When he turned eight, he tried the kiss of the fate

Out of love he wrote, her name on a paper boat

Let it flow to his queen, let his heart be seen

For princess he would sing, pretending to be a king

Years of drizzling came, but it never rained the same

Perhaps his heart was made to shrink

Perhaps his boat was designed to sink.

Somewhere else in the rain, she was loving her pain

For hours she would stand, with his boat in her hand

She knew from where it came, she knew who loved her name

Till when would the universe hold, this love to be kept untold

Should they wait a few more years

Should rain shed a few more tears

 Or, let them be afloat, together on a boat.


Let Her Go

When I turned five by age, my father gifted a bird in cage

All exalted by beauty of bird, the real grief was never heard

I tried to talk, to feed, to play, all night and day

In cage she would lie as if it was better to die

Saw a herd in the sky, realized she too wanted to fly

Ran all down to the floor, just to open her door

 The hope turned into freedom, and wings set for the mile

She perched on my shoulder, her chirpings met with my smile

The moment felt so divine, was it her freedom or mine

Do we need to part, for our love to grow?

Should I hold her hand or let her go?

Should a Soldier Die

Why should we kill for the peace of our land

How are we heroes with blood on our hand

In the name of the country, should a soldier die

Or the theory of nation was itself a lie

Crazy things happen when two souls collide

No one knows what to reveal and what to hide

They let all flags be high and all hatred be torn

In the mid of war, love was born.

Smile of Syria

When you inhale the gunpowder instead of fragrance of your love

When you taste the flaming families instead of roasted chickens

If you could ever realize how much we pay to spend a day

If you could ever decide to visit our side

I promise to make you walk along my mile

Just tell your world to return my smile.

Girl Through Smoke

I was new to the city. Like everybody else, employment whom we give metaphors of ambition, dreams or a bright future dragged me to urban hotchpotch. I shifted with two more job seekers who were a kind of “not much caring about the world” but I mingled with them comfortably. Perhaps, I didn’t seek for reason in whom to trust or whom not to. Only aspect which held us common was smoking which transformed our threads into unbreakable bonds.

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Sustaining Creation

The day that man allows true love to appear, those things which are well constructed will fall into confusion and will overturn everything we believe to be right and true- Divine Comedy

Somebody has truly said that if you can not define something within a line, write a book on it. Consequently myriad books with indefinite explanations about love has been written although people are still seeking the true meaning of it. Let me add one more drop to the ocean.

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Girl at the Cliff

From dawn to dusk in the cabin with a desktop and a chair, unwanted lunch at the canteen, I am at stress everyday when I come back and sit down on the sofa in my drawing room. I switch on my television not because I want some entertainment or relaxation, because it just looks different than my computer. I don’t live my life, I live for my life. First word to relate with my life will be “why” because I always wonder why I came on this planet. I am one of them who like to go into depressions because they don’t have courage for suicide, whose white hair is not the symbol of wisdom but of repeated dose of stress, who smoke in chain with an expectation from the next cigarette to relieve complexities of head. In short I am a working man.

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Three days have passed since his father had passed away. After the boisterous mourning remain only silences. Without an utter, Nirmala kept the dinner plate in front of Abhay. For the first time, the mother didn’t put her playful scold to her drunken son. Alcohol was not trespassing inundated hearts. Abhay tried his best to look at the food but he could only see memories of his father forcibly making him eat. Pushing back the chair, lingering he started to head towards the drawer where he used to hide his cigarettes between the drawers. It was his father’s desk where not even his father could doubt about the secret storage of nicotine.

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When I look at you, I can not look within

Without looking at you, life seemed to be a sin

Dilemma persisted until both are choked

Fairy tales erased, doors to light revoked

But universe wants us to be under the same tree

The rain, the wind and love, God put the souls free.

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