(If life gives u a second chance.. take it)
Disbelief, discontent was all he had,
Only Deliusions of hope he ever had.
His days turned nights, nights of fright.
Had made a living from anger and might.
Life of a maverick was that he lived,
His life showed stills but had no thrills.
His starring eyes, reflected his state,
He showed no remorse and carried his brutal trait.
Days passed showing no interval of change,
Joy glimpsed but was confined to frames.
Heart still pumped, so had to live on,
Voice lost rhythm like a rhyme forgone.
Words were sour and came like wrath,
Made him do things from a sinister plot.
He churned out offences with confidence,
And standing on a fence, made his deeds count,
A fence self made by him with sharp,
But Alas! it was jagged at both ends.
Then a light in the darkness came,
She rescued the emotions, till then trapped in his cage.
Suddenly the world felt beautiful and gay,
Mind recalled stories mother used to say......
The values, the morals, the lessons from the past,
Used to make him believe situations made heroes out of men,
But present showed the real world,
A world taken by people of two kinds:
Souls for peace and fighting vice,
And others who kill without any surmise.
In that instance a tear rolled down his eyes,
Bringing with it reveries with promise.
Promise of peace, love and belongingness,
For the one who smiled away all his lonliness.
He held the light in his firm hands,
But this time the hands had an everlasting care.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Rainbow of Emotions
There was a boy in a small town,
Ever reticent and calmed down.
Had few friends but never from the opposite side,
But still in hope he flied high.
Then in school he met his class,
Found new friends but maitained his class.
The lads were merry and gay,
He jelled with them from the first day.
Although reclusive but never reluctant,
This boy tried to befriend the other side present.
But all went well for the boy,
He felt content and filled with joy.
Now the times had changed,
The sides had met he claimed.
Making new friends he forgot about his class.
He ignored them and made them pass.
Although the lad behaved that way,
His class was forgiving and maintained their stay.
One fine day he was caught in a storm.
Took away his friends and made him frown.
He asked for love he asked for they,
But he got none so he made way.
The class came to console, made him sail.
They gave him courage and removed his frail.
He asked for forgiveness,
He asked them to open the chain,
So that he could bond again,
And with his class be born again.
Ever reticent and calmed down.
Had few friends but never from the opposite side,
But still in hope he flied high.
Then in school he met his class,
Found new friends but maitained his class.
The lads were merry and gay,
He jelled with them from the first day.
Although reclusive but never reluctant,
This boy tried to befriend the other side present.
But all went well for the boy,
He felt content and filled with joy.
Now the times had changed,
The sides had met he claimed.
Making new friends he forgot about his class.
He ignored them and made them pass.
Although the lad behaved that way,
His class was forgiving and maintained their stay.
One fine day he was caught in a storm.
Took away his friends and made him frown.
He asked for love he asked for they,
But he got none so he made way.
The class came to console, made him sail.
They gave him courage and removed his frail.
He asked for forgiveness,
He asked them to open the chain,
So that he could bond again,
And with his class be born again.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Can my wish come true?
(Some intitial stuff)
Its only few years since we parted,
But the undying urge is undoubted.
Forget the past my heart grunted!
But is this the thing that I really wanted?
I am in a dilema. I have a lot to prove,
Can my wish ever come true?
When I had a chance I gave it a glance,
Ignoring it, I maintained a docile stance.
Will she respond or will she not?
Makes me puzzled and engulfed in thoughts.
Will my tale be a ship without a crew?
Or can my wish ever come true?
I promise to laugh, I promise to groove,
Thorough my speech my feelings will come through.
Then I will be at peace, I will feel the warmth,
From which i I was devoid and distant from.
If thou belive that my life is you
My wish shall surely come true
Its only few years since we parted,
But the undying urge is undoubted.
Forget the past my heart grunted!
But is this the thing that I really wanted?
I am in a dilema. I have a lot to prove,
Can my wish ever come true?
When I had a chance I gave it a glance,
Ignoring it, I maintained a docile stance.
Will she respond or will she not?
Makes me puzzled and engulfed in thoughts.
Will my tale be a ship without a crew?
Or can my wish ever come true?
I promise to laugh, I promise to groove,
Thorough my speech my feelings will come through.
Then I will be at peace, I will feel the warmth,
From which i I was devoid and distant from.
If thou belive that my life is you
My wish shall surely come true
Saturday, February 14, 2009
A matter of Coincidence
(For those who like coincidences)
In my dreams I search for someone,
Who can make me feel.... like I am the only one.
Hey! It ain’t tht easy..to find someone who can please me.
That girl is cute. .ya the other one’s fine,
But hard to find a girl whom I could call all mine.
Many sweet darlings with their same old talks,
Make you feel special but there ain’t no real sparks.
Have lost count of those wonderful intents,
But love for me is just a matter of coincidence.
In life’s long journey i met a lovely face,
Saw her in an orchid where beauty always stays.
Through few words I tried to capture this lovely grace.
Showed her my thoughts and showered in the praise.
Read my rhymes and she asked me the reason?
I said “Spring is always meant to be a beautiful season”
Beauty can be anyone, anything which makes sense,
But to find real love is matter of coincidence.
On Valentines Day I was searching for a date,
Was watching all the faces looking all so great.
Felt all too lonely but in destiny I had faith,
Love never came cheap and I think I should wait.
Then came the magic moment the one I’ll never forget,
She came inside my book store when everyone had left.
She recognised the person in the garden whom she met.
Comfortable moments even in harsh winter winds.
I offered her coffee and a book which i could spend,
She felt a kind of special and requested me to bring,
A book which shows love and shows its lovely zing.
Looking in her eyes I expressed my inner thing,
Love comes to all so don’t wait for any trends,
As love for me is just a matter of coincidence.
In my dreams I search for someone,
Who can make me feel.... like I am the only one.
Hey! It ain’t tht easy..to find someone who can please me.
That girl is cute. .ya the other one’s fine,
But hard to find a girl whom I could call all mine.
Many sweet darlings with their same old talks,
Make you feel special but there ain’t no real sparks.
Have lost count of those wonderful intents,
But love for me is just a matter of coincidence.
In life’s long journey i met a lovely face,
Saw her in an orchid where beauty always stays.
Through few words I tried to capture this lovely grace.
Showed her my thoughts and showered in the praise.
Read my rhymes and she asked me the reason?
I said “Spring is always meant to be a beautiful season”
Beauty can be anyone, anything which makes sense,
But to find real love is matter of coincidence.
On Valentines Day I was searching for a date,
Was watching all the faces looking all so great.
Felt all too lonely but in destiny I had faith,
Love never came cheap and I think I should wait.
Then came the magic moment the one I’ll never forget,
She came inside my book store when everyone had left.
She recognised the person in the garden whom she met.
Comfortable moments even in harsh winter winds.
I offered her coffee and a book which i could spend,
She felt a kind of special and requested me to bring,
A book which shows love and shows its lovely zing.
Looking in her eyes I expressed my inner thing,
Love comes to all so don’t wait for any trends,
As love for me is just a matter of coincidence.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Unspoken
( if u had loved someone but didn't tell her ...this might well be the music to ur ears)
Unspoken
How should I tell you?
How should I convey?
My heart wants to, but noo way!
We both live in two worlds,
Each has its own ways.
The bridge between us- broken,
People on either sides-unspoken.
Unspkoen they may be but they are true.
Just like God almighty,
Present, but hard to prove.
Even though my emotions -unspoken,
The love and affection created for the person -outspoken.
This may prove to be the bridge which people may lay,
To spread love and remove disarray.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Dream Weaver
Dedicated to one sided lovers..they loose in love but they win in friendship.
The Dream Weaver
He wakes up from a dream,
Trying to get up and join the stream.
The stream boasts of strong currents,
The one in which many set sail.
Each with their own purpose to make it through,
Try to gain as much from the wind on offer.
But the wind alone won’t budge the great but insignificant a dream.
Though they float with ambitions second to none,
Still have to have a stitch which will make them closer to the one.
The Dream Weaver is the one just like any other,
Having the knack to help even in the harshest weather.
Seems strange why he should intervene,
But then he is the only one who has the future seen.
He perceives their fate not from a crystal maze,
But with an eye of a lover with his gauche ways.
He weaves on their cloth embroidered with care,
Makes their cloth rich even if he has to expenses bear.
Weaving for him isn’t devoid of pains,
Makes him struggle, with nothing much to gain.
Stitching their robes makes his eyes wet,
Still has to weave-for whom?, a question crept
The Dream Weaver
He wakes up from a dream,
Trying to get up and join the stream.
The stream boasts of strong currents,
The one in which many set sail.
Each with their own purpose to make it through,
Try to gain as much from the wind on offer.
But the wind alone won’t budge the great but insignificant a dream.
Though they float with ambitions second to none,
Still have to have a stitch which will make them closer to the one.
The Dream Weaver is the one just like any other,
Having the knack to help even in the harshest weather.
Seems strange why he should intervene,
But then he is the only one who has the future seen.
He perceives their fate not from a crystal maze,
But with an eye of a lover with his gauche ways.
He weaves on their cloth embroidered with care,
Makes their cloth rich even if he has to expenses bear.
Weaving for him isn’t devoid of pains,
Makes him struggle, with nothing much to gain.
Stitching their robes makes his eyes wet,
Still has to weave-for whom?, a question crept
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
"Faith of terrorists"
'Terrorism', seems to be a word with a lot of 'r' for a common man.. Refer it to a person who has gone through this ordeal. I am sure you would feel the depth of pain that word has brought to them. It would be nothing short of onomatopoeic for them.
After the recent terror strikes in Mumbai the word has gained a different dimension. Retaining its sedistic pain the word has updated it's reach by including shallowness of human thinking, which it has conquered with the venom of hardcore religious patronage. Embracing youths who have lost their sight, promising them vision of God and in the mean time transforming them into monsters who thrive with the intention to die for their lord. Terror treats each of its enemy with brutality and vice and offers no remorse to people who have already consumed it, killing them either instantly or with a postponement that lasts an eternity.
Young lads not even in their teens get engulfed in an air which once consumed makes them breathe out flames of other persons brainchild, forcing them to take on an enemy who is branded as ' the epicentre of their miseries'. Revenge is a kind of a wild justice. It has no advocates to come up with reason.It gives terorists authority to judge an innocent man guilty without even trying him for any offence done, by him or his community. The law of terror so powerful, it can distinguish a guilty from an innocent. Here innocent word dosent hold relevance. It is either a word describing a person who has escaped or was saved by a commmando as was seen in Mumbai.
So the guilty should be grateful to a terrorist, because he has been blessed by the bullets which have the puprose written by the almighty. Though the point to be noted here is that there are two variables in this context, the terrorist and his bullets. Both are short in number. A terrorist can be killed by a commando, his bullets mught miss the targets. So the guilty should be grateful to the justice of the terrorist, as his was the case where both the variables were sucessful.
To conclude I want to share a thought. Suppose the ywo variables, the terrorist and his bullets had missed the guilty, wouldn't the justice of God be questioned. How can God discriminate between people. This proves that this entire crusade which the terrorists call 'Jihad' is illfounded and shallow.
After the recent terror strikes in Mumbai the word has gained a different dimension. Retaining its sedistic pain the word has updated it's reach by including shallowness of human thinking, which it has conquered with the venom of hardcore religious patronage. Embracing youths who have lost their sight, promising them vision of God and in the mean time transforming them into monsters who thrive with the intention to die for their lord. Terror treats each of its enemy with brutality and vice and offers no remorse to people who have already consumed it, killing them either instantly or with a postponement that lasts an eternity.
Young lads not even in their teens get engulfed in an air which once consumed makes them breathe out flames of other persons brainchild, forcing them to take on an enemy who is branded as ' the epicentre of their miseries'. Revenge is a kind of a wild justice. It has no advocates to come up with reason.It gives terorists authority to judge an innocent man guilty without even trying him for any offence done, by him or his community. The law of terror so powerful, it can distinguish a guilty from an innocent. Here innocent word dosent hold relevance. It is either a word describing a person who has escaped or was saved by a commmando as was seen in Mumbai.
So the guilty should be grateful to a terrorist, because he has been blessed by the bullets which have the puprose written by the almighty. Though the point to be noted here is that there are two variables in this context, the terrorist and his bullets. Both are short in number. A terrorist can be killed by a commando, his bullets mught miss the targets. So the guilty should be grateful to the justice of the terrorist, as his was the case where both the variables were sucessful.
To conclude I want to share a thought. Suppose the ywo variables, the terrorist and his bullets had missed the guilty, wouldn't the justice of God be questioned. How can God discriminate between people. This proves that this entire crusade which the terrorists call 'Jihad' is illfounded and shallow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
