that day, the child in me
told me to fly
so i jumped, jumped higher
to touch the sky
each time, I used a little more of my strength
wondering, how much more can I use
hoping, to go a little higher with each try
the cotton like clouds smiled at me
urging me to reach to kiss them
that smile on their face, made me a little shy
the birds flying, making patterns pretty
encouraged me to go, join their flock
to go to a world of dreams
so I never would have to cry
that day….
as the child in me, told me to fly
i tried & with each try
was born – a new me….
halting it’s steps, going slow for some
speeding it’s pace to match the light for others
bringing fulfilment to the lives of many
making scarcity a fate for some
showing harmony walking its steps
dominating souls to war with its force
devoting loyalty to the kings of the kingdoms
making queens be faithless to their kings
sowing seeds of new life every moment
snatching existence at the same time, announcing deaths
influential & powerful yet vulnerable it is
Time – Epitome of Diversity
Epitome of Versatility
Epitome of Ultimate Power
Epitome of Completeness
for those children in Syria
and other places of war
do they even know the concept of celebrations
do they know what it’s like a birthday
what it’s like an anniversary
for them it’s only the sound of the bombs
gunshots around
deprived of food, deprived of clean water
no love for them
no mercy for them
to them
a cake would sound a miracle
A Palace
gloomy and dull
countless rooms with no windows
forbidding the sun, to light its darkness
heavy smell of rust in its walls
the ceiling, disturbingly high
as if some giant was to walk inside
no movements, no signs of life
the only sound coming from its thick silence
a heavy continuous snore
the pitch of it going too high, then coming low
making heavy music, fearsome to the ears
inside the palace so strangely awkward
deep in the room in the most center
lazying, on the coins of gold
watching over the treasure prodigious
The Red Eyed Dragon
morning, was bright & shining
with life all around
there were birds singing
as I touched my feet to the ground
give me a hug my princess
dad caressed my forehead
come, have your breakfast sweety
said mom with milk & bread
this world really was a perfect place
until, I stepped out of the gate
walking my way to college
they started to follow
lewd notes on my frame
made my spirit hollow
there was a push & hit
didn’t know what to think
ran as hard as i could
it was torn – my hood
my world became horrid & bent
i pinched myself to check
if it was a nightmare
or was i even breathing
i die a thousand deaths
to see that I am not safe
why for me in the whole world
my home is the only place
whispers of HOPE covered the sky
falling on earth like soft snow flakes
giving a dazzling sight for the eyes to behold
spreading positivity for the hearts to hold
the nights not darker not longer no more
days inspired, like rising waves on the shore
souls swarmed with zeal to the goal
unstopping, tirelessly ascended the slope
let’s see, let’s hear, let’s smile some HOPE
invincible, supreme, angelic – HOPE
lives fragmentary, broken
chasing greed, thriving for more
possessions irrelevant
competing to possess more.. more
naive to perceive, foolish to register
the merriment to be relished
hidden in tiny little things
goals as soon as achieved, newer set
no hours assigned to celebrate achievements
lives fragmentary becoming now hollow
beauty lost in the game of greed
leading lives to nothingness
making them empty
lives lifeless ultimately
ambiguous lives, lived by the living
in twin states of being awake or dreaming
overwhelming yet secretive
intrigues us souls to discover the relevance
the genuineness or the forgery
of both the worlds we spend our breaths in
are we real with these eyelids shut
or the color with our eyes open, is faithful
a mystery to remain so, never to be revealed
oh dreams and the other state of us
walk ahead of me
I shall follow
walk by my side
I’ll hold your hand
walk behind me
& I shall turn
to look into your eyes
consume your love
embosom you
till eternity
image source
all my life, never did I fail to make wishes
tried to make friends with them
called for them to come true
made effort to make them smile
sigh!
never did they bother
how dearly i felt for them
desperate to turn them to real
see how
both of us were determined
I
never failed to make my wishes
my Wishes
never failed to fail me
shall i urge you to support me a little
shall i ask you to come celebrate life with me
shall i aspire you to be beaming like the sun
shall i inspire you to leave the negative behind
shall i answer your questions if you may have any
shall i gently force you to smile a little
shall i make you forget all of your fears
shall i honor you today for your unmatched courage
shall i praise your serenity that fails the moon
shall i encourage you to climb no matter how high is the mountain
shall i ask you today for one more thing my dear
in the name of humanity
allow me to do all that I can, for you!
life is merriment, to take us high
an inspiration, to make us climb
it is an achievement, must we celebrate
a few of our failures, must we dare
its about relationships, must we hold close
its about mother nature, so we consume
it is the love, we relish we nurture
it is about our children, our future
its that beauty, in the eyes of the beholder
it is the fear, must we smoulder
its about pain, must we bear
its about tears, bound to be shed
isn’t it pretty, a blend of smooth and rough
like a concert with vintage music
composed by the supreme
must we play, must we sing
Can we term Sexual abuse as terrorism?
My vote goes to say YES!! You want to ask why??
Because it has the capacity to terrorize the victim, fill them with grief and puts them into a state of mind which requires a lot of effort to come out of. Sexual abuse is been experienced by many children and I don’t think there is a way to find out the numbers, as most of the victims choose not to disclose it.
It is sad that a girl accepts the life where she is challenged everyday with sexual abuse out in the open. On the road – walking, in a bus – travelling, sitting alone in a park and many other places. She starts to think that those idiots have a sad frame of mind and she will have to deal with it and hence, she prepares herself which she must but the right way to deal with the problem is to deal with the culprits in a strict manner.
I have experienced it and there are many more like me. It could happen anywhere, be it home or outside. Everyday, using the local transport in New Delhi, made me so easily accessible for all those sick idiots. They would just stand close, giving an excuse that the bus is too crowded. They would rub their body against wherever they could get access to you. Their filthy looks and such shameless attitude.
The abuse can be intensive or not too intensive, yet, it leaves a mark on your mind never to be washed away. It kills you from the inside every moment.
Even till date, when I think of those days when I faced the abuse, I get goosebumps.
The question in my mind now is – how are my daughters going to face it? A challenge that haunts me!!
i wonder why
i feel light like a feather
i feel the light in my heart
don’t need a reason to smile
i am beautiful from the inside
i glow like shining gold
i shimmer like a gleaming diamond
the scent of my body fragrant without any flowers
my eyes shine with zeal
don’t need any wings to fly
i am no more what i were
o dear is this your love
what you’ve done to me
not for me not for you
today, let it be for THEM
today, let’s dedicate our will
for the ones who are not at ease
the ones who know NO comforts
they who burn their skin everyday in the sun
for a few coins to buy their children the cheapest bread
they who chose to sweat but not to beg
they build houses with all comforts for the rich
get to dream their dreams lying on hard bricks
they who clean the roads for the rest
no access to basic washrooms to themselves
they who give drives in fancy cars to the master
get to walk 20 miles to reach to work
there are millions of them out there
facing life with such tremendous courage
today, let’s salute their will
for they are powerful enough
never to give up
but to challenge life every second
emptiness of the vase
filled by the light
with the green lamp
lit by its side
the spring is gone
there are no more flowers
the vase waited to be loved
why are there so many days in a year
long enough to keep the spring away
somehow, doesn’t matter much
they both have concluded to be together
have fallen in love
the lamp lit
&
the vase without flowers
my dear photographer friends
sometimes, i am a little jealous of you
i am jealous of you in a positive way
i am rather intrigued
for you have the secret to eternity
you possess the art to capture life
to capture moments, so fascinating
you pleasure millions of eyes, and hearts
you write music with your singing pictures
many lessons your art work reveals
with each click comes that beautiful sound
i live and relive your clicks
every time, i am presented with the result
so bravo, my dear photographer fellows
keep bringing the world to me
i know i am a bit jealous of you
but i am jealous in a positive way
Love
still a child she was, no more than eight or nine
eyes filled with dreams, with an urge to fly
meagre means, harsh life
still, there was comfort of parents around
there came a day that brought the storm
separated by her parents, into the hands of human traffickers
a nightmare, she was to see with her open eyes
forced into the trade of sex for the rest of her life
now the world knows that child as a prostitute
a prostitute to serve many monsters a day
one after the other they assaulted her will
with no shame to cause her excruciating pain
slowly her tears had started to dry
she had to be bold, learned not to cry
she yearned for a family and a husband every moment
knowing all her wishes were in vain
she bore a child at the age of 16
still at work with her baby crying in the adjacent room
for she now had a mouth to be fed too
and they would’t let her escape this hell
she was no daughter, no sister, now wife to no one
still a human, a mother she was
no words could ever describe her sufferings
if only there was someone to take her out of the dark
the society looks down at her in a manner ridiculous
will they realize ever
she was thrown into this disgusting pit
her eyes incapable to see no dreams no more
now she is termed as a prostitute (a bitch)
and yes,
she was forced to become one
it was never her choice
my heart goes out for the sufferings of all the victims of human trafficking and sex trade
falling from the heaven, as if
slipping away from the hands of the almighty
glorifying gravity, speeding to kiss the sand
fragmented, scattered
swaying in directions to the command of the wind
lessening in size with passing seconds
clashing with all that comes in way
making life to drip, glow the greener way
ever wondered such power such passion behind
engaged in making music of their own kind
with the tune of the clash of the clouds
these dancing drops of RAIN
I sat in my room, dimly lit
scent of rich mahogany in all corners
covering the walls and the ceiling paneled
books of literature assembled neatly
untouched on heavy wooden shelves
that chair rocked occasionally
fueled by some air from under the door planks
on the table a little high on the side
sat the gold brown rotary phone
seldom it rang with a few heavy rings
on the hand carved rich wooden consoles
the caretaker had kept a bouquet of flowers
their fragrance mingling well with the polish on my table
I take a deep breath to live its flavor
I put the gramophone to work to play a sensuous tune
in a fine glass, poured me a double of my English whisky
sipped slowly the flavor that burnt my throat
a ritual that I follow every evening
for I am deeply in love with the luxurious richness
of my dimly lit room
image source : google
the poor is not poor anymore
he has aspirations rich
he looks up to the sky everyday
he thanks God for what little he has
the poor is not really poor
his children now go to school
shining eyes filled with dreams
strong will to create a future
the poor truly is not poor
for he is kind and generous
it pains him if they are in pain
his readiness to be of any help
the poor sometimes seems rich to me
his eyes have no sign of greed
while he is growing every moment
he makes merry of his little wealth
the poor for sure is rich now
celebrating life as it comes
grasping the trueness of our existence
keep trying & to never give up
squeezing happiness from tiny little things
as I take the flight of imagination
million musings with bright colors
sway loose, dance in my mind
making rainbow of beautiful poems
containing all possible emotions
as they put me to work
I hold a quill, fuel it with ink
ready with the paper of my heart
to be carved with gold
each time I decorate it with words glorious
I get to live my dream
I get to live, my dream of writing
sea shore o sea shore
how you welcome the waves
to make love to you a thousand times
yet to leave you again
sea shore o sea shore
how you offer your calm to someone
to live their loneliness
at the sunset, as they walk on your wet sand
sea shore o sea shore
how you beautify the setting sun
let it glow its soft rays on you
and then to leave you to the dark
sea shore o sea shore
how you mingle with the moon
to consume your serenity
to play the music of the night
then to hand you over to the dawn
sea shore o sea shore
how you enjoy being so giving
and never asking for nothing
sea shore or sea shore
please give me learning to the magic of life
We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows. – Robert Frost
Create the future you want to see
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