Tag Archives: people

One fine night. 

Something scratching in the back,

Something got her laughing while sitting up straight on her bed,

May be a familiar story in the old book rack. 
The blanket was lying as she left it in the morning, 

Twirled like a mermaid taking rest over a rock, 

Waiting for the next wave dining. 
The spoon just fell over the cup,

Like a huge star, shooting in the infinities of the sky, 

While ceramic did talk and made hupp.
She just leaned back on the backside of her bed, 

And just like that she held the music in the room, 

And she saw the lower corner of the curtain waving to her but she wondered if it was all in her head.

The race

​This to the day when you just want to be happy, and get relieved of the race. 

Yes, it’s the same race you’re running everyday. 
You think you’re running towards a goal. Are you sure that you’re not running from yourself? 

When the herd is proving what they are not, and you still figuring out what you are,

Day by day, the web catches it’s prey, one at a time, and you know you’re next. 

Often you feel like giving up to the web, pray let it happen soon, as early as you could get caught, you could atleast stop running.
Never did any creature show such desperation. Or may be they did. 

Like when the mouse is lured by the cheese inside the cage. 

Or the profound happiness the goat gets before getting plated. 

But you don’t know this.
You don’t even understand this.

You just want to be as happy as you were 7 and won your first match and made your mom proud. 

But you didn’t know that this want for winning will come along so badly that it will put a curtain on your dreams. 
You don’t want to run everyday.
You just want to be home.

You just want to be happy.

But as the rule of survival says, you need to be fit for it, for it’s a war. Not between people, but with you,  yes yourself. 

You need to get up, and BURN yourself if you want to shine.

Stairs to the moon

When you help them build stairs to the moon,
And you think you all are going together and reach up soon.
But you forget one important thing,
The wooden staircase could take only one person at a time.

So they climb up, leaving you behind.

You thought we’ll all stand together, once we reach.
But a lesson did they teach?

But momma said always help people, be kind and generous,
Don’t say I, but worry about the  ‘Us’.
But momma didn’t know that people no longer care,
They get what what they want, and do not do fair.
They forget your help or the days they needed you,
The one who made the stairs and was left behind by you.

I laugh in despair, that momma when they had reached up,
At least they didn’t break the stairs,
I should have believed they never cared.

But momma you never told me that I had to be little selfish,
All I did was share and share until things got finished.

I should have kept some things for myself in this world,
Days after days things got more swirled.
I got infuriated by all this muddle,
I was left alone, with no one to cuddle.

I cried, I shouted, I screamed.
For God, what bad have I done,
that I could not get to my dream.

I vowed to not help people anymore,
Not be kind or generous, or helping a sore.
I saw the world through a broken glass,
I was drawing myself away from the mean class.

But deep in my heart, I believed,
That the one who’s the strongest, and kindest,
Then success, happiness all you achieve!
I knew how to build those stairs, so I did it again,
I learnt from experience, I grew from that pain.

I reached even higher than they can imagine ever,
And they were back in news telling me clever.
Oh fools, I thought, what have you done,
You never knew there’s a difference between a planet and the sun!

But one thing all we must learn from now,
Look for real people, because it’s a fake town.
Share only with those who’re worthy of that gift,
The people, who are there and never split.

And you need to give yourself, is your help first,
So that you climb up the moon, with the stairs you trust.

Be kind, sincere and fearless,
Because you’re special, and you’re no less!

 

Hey guys, I’ve written this poem on my personal experience, it’s straight from the heart, and it’s my present story, if you liked it,share and help spread the word, thanks!

May be it doesn’t matter anymore.

It’s all, about you.
So many sad eyes on happy faces.

Why are you allowing to wither in your self?
Do you still have those bits and pieces of who you were?
I believe, they are yours.

Because you let fairy tales; you grew up reading in books, to be true.
The whole point of being with someone is so you can talk your heart out with them, without feeling being judged, who smiles at your best and stays with you at your worst.

But may be you’re too late.
You no more know how to talk.

May be it doesn’t matter anymore.
I’ve seen it through you.
You held it long enough to let go.
Stop holding those bits and pieces
of where you no longer belong.

Close your eyes to old ends
and open your heart,
to new beginnings.

You are brave, you know;
I’ve seen you dance
through the flames that ramble against you
when you set yourself
on fire.

You’re kind, you know;
I’ve seen you soothe those
who never bothered
to know
the ache inside you.

You’re more, you know;
more than this,
more than you ever were,
more than anyone could ever be.

You’re made up of thunder, fireworks and sunlight.
So, rise like the sun, and burn.

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Do you miss your childhood?

Do you miss your childhood?
I miss the way we took pleasure in small things.
Balloons, candies and cookies.
Even as great things crumbled.

We did hide-n-seek,
And peeped through the bushes,
And danced gaily at celebrations.
Or laughed away when the other fell.
Chased away mum for that glass of milk,
And fancy dad’s return for chocolates.

To chitter, chatter.
And be the teacher’s pet.
Party on getting ten on ten.
Or those birthday treats.
Running fast to get the front seat,
Or take hours to finish the last spoon of mum’s best dish.

Neither we could control the world around,
Nor felt the need for it.
There was not a search for happiness.
Or hiding away from crying.

We took the world as it is and smiled.

Could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt,Yet took joy in the things that made us happy.

If you still miss your childhood,
Remember,
It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.

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A traveler’s muse

In city, my heart was spread so thin that I wasn’t feeling much of anything.
But there on the cliffs, I realized I was near the end.
My heart swelled and then hurt.

A traveler.
Another city.
A fresh chapter begins.
A new community ebbs and flows around.

It’s people.
Their dreams. And hopes.
The strains of Mozart’s music swim in the air,
Gliding through countryside’s many cafes,
Glistening shores where children play,
Cobbled streets, merging with the silhouette of the 0ld fort.

Time rolls.

Then the new friend became a speck on horizon,
The traveler felt a familiar sadness.

Not a story of enemies.
Not a story of friends.
Just a story of strangers, with some memories.

You know a time when you seek happiness, truth?

Not because you’re lost.
But you’re closer to where you’re meant to be.
That time, you’ll be, your own sun.
You’ll know that you’re made up of sunlight, thunder and fireworks.

No matter how far you travel, you can never run away from home.

You’ve got — roots of innovation and wings of imagination!
Let them grow.


“This is a not-so-obligatory present, wrapped up in 500 words.”
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Let’s talk #1

I attended a conference today on public speaking by Mr. P, I was so motivated by it that I came to a conclusion. Have a read.

What do you want to become? What is your dream? How do you see yourself 5 years down the line?
Big questions. Aren’t these? Yes absolutely!

So let’s talk. Let’s talk about dreams, aspirations, hopes.
These are complicated and yet fascinating questions. But have you really thought about it ever?
What if one doesn’t know what’s his or her dream? Is his life finished?

No. If one doesn’t where to go, you’ll eventually reach the place you want to be. Because things will move in right order themselves. But how? There’s a simple answer. Because you know what not to do. Thus you won’t waste time unnecessarily. All you need is to dream big, continuously thrive for change and creativity in anything and everything you do. Keeping up the passion towards work and life and maintaining balance between the two is important.

Just trust the process.
Once you board the right bus at the right time and sit in  the right seats you’ll end up at the right destination. It’s not when you’ll choose but not choose the wrong ones and be left with the right one.

So don’t choose but reject the wrong ones. Someone is always there to help you, and that’s you yourself. Got it? In this process, one day you’ll end up where you are meant to be.

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The Right One

KOI NO YOKAN
(n.) The sense upon first meeting a person that two of you are going to fall in love

Does that happen?
Yes, it does, she said.

Sometimes when you meet someone,
like a wind passing by, and the scent it left.
Like someone played an old song,
reminding you of the old times,
Or someone brewed coffee,
Or turned pages from an old book.
Like a trace of someone’s perfume,
which brings pain in the knees.
But you won’t tell.

LA DOULEUR EXQUISE
 (n.) the heart wrenching pain of wanting affection of someone unattainable

Is that pain real?, he said.
Real. she replied.

i t h i n k i m a d e y o u u p a n d n o w y o u a r e g o n e

Yes.You might have a homesickness for a home, to which you cannot return back,
Or you have never been to. People, places and memories! Those you miss, don’t exist anymore.
For the irony of pain is that, you let the same person you love, hurt you over and over again.
And the beauty of the situation is that, you want to be comforted by the same person who hurt you.

Having perfected our disguise,
we search for a person we can’t fool.

Someone who loves you for what you are,
not what you look.

May the fairy tales be true.
Let their be magic!

When you want to come out,
of the shell, like a seed.

When you are back as a child,
with the one who completes,

as the missing piece,
from the puzzle of your life.

Or whispers the missing notes,
to your incomplete song.

Because, may be,
you have to love the wrong person,
once or twice,
to be thankful for the right one.

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Did you ever smell a memory? :O

Scribbles on the last pages

And when the scribbles on the last pages of your book,
meant a lot more than your story.
And when it’s not about the ending — happy, or sad.
It’s about the story.

So set yourself on fire.
For one day, you will stumble upon someone,
who will ignite a spark within you that will never ever die.

And when such people happen, you’ll know they’re magic!
And when you’ll never have enough, you’ll ever have an illusion.
For whom you’ll never stop looking among st the crowd.
For they are the best chapters of your life.

commuovere
(v.) to stir, to touch, to move to tears

And when deep inside they’d care the most,
They would pretend they don’t care.
And when you’ll come across the sad part of the story,

you will ever come to find–– that they are not always the ones
whom we spend our lives with.

It would be too late.

After all at the end, we all are just stories.
Each and every soul you meet has to play a part in the story.
While one may take a chapter, others a line or two.

The special ones occupy the exclamations, apostrophes, 
in the happiest sentences of your life.

And then the fire they ignite, may not be the first or the last.
But the only one that lasts forever.
And the only one worth fighting for.

| So I wonder not how well it starts, but how bad it’s gonna end. |
That’s the BOOK OF YOUR LIFE. 

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The Shortest Story

The Shortest Story

For the days in doubts and fear.
For the moments of no you and me.
For the nights of lost handkerchiefs.
For the season to get drenched or blown away.
For the time when you can’t remember,
For how hard you may try.

Wait.
Take a minute and believe.

For life is a blessing.
Smile your worries away.
If you believe, you’ll find there’s a purpose,
And that purpose is you!

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