The Flow

Through the wild

And the kind.

I shall pass.

Through the times

And the rhymes.

I shall pass.

Through the mountains

And grasses.

Valleys and passes.

Through the crowds

And crevices.

And feeble horizons.

Like the thief

Who has lost his

Way.

Like a soldier

Who has forgotten

His face.

I shall bend, mend,

Sometimes

Meander and blend.

Rolling, falling, 

Slowing if 

Needed.

Ebbing, jumping, 

Striking if 

Demanded.

I shall pass

To make way,

I shall pass

To move ahead. 

I shall pass 

Because, I've to

Survive. 

Blankness

On the stillness

Of the lake lies

A blanket of 

Blankness. 

Birds are not

Allowed here.

Not stones.

Nor tones.

It's not like

The blank of

Canvas or 

A paper.

Where you

Can paint

Or write.

This blankness

Is self-imposing.

Life-consuming. 

Colors die here. 

Often, things 

Are forgotten. 

They fall within

Themselves. 

They implode,

To have themselves

Erased here. 

Sometimes

It's the dark.

Sometimes the

Eerie silence.

Can be oblivion

Or the blinding

White.

It can be you too,

Even me.. on

Those numb

Lonely nights. 

When we lay dead

On that thin line,

Not knowing

Whether we're

Awake or asleep. 

Dead or alive. 

Conspiracy

Does the silence 

Know about the 

Scream of the words?

The paper be aware

Of the bondage as

We write?

A tiny pebble has sent 

A rippled storm across 

A sea that was calm.

The vast darkness,

Is now afraid of the oblivion 

It might face by a spark. 

Does the emptiness know?

About the conspiracy of

Rampaging thoughts?

Even god's existence

Has bounced off from 

The fragility of human mind. 

Here and Now

The road with

Two curves of 

Bends.

Has no beginning

Or an end.

The birds think

It goes up and

Down.

But the passing

Packet of air,

Takes it from

Anywhere to 

Everywhere.

And the dry leaves 

Assume it goes

Nowhere.

The traveler 

Doesn't stand

And stare.

He's only concerned

About the left  

And the right.

Everyone,

Who presumes

That it goes

Somewhere,

Is in a prison.

Only the road is

Truly free.

Letting others go,

It stays there.

With no beginnings

And ends.

Only the road has

Traveled..

The destination

Is then and there.

This too shall pass

Sharp edges 

Will fade away,

Against the grate

Of passing time.

Shades will fill 

The divide,

Between the 

Black and white.

The right and 

The wrong

Will be occupied

With IFs and WHYs. 

The splits in the

Skin will be 

Braced by touch

Of a hand. 

The distance in 

Your eyes will be

Held with an 

Incessant desire.

Your sadness is

Meaningless.

So is your happy

Face.

What's done will

Be undone..

Wounds will

Soon be dead.

Pain or pleasure.

Sharp edges will

Fall and this too

Shall pass.

Prison of Perception

There's nowhere to go

But everywhere.

The moon and the sky

Seem dope but

The cosiness of this room

Is also fine.

There's nothing to 

Think about,

But everything.

Our nothingness in

The universe.

Death is inevitable.

But this material urge

Is beautiful too.

There's nothing to eat

But everything looks

Pliable.

Veg, non-veg and

The way I want to eat you,

Even cannibalism seems

Like an option.

This, that,

Either, or.

Neither, nor.

To the sway of mind,

Everything to nothing..

What's right and

What's wrong?

Upside down, even

Sea is an open sky.

Things will end

You may run like

A charging bull.

From place to

Place.

People to people.

Over the fence,

Over the fate.

But eventually 

All things end.

There will be 

A bend.

No-one left to

Lend you ears.

To douse your fears.

Nothing will be

Left to look back.

And ahead there

Will not be a 

Simple, straight track.

From a kid who

Just learnt to talk

To the granny who

Vents ghastly

Laughs.

The galaxies in

The far-fetched skies

To the quarks in

The depth of an atom.

The bull on run

Needs to gasp.

And eventually

Everything needs

To halt.

A bullet that has 

Left a gun to a

Flower that just

Lured its hunt.

A second has 

To eat an hour.

A day has to

Subsume a year.

The rage in your

Haughty eyes to

The mellow memory

Of her rose scented

Smile.

From the faded pic

You hold between

Your guilt and 

Prayers.

To the life you've

Built in colorful

Layers.

Your revolution will

Turn around.

Plan will fall will 

Fall apart.

And as you run out

Of breath and

Wait for a gasp..

Eventually,

There will be a bend.

And everything will 

Come to an end.

.. 

You're the master

Fate is a spectator

With lots of 

Disregard for your

Life.

You alone make 

Your destiny.

Series of choices

Is what you are.

High was never

In the bottle.

Neither in the

Alcohol.

Flight was never

In the wings.

Nor in the assured

Skies.

Cooking is an act

Of a craving toungue.

A murder is first

Committed in head.

The trigger of the

Gun is often mind.

Hilt of the knife

Is always your hand.

For better or worse

You alone are 

Responsible for your

Acts. 

As, even the Gods

You worship can

Turn out to be 

As dumb as you are.

Hunt

Stars born.

Then doze off.

Even the 

Galaxies die.

Demons are

Killed.

Gods are 

Forgotten.

Predators to

Prey.

Blue whale to

A Sting-ray-

Only time

Is immortal.

Rest all are

Its victims.

Doesn't matter

At what end of

The gun you're.

In the end-

You too will be

A good hunt

For a

Better hunter.

Our Insignificance

The stars burst.

Oceans dry.

Mighty demons

Can die and 

Even the gods are

Forgotten.

Oblivious is time.

And here we're

With the pomp

Of our significance. 

It's okay

It's okay to be
Little confused
And little lost.

What will you do
With all that clarity
And straight intent?

Give up tea and
Advise others how
Sugar is a poison?

It's Ok

It's okay to be little sad
And little lost.
And it's okay to not have
All blasting happiness.

Beer is cool. But the
Evening tea is life. Love.
And I think that's where
We perfectly belong.

Little hot, little sweet.
Perfect sometimes,
More adrak other times.
But overall, living it.

Sipping it,
Making through.

Blame

I suppose,
Blaming others is a really
Funny evolutionary adaptation.

When we emotionally fail
We say heart is shit. Should
Have listened to my mind.

When we logically fail we say,
Should have followed heart.

I mean wtf is this?
Both are fucking part
Of the same freaking mind.

Maybe blame is a evolutionary
Mechanism to move on with life.

Agents of Time

Death is
The final nail;
In the coffin.

Oblivion is
The Rust;
That follows.

One to end.
One to efface.

Only time is
Immortal.
Rest all are
Its victims.

Novel Appeals

Sometimes,
The same hunger
Needs to be
Satiated differently.

Need for new eyes,
To perceive the same
Horizon creatively.

Coffee tastes different
On heights.
Even shit costs more
In flights.

Food is poison if
Out of place.
Even a hunter is
Hunted outside a context.

Same stories from
Different mouths,
Sound different on
Same the ears.

Same tears on a
Different face has
Made the Hyena,
A hypocrite.

And when it all

Came down to

A simple question.

It was never about 

The taste of water.

The answer lied in

The appeal of thirst.

Here and Now

Right now,
I could be; anyone.
Anywhere.

The good. The bad.
Something better,
Or maybe worse.

But I'm here.
At this moment;
I'm just me.

And it has taken,
A lifetime;
To be here. To be me.

A Free Breath

Mind's on the
Wrecked past.
Eyes; cast away.
A bleak future.

Sitting with
A cup of tea.

And,
Sip by sip;
Breathing away,
This moment.

Just Passing By

While I ride the
Wheels of time.
Life's passing by
Like the wind;

Sometimes slow,
Sometimes fast.
Up and down.
Hot and cold.

Is there a destiny?
I don't think so.
We three are,
Just passing by.

A Storm in a Teacup

Right. Wrong.
Good. Bad.
To be. Not to be.

Decisions. Confusions.
A daily tussle
With thoughts.

Mind is a
Battlefield; and
I'm a war prisoner.

Hypocrisy

Just because-
Erect, bipedal and
Infected by a little sanity.
Are we human enough?

An attribute to a noun.
Hypocrisy at it's best.

Our barbarism;
Honey coated; with
The justifications of
Our evolutionary triumph.

Until someone else
Writes our histories-
Heaven will go by favor.
And we'll always be-

The 'human' beings.