Have you ever?

Have you ever felt the soil beneath your feet?
Have you ever walked on the green-misty grass?
Have you ever got drenched in the reviving summer fall?
Have you ever awaited the blissful morning rays?
Have you ever?

Have you ever looked back on your life?
Have you ever looked back on you?
Have you ever been you?
Have you ever?
Have you?

Have to.
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I wish I were…

I wish I were the sky…
To be the vast expanse, to know no boundaries,
To be the transition of changing seasons,

To mock the people who pray and kill.
To see how a tiny little planet hide n seek; day n nights, revolving!

To know, how the wind teaches the birds to fly against it.
To realize there are butterflies flying along with scavengers.

To be the battleground for the darkest of clouds before they explode into thunderstorms.
To understand sun is a star amongst million such.

To inspire people who keeps a dream.
To be the womb from where goose-bump-evoking rain ooze out!

To remain the empty space, where in me, there is another thousand skies.
I wish I were…
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I’m running away from me.

I’m running away from me.
I’ve become a stranger in me!
I ignore the hymn sang by my heart.
I pretend I didn’t hear it.
I remain dump; I curse the defiance in me.

Each day I’m newly born.
I’m unaware, what’s happening?
By the time I get accustomed to the daily sham,
I kill myself.

I reincarnate the very next day,
Failing to rediscover me, I start to cry…
Meanwhile,
I woke up from the dream which I were in.
Yet I did find the tears real.
Wiping it off, I start to run.
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I'm the Principle duly engaged by dreams…

I may be an expression unexpressed.
I may be a destination unexplored.
I know,

I’m a moss, a fungus, a dirty little weed in the swamp.
I’m that bloody discolored loser,
Waiting to see what magic feat is Victory.

I’m nothing less than –
Ditch water.
Filthy Flamboyance.
A Day that is ignored.
A Night disliked by owls.

Still I believe,

I’m –
The Theory that has hadn’t solved.
The Propaganda that hadn’t been proliferated.
The Dogma unscathed by ambitions.
The Principle duly engaged by dreams…

I’m sick of saying –
“I can do anything expect what I always wanted!”
.

How Can I come out of grey?

‘What makes life go green?’
‘What should inspire me more?’

When clueless questions make my decisions abruptly bad, it stings!
Why I’m unable to enter the door which is left opened before me?
What obsession is pulling me back?
Should I crush my dreams? My desires…

No lucky dice ever supported my fortune. I don’t mind.
When thousands of unanswerable queries bloom in the brain,
No night rain soothes me, nor any kiss of the wind did heal me...

Is it the time you no more listen to your hearts call?
I see large plumes of dark smoke right before my eyes.
How will I come out from this speck of chaotic dust? This prickly grey!
I’ve no tears left with, but I want to cry.
.

The White Pebbles.

It was near a green hillock, in the valley; I saw a tiny brook oozing out down to touch a stream. it was flowing westwards deep into the sea. I saw the smooth round pebbles reposing to the music made by the gushing water. I saw a few white pebbles untouched by the glory of sunlight glitter at my sight. I could feel their warmth, bliss and shine, hooking its sharp wedge onto my eyes. I knew it would be a gift worth to speak my love.

I knelt down to the brook, cupped in my hands a tiny part of it, and splashed it onto my dreary face. The sleepy me was revitalised. Somewhere far, I heard cacophony of some unknown birds. Above me it was various thick green hues’s and textures of spread out leaves. I saw my shuddering reflection surrealistically staring at me. But my eyes were searching the pebbles, which I would gift to my lover. Wouldn't be she a lucky soul, lucky enough to hear my heartbeats inside a tiny little stone?

I saw the white shiny-curvy stones faintly through the growing ripples. As caught in a chilly mist inside the flowing water they seemed liked a bunch of fledgling’s waiting for their mother bird’s broad warmer wings. They were mirthless and feeble. All sorts of images went pass through by my mind. But I was eager to pick one pebble only to gift her, her childhood innocence, which made the white pebbles more precious than any great diamonds chiselled.

Feeling the chillness of the flowing icy water, I touched them. I felt the roundness; smoothness and the inheritance of unrequited love which they were unable to unwind to the flowing stream, caressing them for ages. I knew they were big boulders before. I could sense the transition; an electrifying spark was entering my veins. I was blessed by them; 'the sacred white pebbles'. How lucky would be my girl when she’ll hold this tiny sand-sphere of love in her timid hands? I’m sure her eyes will learn how to wear a smile, how not to drop no tears; and to understand love much beyond the grin of a pretty face.

I picked a stone to gift, but I placed it back.
.

What I forgot to behold?

At times I know, even the freezing January mist doesn’t give me the solace to be me. I wonder what I’ve dreamt, foreseen willingly has remained a dream. What does it took from me? What made my path unclear? Isn’t it what my cognition gone dumb? Or is it the way things have to be after you lose your heart that was not ticking inside you?

I’ve been never so this unanswered, never was a nerd as of now, I live sleeping the day and playing with the night. I never knew the life would show me such a grotesque face painted with the arrogance of abstract defiance. I fell short, counting on my ignorance; I forgot to live for me. I forgot I was selfish. I forgot I had to catch a moon that was blue!

I forgot to behold, to persuade my innocence that was inspiring me. little did i wish to realize - we are two different psyche; two poles apart.
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