An Old Journal

Let me capture

The time

For it might not return

When years will pass by

and we will not be nearby

When you ll be tired of tides

low and high

Someday while emptying the boxes

you ll come across 

An Old Journal

Scribbled with words of mine

and sketches of our life

For pages will turn Brown 

but we will be there

Brisk and Alive

Let me capture

The time

For it might not return

Someday when you ll be gloomy and sad

While wandering in  hallway

your eyes will fall on 

An Old Journal

Saying "happy old times"

To bring 

you buckets of laughter

and hundreds of smile

Let me capture

The time

For it might not return

Someday when you ll be out of your mind

And will forget my name

You ll bump into 

An yellow Old Journal

written under my name

To bring back your lost friend ..

The Wait

He waited on the shore
looking up at the horizon
For the only beauty he adore
to see her ascend
in silver glaze she wore

He sat there every night
tracing her steps ,light
He whispered words of love
in the wind ,blowing
Hoping she will answer for once.

He sang for her lady love
"Tides will come and
  be gone
This mortal, Milady will
never leave you alone.
He was made to love
Love you
when he leaves the world
He ll leave loving you ."

Thousands of night escaped
he still waited
for the day she will descend
He was portraying her
in his words there
Glancing at her shadow in water
Where she stood calm  bright and brighter

That was the night
she came walking down the aisle
when Gods finally opened the door
More radiant than she ever looked
Red as rouge as she smiled
Tears rolling down as  broken  string of pearls


There she was in-front 
standing as a blooming girl
He was not ashtonished
but stunned


She held his hand
lifted him up the land
And there they were
rising up the ground
Loosing into each other's eyes


He didn't say a word
neither did she
Instead they let their heartbeats do the talk
They donot tell each other
as they both knew
clear as morning dew

Now he shines next to hers
a Star closer than others

School (being nostalgic)

School days !!
We blamed people for creating schools but at that time we didn't realise its importance .
And when we did it was time to part .
Sharing tiffins, playing games ,mischiefs ,dancing and singing like a fool ,fighting ,making mistakes getting punished and much more .We didn't care what others thought , what we cared was that we all are together bounded by a thread of friendship.

It had innocence it had simplicity .. and it still has a power to put a smile on your face.

Our laughter still echoes
in those corridors
Where we had woven
thread of our friendship

It still has our imprints
etched on  benches
And every corner
contains a vivid picture

I find us
in those giggling faces
hopping around
And nostalgia wraps me in
as I take a walk in
play ground

Follow your HEART..

I walk on those
paved path
Trying to follow
the  carved steps
As I stroll ahead
I smother inside
My steps hesitate
I try to hold on
But  I fall
and I lay there
in the eeriness of path
As I cry over
my  scars
and buried desires
A warm gush
rubs my skin
I feel the wind
wild and free
I look up to
see those
twinkling lights
taking a new direction
I stand again but
my steps deviate
to an unknown road
Lost in midst of silver night
and reckless wind.
I am walking again
But I dont smother
anymore
I am following again
But its my heart
that I follow now..

On forlorn road

I stand there
on a forlorn road
Unaware of the heat
rising beneath

Lost in those memories 
lost in the past
Lost on the path where 
I stand aghast

But then it rains and 
I regain my Identity my Name
As I get drenched  
letting go off my pain  
with the tears that 
follow the dripping rain ..

LOST INNOCENCE

LOST INNOCENCE.
What comes to your mind when you think of little kids?
I think of faces with a playful bliss , a carefree smile and embellished with innocence.

But what about those kids who don't  get an opportunity to know what childhood is?
I have come across so many children who are put to work at this tender age.They are not in someone's captive and forced to work but its the POVERTY.
Yeah ! Its the poverty which has trapped them in its vicious circle .
They grow differently as a phase of  life is missing .I noticed their faces ,they have lost that innocence  instead they look mature .They  donot look carefree  but their fragile shoulders droop with the burden of responsibility they carry.Their soft hands develop scratches and turn tough  as they lift the heavy weights.
They don't play with the toys ,don't talk of the fairytales instead they carry axes ,coals ,wood and they talk  about the ,fields ,crops , and coins.

They don't complain that they are losing a beautiful part of their life but they keep a tendency to work even harder to achieve the luxury they lack in . Poverty crushes the emotion that never developed .Few are misused and mislead as world is cruel on weak .

Its sad to say but there are millions of children"the building blocks of our future " are entrapped in savageness of poverty.