There may be an another option
Waiting to breathe
Sidelined on the brim of silence
Looking for a chance

Chance in an another world
Waiting to flaunt
Unexplored, lost in eternity
Hoping to be found

To be found in some reality
In front of us yet invisible
Staring at our face
From some other dimension.

A dimension with another  me
Same face with different story
Stuck in the limbo
Waiting for the end.

End with another option

The lock down virus

Empty streets
Beneath the dull street lights
No more shadows can be seen
Human’s lock downed.

Rats are out of their holes
Cats are looking for prey
Dogs barking
All are on streets in hunger.

Social distancing
Market closed
Hike in price is an opportunity
Black market opens.

Taller the building more the opportunity
People in the chawls and slums deprived
No savings left, false politician speeches
Poor has no option

Spread of the pandemic
Rise of deaths
Rise of fear
Rise of government packages
Rise of nothingness

No employment
No daily wages
One hand four empty stomach

Exodus of migrants
From work place to native place
From Unseen fear
From hunger
From lost faith and hope
For them Poverty is the real virus.

Just one more day

Just one more day
I ask my brain who forever lives in trance
Just one more day
I ask to give life a another chance

Just one more day
I ask myself, before I cut my veins
Just one more day
And tomorrow; I might get rescued from all strains

Tomorrow we can start new
And I may turn good enough, smart enough.
Tomorrow we will start new
And for the world I still be ‘not enough’

I may end the smartest horse in the race
Or I may just end the same
I may succeed in what this world wants me to face
Or it may just be the end of the game

The cyclone of thoughts in my brain
Runs through the infinite time of loneliness
From the lanes of present and past
Nurturing in whispers of blame and carelessness

And when it’s full grown with taunts and shame
Where hope is no more his friend and faith not his game
He brings himself back to the place of uncertainty
To live a life or live in eternity

So, he holds a razor in one hand
And stares another whose veins he is about to slay
This is the time to take a last stand
And he decides to give life another day.

The Play

I have lived 100 pages and more 100 to live
Half way through, yet easy to conceive
Small is my part in the worlds play
That page by page continues to decay

Not much lived, but too much seen
Hooked at times and at times hopeless I have been
Such is the fiction and the characters around
With no emotion in their heart and empathy in the sound

And I still have 100 pages to live

I may have 100 pages to live
100 pages turned more 100 to believe
An honest world around me in the next chapter
Where I may achieve great or just turn into a bad actor

So, I shall continue and smile as I am being read
On the garden bench or on your bunker bed
Live, survive and breathe until the end
And that’s how together words we could mend

In this journey I am not the only one lost
I have been through bad; you may have been through worst
Unpredictable is the life, what to claim and whom to blame
Ruthless has been the time which holds no shame

So, don’t worry if you didn’t get the fame
Follow me deeply and our life has just been the same
Read; walk through the last pages of our glory
I shall meet you then and that would be the end of the story.


If you look closely in the dark
you will find a shadow
its everywhere, in the attic, inside a park
And at the edge of your window
but only if you seek dark
the dark will follow your path
nurturing by your fear
leaving behind the scariest mark
but only if you seek dark
dark will take your emotions and goal
And the day your soul turns dark
it will attract the darkest of all…

Fly, young bird.

I might not be able to save you this time
From the thievery, that this time brings along
Snatching you away from my safe treasury
To make you part of the world, which has a different song

So be it for one a defeat and for another an opportunity
If it serves you well at the end
I may forgive the time for its chicanery
But not myself, for missing the chance to mend

I might not be present for the final goodbye
To be part of the moment which I least want to remember
But still, fly my beloved, fly into the sky
Across the horizon, a challenge awaits for you to conquer

And when you are done, pretty much tired walking on the same path
Fly back home and we shall walk again on the shore
In our world, singing our song, relive the memories we hath
And Share the smile and tears underneath the rain, just like the old times between the moor

I shall wait this time until the time which has to come
Fly young bird; fly into that world until the day you return home…

Sea and their waves

I allowed those waves to touch me
As i welcome them in my world
Though, I fear the sea and the water which lies deep,
But, apart from all, I did allow them to touch my naked foot and make them wet,
And then return back to the mighty sea, where they came from.
Leaving me alone again.
i can feel the sand move underneath my neat anchored feet,
As if the world is falling apart and earth is pulling me in.
This repeats waves after waves, time after time,
For me just to observe the cycle,
the race between nature and living
Between fact and fiction
Between all those soul’s who touched my soul and left to meet others
Between the moment of emptiness and love
Between Me and her.


Those eyes mock him
and words spit fire
he still resists all this
by controlling his inner sire.

A knife is his only toy
and four walls his best friends
he waits for the right time
to bring all this to an end

he has a pet, a nightingale in the cage
away from vast misty forest
all day he screams and struggles
to accept the reality like the rest

one day he stood in front of the mirror
and looked straight into his eyes
I found myself too behind him
watching and hearing his tortured cry

life was never his journey, he deserves to live in hell
nurture there with the guilt of his deeds
and live more tales to tell

how much more is the question
he needs to suffer on earth
to prepare the trek
into the eternal hell

hell waits for him to pass
the dark stairs of judgement
where 3 faced evil and the curse welcomes
his soul to face more torment

so he slits his wrist..
the blood drips, so does his desperation through his veins
now is the time, to pay his debts.
finally! He pulls off his mask and departs with one more guilt and pain.

The daffodil

one morning as I walked through the garden
I found a daffodil on my way
it laid there like a poor maiden
with too much in her heart kept at bay
I Quietly sat on the garden bench
just opposite to where the poor daffodil lies
in just matter of few seconds, I was taken into the trench.
where no law of nature applies
too dark and long has been her wait
and so has been mine
a soul which match each others state
has finally met this time.