Torn broken shredded to pieces

Tearing of the soul 

Churning of the gut

A heavy thumping chest

Like the end of the road 

No where to go 

No where to escape 

Like the last days 

Of a cancer sore 

Choices to be made 

To live or let go

I choose to live 

With a head held high

I’m stronger than this storm

Can’t shake me off the ground

I’ll stay and I’ll live 

I’ll face the storm till it passes 

Till I get the strength 

To live and move on


Me for myself 

I struggle again 

To cross a burnt bridge

With a hole in the heart

And an anguished brain.

I struggle again 

Against all odds

To smile again 

And say it’s all okay.

I struggle again

Trying to understand

Tangled human behavior

And pain that it brings.

I struggle again 

To carry with routine

Ask questions why me

Then sleep over it. 

I struggle again 

To cross the burning bridge

Get to the other side

And say it’s all fine.

The one we meet 

We meet a lot of people everyday. We forget some, we remember some. There are very few we want to keep forever though. Those very few strangers who make a huge impression, leave a powerful impact on your mind and soul. 

We all meet someone at a phase of life when we need it the most. The times when we are forgetting ourselves and then these stranger angels appear and give life a meaningful turn.

How skeptical we are to these new entries and only when we look ahead and beyond, observe deeper and down, do we overcome the initial skepticism. How I met the one who looked strange initially but after a while I realized it was me, standing right in front of my eyes, talking to me like I talk to myself, already achieving what I wished to, living a life I had dreamt of. It was me . I met myself and I absolutely loved it . I am profoundly in love with this image of myself. Meeting myself at a stage when I the image was fading off was the most exhilarating experience. 

I don’t know how to end this but I want me till the end .

The Short lived Love 

How I wonder could something so magnanimous

Be so small to be concised 

In the page of a diary so small

At a corner in the brain so vast.
How could it be confined

Within the limits of a pink pen stand

And the memory of a red soft toy

Within the heart of now a stranger

Within the faded memory of the brain.
I wonder how the most powerful feelings of all

Which starts like it has no start or no end

Like the beginning of a new universe

Like the creation of a new being

Like the rise of a new star.
I am in a state of denial

As I fail to understand

How this new universe limits itself

In a tiny world of shrewds

In a mean world of hatred.
I do not believe in it’s death

It’s way too huge to die

The energy is spread somewhere

In the universe where I breathe

Now transformed to another.
The soul has changed it’s clothes 

Now not in the pink little pen stand

It’s out there but for sure

It has not died although

As huge as this can never die.
The toys have changed their shapes

The laughs are a little different

Those eyes have changed their colors

The humongous feeling but lives

This love can never be short-lived .

The Weaver Weaves

We all make plans; long term, short term, we all do. We all dream big and small and base our plans on these dreams. How many dreams keep shattering somewhere every second of every day.

How we collect those shattered pieces, join them together and weave a new dream. 

Rephrasing and rebuilding lives every second of every day. Trying to get up, dust ourselves and moving on every day. 

Had there been no dreams, the cycle of efforts would have stopped. So live, dream and keep moving. This is life, an endless pursuit of weaving and catching dreams.

A Delayed Meeting

Peeping through the corner of my eye, I immediately recognized that figure in the dim lighting. It was a get together and all the dentists from my branch were there, both natives and international. I had been trying to avoid this all through my life but destiny plays it’s own games. A small girl was holding his little finger. She looked like him.

My gaze was suddenly interrupted by a pretty looking tall and fair woman as she asked me, ” do you know him?” In a gust I replied,” well not that I remember very clearly” and pretended to look at the waiter’s direction. “Oh, I’m Mrs Gustavo and that’s my little princess. Very nice to meet you” she said.

I felt this strong weightless sinking feeling, like I couldn’t breathe for a while. Recollecting my composure, I smiled back at her and excused myself as I was about to throw up. Unable to handle the anxiety and my disturbed emotional state, I sat in the corner of that huge lawn.

Nothing seemed beautiful anymore, I kept sitting there, in a trans, lost in my world of 21, exchanging promises, smiles and kisses. 

The river and the cliff 

It had been a long week running after money, meeting deadlines and pleasing people. It seemed like a year. Only a month back she had moved to a new city where money screamed out loud and an unprecedented, never-ending race with dead end was been run by almost everyone with two legs. She joined too,  leaving behind her  peaceful life with grandparents. The pursuit of money ought to bring happiness she thought, but was taken aback by the cost she had to pay. In a month she had lost weight, her peachy glow  replaced by a tan and her mind had everything but peace. Weekend was here, so she boarded the evening bus straight to where she belonged finding herself sitting next to a calm flowing river bounded by a cliff on one side. With her feet dipped in and contemplating life, she realized it all makes sense. The cliff reminded her that no matter how life binds you, break free and flow like a river and find happiness in the path you traverse. Rejuvenated, with her smile back, she went to see her grandparents, all set to go to work the following week and the days ahead.


We are born, we live, we grow, we sit back and one fine day we all see the end to our ravishing journeys.

As with time, the art of acceptance is the one to master for human beings of reasonable age. By reasonable I mean all those who know what is happening around them, how life is treating them and how they respond to the treatment.

Accept all the good and the bad as it falls your way. Accept love when it comes, accept criticism, accept hatred, accept a companionship, accept the loss and gain, all in all, accept life. These are all part and parcel of a long journey and the more we accept changes and the environment around us, the more we grow through them.
There is no journey too smooth and yet no desert without an oasis. No night without a day and no sea without a shore. Accept all within. The days when you do well are yours and so are the ones when you fall. Accept the rise and fall. The moments of birth and demise, love and separation, joys and tears are all your moments. Embrace each one without any discrimination.

 An old man, looking through his life, sitting at the corner of his room, has retired. He worked hard all through his life, supported his family, raised two beautiful and  children. He desired a decent abode, a fine car and successful children. Today, he has everything he wished for, however his children are gone, his house is quiet with just his wife, his car lying in the garage as he has not many places to go. He looks back and then he looks here. What had he lost ? What was all that he was missing ? Didn’t he have everything today. Somehow what he couldn’t accept was life. He retired and suddenly all his social circle vanished, a fat salary turned into meagre income. We will all grow old. No matter how hard we work today, we all will retire someday and that would be the time to accept the little pleasures of life. Doing the small little things that we always wanted to do, learning new things that we never had time for. Every phase of life has its own purpose. Read in between the lines and figure out what is in store. Life is best when it’s mighty ways are accepted. Let the rain fall over your window pane and listen to the song it hums. Life definitely is one beautiful track.