Much more

Pointing out at my little fingers

You taught me to count.

Made numbers my forte

And nail art my piano.

You pronounced my flaws

In terms unknown to me.

Had to drink up an award( or two)

To digest my butterflies.

Our discussions echo still

In that room now void.

Our songs are still played

At moments of an idled mind.

I trekked upon the crescendo

Only to fall hard subito.

To the fermata that followed

My heart went staccato.

I play today,

With all my heart

After hours of patience

That you bestowed upon me.

Gave me the love

Which I needed most.

Your trust – the only melody

That has made me believe

That I can do so much,

So much more.




The moon shines bright tonight.

Denied by the Earth,

He bears her shadow partially,

As she turns towards the sun.

They tried keeping peace.

They rarely fought for her.

But when they did,

She was harmed most.

The moon went around her

For months and years.

Burnt a part of him each night

Only to make her smile.

He touched her heart

Which lies deep in the sea.

Just the waves and tides

Were for others to see.

His brighest of days

Were feasts to the heavens.

His darkest of days

Were lit by oil lamps.

Earth loved, not him,

But the sun so majestic.

A half of her always

Thought of him, day or night.

Little did she know,

That he had many admirers

Who did pretty much

The same at different times.

The moon tried,

Tried very hard to shine.

He reflected the sun’s charm

To his beloved’s delight.

But Earth always knew,

She would die without the sun.

For it is he

Who gave her life.

While she was busy

Admiring the magical star,

He danced around her

Like she danced around him.

What she didn’t know,

Was that the moon lit up

The side forgotten by the sun.

He gave her hope

When there was none.

From Her Parted Soul

She could have been beautiful,
Had they let her live.
Her flight of creamy flutter,
Her room of witching events
They wove, turning to deception.
They dressed from her parted soul.
She could have been glorious,
Had they been fair.
Her hinge made residence,
Her strength taken for play
Stressed, ripped and caged her.
They adorned from her parted soul.
She could have been graceful,
Had they loved her differently.
Her resplendent plumage,
Fed her, with much of greed.
Took away her children first.
They ate from her parted soul.
She could have been stunning,
Had they protected her.
Her magnificent weapons,
Seeked for her, but with desire,
Until her race disintegrated.
They survived with her parted soul.
She could have been exquisite,
Had they known her value.
Her presence being a boon,
Hauled her sisters to sheets
And reared her for many a gut.
They lettered from her parted soul.
She could have been imperial,
Had they respected her existence.
Her unmatched caliber,
A penalty to her assemblage,
Plundered her right to creation.
They ravished from her parted soul.

It’ll go on forever…

It’ll go on forever
It is a worm, a wriggly thing.
It could keep eating at the start.
It could change all that is happening,
It could gobble up whole parts.

It’ll grow bigger at every bite.
It would leave behind its past at times
And emerge out to a better sight.
It’ll now chew at beats of wind chimes.

Soon will bring a stage of depression,
Of conversion and magical portion.
During this time of transformation,
It’ll change all of its proportions.

To come out, it has to try.
And before that, set everything right.
For once it decides to fly,
To look at the world at a different height.

It doesn’t wait for long,
It just takes its flight along.
A touch of a breeze is enough,
And it shall part to become tough.

It never waited for anyone.
It is its own life-saver.
This might be a dreamy one,
But it’ll go on forever.




A spikelet

The point of ink soils.
The unflawed canvas it spoils.
Impure canvas elated.
Its lowliness abrupt uplifted.

The spikelet dwells on her.
For the much received pamper,
Protection, its responsibility.
Although limit to her beauty.

Ever together is a phantom
T’is ubiquitous at random.
Error to your concealing,
Always the fellow feeling.

Mole at the main stage.
Oh! But you aren’t a sage.
It shall be your theme.
Blemished yet moonbeam ?

Bowed manner at your brim.
My heartbeat its synonym.
Broken at thy dysphoric eye.
After much heat, T’is to purify.

T’is for you, who rose,
I shall become spikelet.
For t’is you who I chose,
To protect.




It’s amusing how life can be strange. She shows you how she plays, the way she connects things to another. Just like nerve cells in a brain. Sometimes you don’t know how two things can be connected until you suddenly realise it.
Life shows you that people can be complete psychopaths. But can have a deep history behind them which made them the way they are. Some of those scars or wounds are hard to heal or just hard to accept sometimes. Yet all of it seems but a dream as time passes by. One might sit one evening and just laugh at it someday thinking what kind of person he/she was back then. Yet it all lies in the magic of realisation.
It shows how people change with time. Of course, it being a form of dimension, it brings change. And maybe that very moment of change cannot be forgotten. Just like the little magic one experiences when doing things from the heart. It could be anything. But those are things which one never forgets. It’s connected to a part of you. A part of your soul. You know that when it happens, it touches your soul and just takes you out into the space. Space where many more arrive, but through different sources. A place where you find heaven within this cage of a life. It would seem like eternity before you return back to real life. But those moments are the ones which keep us going. Those are the ones which keep deep souls to remain on earth for one last time before they find their infinity within themselves. And until you find an infinity within you.