,
A space once sufficient for an eternity,
Looks at me like a gaping hole,
Telling me to climb over the fences,
Within and run away,
As the opportunity sleeps besides you,
You just need to stay awake,
And so the feet roared in pain,
As the sound of stinging feet,
Blared, screamed in mid air,
My dear old shoes,
Finally comes the day,
When the person within,
No longer wants to fit,
Suffocating, gasping for some air,
My green and white shoes,
Lost their sole today,
When the person within them,
Didn’t want to suffocate.

Friday, January 14, 2011


I’m no immortal being dear,
Time never fails to pass me by,
Heart ponders within its region,
What’s the significance of it pounding?
If there’s no one to suffice,
And the reach of the palms,
Slowly melts between the gap,
Where your hand and mine,
Never crosses the outskirts,
Of this unknown path,
What’s the significance of it craving?
If the doors of heaven never pry,
And the soul staggers under the weight,
Of your piercing deep blue eyes,
There’s nothing else in this world to justify,
But god resides in your eyes,
Heart craves in search of something divine,
What’s the significance of it praying?
If there’s no one to suffice,
And the heart signifies the longing,
Pain is just a melodramatic exit,
To this shameless act called love,
Embarrassment never fails to pass me by,
And the curtains slowly creep from behind,
Enveloping me into the darkness,
And the hunger squirms within the region,
What’s the significance of loving?
If there’s no one to suffice.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Naked Truth

When the day arrives,
Will you be standing naked?
Staring at the window panes,
Like the sun needs a space,
To define all its life,
In a single strain of your hair,
Matching the colors of the hangings,
On the walls scratched, contorted,
Nails pierced through the pains,
Glowing darkness remains the same,
Suddenly life begs for a need,
Each and every grain needs a change,
And the window pane keeps calling you,
Like a string tied to your toes,
Dragging you towards the end,
Like a wish, wanted to be fulfilled,
Every person needs a day,
When the window isn’t open,
But transfigured into a way,
A journey that needs an end,
Peace, solitude and the things,
Foolish for a man to please,
Like happiness injected mercilessly,
Each and every muscle strains,
To bring a smile to your face,
That may change the fate,
Write a note on the walls of your destiny,
That life was never a waste,
Living like a series of ropes tied together,
Straining to make an individual name,
Like every beginning needs an end,
The rope of life is strained, need to break,
Suffocation needs a marking,
To remind what the end is,
And so the beginning lies in shame,
As the grip of the rope tightens,
Every beginning needs an end,
Every end needs a day,
Darkness envelops you one last time,
In free falling there’s no pain,
Final thud on the wall of destiny,
Name scratched with blood and pain.