Go.

There are some desires which we all will have to quench, only to please us. Desire in which I'm stuck up now, may be frivolous, may be of no significance to a second eye-- it would even may raise their eyebrows- but it is very much unavoidable to me, for the want of being me, I must chase it. I’ve decided to go behind it.

Why should I care for other peeping eyes starving out in the middle unable to wrap their deepest desire?  I’m into it. You should go with yours or should find yours. There is no one else than you to go behind your wants or to give you the slightest healing touch you always wanted! Go behind your deep desire. Only for you.

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Uncertain Times

My helplessness becomes my evergreen shade to me.

The sand through I walk becomes my only soothe to live.

The faint light of the night becomes my narrow hope to next day.

The slim crescent becomes the modish soothsayer.

My loneliness becomes my untried meditation.

The dry leaves falling to my room becomes my unsung requiem of friendship.

The wind that seeps through my broken window becomes my lady for the day.

The musty room I laze becomes my dishevelled castle of dreams.
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My Bridge.

Am I building a bridge from me to my dreams?

Am I living a life indebted to many?

How long should I wait again to win over my own slowness?

Am I walking slowly or did I ever walk?

Why should I cry when I never responded to my own heart’s call?

Even when people say – “There is a gleam in your eyes…” I find it  hard to be in accord with them. I know; they observe me, very keen.

My heart pound like a boxer's who is waiting to start his final bout to get a result, which would heal his soul wounding his challenger’s self. From here, heart beats faster.

From nowhere, an unknown pain pierces into my veins; I feel sick. I smell death.

I don’t know why my desired roads are closing one by one, even before I walk halfway through it?

I fear.

Still, I’m trying to find my road from the battered roads.

I let my self loose to all strangles happening inside my brain. I hug my uneasiness.

I slip into a deep slumber to my fantasies, where I wedge the gap between my dreams and what my mind craves. I live inside my dreams; at least I live here.

My bridge from me to my dreams is finally connected somehow.

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Island!

Am I turning into a sleepy island where no vegetation would ever grow? Have been I remained an island of similar sort always? I loved sea –for it carried me and my hopes- I don’t want to be in another shore. Turning to an Island, I want to slowly float among the tides being a muddy ship. No great mariner shall not decide my course-let them scull their own thoughts, let them moor it first- I won’t care yet another un-captained salty mud-ship travelling along me. I would float from blue to deep blue, and other hues of marine blue. Amidst another other thousand islands, I would be the abode of silence until my soil is sedimented to the seabed where seaweeds sprout; seahorses live.
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Love is always in the air!

Love is always in the air! When it somehow touches you limping, you feel you are on top of a hill breathing the freshest mass of air. Airborne Imagination kisses you. It gives you fairy white wings. You travel with wind. And yet again, if you feel you need same mint air, when you are really atop a mountain- you're suffocating in love. You become the sheep shaped cloud which doesn’t cause rain. You dissolve into air.
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A Shiny Hope!

You were here when I stepped in.

The surprise in which I’d been was my prelude to the love for you.

The state of daze you were in, made you lose your steps.

You walked into my room.

I entered following You,

You walked back- touching me not!

I looked at you. Silence.

You looked at me. Silence.

Those few seconds we were not strangers.

I felt the tremble of your heart.

I presume your heart also had felt the same.

I heard the sound of a distant rain – You were nearing to me.

But you walked out.

Wasn’t I wrong? Or my preconceptions were?

I saw you walking away. I awoke. You gifted me a longing, a Shiny hope of love!

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I see a few stars growing from the sea!

I see a few stars growing from the sea.

You said they are guitars falling from the unlit sky.

I differ. You differ.

He thought they are yellow tulips thrown into the sea.

He differs!

We all differ! And we fight, until one cry.

Why do we differ seeing the same wavy strokes?

We are people, but not same people. So we differ.

And we fight, and we fight. We all differ.

I still see the roots.

Do you yet see the strings?

He still thinks it as few pulpy flowers to be kissed by the fish!

At last we all agree. We surely see the sea.

And continue to fight, until we all cry.