Grand Illusions

 

With sand-grains grasped in my hands,

fleeting clouds in my heart

and enforced philosophies in my head,

I set out to win the kingdom

that never existed!

Awakening

 

In the mist-veiled silence of a dream,

I sleep-walked into the crazy grasp

of a thorny bush.

All we just need is a prickly bite

to see the reality!

A Normal Grip

 

If there is a storm around you,

I mean nasty, leering sea-storm

churned out by the incurable circumstances,

Whining like a dog won't help,

Nor will the majestically brave lion's roar

to tame the storm help you.

It's better that we try to swim

to the best of our humble capacity,

Leave then the rest to the unknown forces.

Believe me,

even the burning core of the nastiest storm,

ultimately embraces

the cool ice block of a genuine effort!

A Pure Religionist

 

Religion mine isn't that weak,

So as to cripple me

to condemn and hate some other religion.

I don't have to hate others

to prove love for my own.

Sugar-coated Hook

 

Was it your love?

Or the fishing hook of some winning, crushing trait,

On which you had expertly put

smart, suave, attractive and beautiful bait.

Love-cuts

 

Love leaks out of my body,

drop by drop.

Her cuts are incurable:

The non-healing holes;

the ever-existing outlets

for the mellowness inside

to seep out and turn stones.

Moving on

Lynched by loneliness,

I surrendered to the

sweet tyranny of solitude,

The wounds healed,

The suffering receded,

They moved away

like shifting shadows,

Painful memories lagged behind

and turned milestones on the foggy path,

Of course sweet breeze blows sometimes

and carries syrupy memories from behind,

They leave a smile on my lips

and are again left behind, as I move on,

like sweet path-side flowers,

I look back,

They wave a sweet good bye

with a still sweeter sigh,

And thus we have to move on,

All alone

to our destination next,

And pitch our tent at one fine dusk

and go for a long, long sleep.