Rest

So deep in rest am I today,

And I think it won’t be enough.

I won’t wake up until it’s night,

Or a morning that I so hate.

 

Clever these people are, knowing where they would go,

And will move their bodies in hustle.

Messages will be pinged, appointments be made,

Places will they travel, quite a spectacular show.

 

Love, hatred, riches will be on display,

Their learnt lessons will be applied.

Will they lose or will they win,

Their day will answer all their queries.

 

Stepping out of a gloom and entering another,

It’ll be easy to forget which one was worst.

Juggling a lot each time will be the thing,

Till their days won’t be over.

 

I’ll watch them go, there they will be,

I’ll secure my wants for another life to come.

I’ll go once, a shot in the air,

Never to reach back, never to fear.

Advertisements

Stay Home

Don’t you move, neither a bit,

It’s hot outside and it’ll hurt you bad.

So dear are you to me, chirping and eating together,

All life, all places, all eyes are you and me.

Pile up the stairs with poison,

On the floor should no concrete be left.

Hide all the blessings presbyter gave you,

Somewhere else should you be resting in peace.

That’s a moving car displaced in space,

Need not you care shall you be stationary.

Stay calm, silent and reverb in the past,

That’s what will drive you from all your misery.

They call you free, close-ended motionless body,

Let them know you think what they don’t.

And let them be mad about what you do,

Because work alone won’t fix what you want to.

Care not you what seasons come,

Hilarious they are, some falling leaves, ice on a mountain.

What careers there are, people to fall for,

Some dreaded corner of the world, some disguised serenity.

I go and you stay home,

Should you obey what these walls tell you to do,

These pathways leading you to bedrooms are heaven’s,

Keep them enchanted and let no complain come.

The Good Thought

It’s a good place to be, a bed,

Cozy, safe, away from the world, closer to heart.

Leaving all the sense people make,

Leave it all on the pillow and blanket.

Pick up a screen and skim through places,

Pristine, supreme, rough or dry.

Oh! Wee-wee what’s she upto?
Another guy and another dress she’s draped in!

Look, hear and believe what they say,

Willing to continue as long are you.

Letting to lead you some pixels, some sound waves,

Coming from a device so dear to you.

Well, here it’s a cakewalk, easy and calm,

Breathing before you die is necessary as it is.

Yet use it for what you please, your every right to be,

All that it is after all what you wanted to be!

Hours go by and the room becomes alive,

Littering some wise words when the silence takes the side.

When did this happen, why would you do,

Does that really mean a world to you?

Not less than a day has elapsed, your mind is hungry,

Tired and relieved at the same time, it needed to dream.

A day or two to get a few more hours,

We’ll begin when there’s another new game lost.

Tik Tok

I’ve seen the clock struck the same hour every day. Saying it’s tickling all round the degrees and coming back and forth.

It creates a magical sound. Something like ‘Tik-Tok” or “Click-click”. It depicts the time is moving. Someone’s taking a birth, someone’s dying. Explain the process of getting closer to the happenings in the world every passing second, you can’t! We’re not supposed to.

So, even if it clocks not moving, time departure is not being depicted, or you’re careless enough to forget about time, time’s still on the move. Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok, can you hear it? No? Maybe you need to.

Tell me, how’s your life. That you can.

Walk of Life

A little about the walk of life will be told,

The scent of which is inherent in all,

Wherever will be the sound of the music,

You will paddle through waves like a moment ago.

 

Well touched and written about it are books,

Often what seen and felt is never forgotten,

And set inside the travelling heart of all,

Are values, gifts and laughs all round the horizon.

 

One peels off the bad lucrative chin of thoughts,

Lands in the dustbin of forgotten memories,

There where no side is taken, none borrowed,

Lies the sight of God in its full glimmer.

 

Look back don’t you, pass over the present,

Like a clean, shiny mirror speaking nothing but truth,

That one won’t die without a word in the mind,

Of chances there aren’t to forget their’s.

 

So drunken in silence I’m today, out loud my ears heard,

I can’t let go off my veil before the shine of tomorrow,

I rest calm on my bed journeying around the world,

So damn is the challenge, takes nothing but me after all.

 

To the walk of life, I stay stiff still sleeping in the noon,

Watching and crying over elasped moons,

To the age of wisdom, bold and powerful,

I arrest my attitude, laid back and laggard.

To where I scrupled before attending a thought,

So bleak in diffusion and slow to arrange,

Wild ideas, opinions and life of mine’s,

But here in stays slowly to create a sense of change!

Imagination

When asked to draw a picture of a farmer ploughing his field in the dawn with fresh drops of sweat making it’s presence felt, and his sickle making the sand dance, my thoughts sickened to an end before I began thinking if imagination is more important than knowledge. What if I don’t know what a sickle looks like, for instance?

So drunk in darkness are we today, if a candle of bright thoughts sneak our brains, we stare away from the intensity of newness that has entered. Nobody wishes to hear the rhythm that life brings about. Nobody wishes to dance away all the bitterness that ponds amongst the banks of negligence. We don’t wish to step, even make a positive call. Lack of imagination takes over as a protagonist of a willfully meaningless story.

When the groups are assembled to practice an ambition, is it a legitimate preposition to approve of the inaccuracy of group to attain a certain goal by being the sole doer? Why fit in when you are born stand out! Imagine the doers in the world…. Do you have any knowledge about them?

Clearly one could sense there’s a serious foulness at play, but you walk in and out as you please. Imagine the level of courtesy the group members possess that they tolerate you as one of their own!

Why need to imagine the distinction of thoughts that I have brought together in this piece of writing if it’s already there in it’s truest form. One must not shy away form stitching these thoughts as all are entitled under one idea: imagination.

Imagine some more meaningless thoughts beyond this full stop.

An Evening Tryst With a Stranger

I had promised this disguised soul I won’t forget that discussion last evening. I’m here to get unapproved of me being a forgetful person, again!

I won’t much dive into the details into what made me talk to a stranger in a country where people are already in abundance but no one actually to share to, I will not be interpreting the event in any way possible. I would term that “person” as “she” for now.

So, last evening it was sun bidding adieu as it usually does, and it was certainly a time for recreation. For a deep sleeper like me, Internet is always an eye opener. So, Internet! There’s a website that offers login without identifying yourself and you could share with strangers around the world without getting known. Cool! So, my laptop was assigned to get this job done.

She was the first one to begin with a casual Hi! I replied with an ignorant Heya, while sliding my thumb along the social media on my phone on the other hand. To my utter surprise, she asked, ” Have you ever been in true love?” I decided to put an end to this convo. But something stopped me. It was to no obligation that I’ve to reply to that. But I did, in positive annotation.

I would easily make out that she was so keen to know with her number of question marks on several following questions. I answered them as adequately and carefully as possible. A evening feast of replies, better given than taken! At one or the other take she could easily make out that I was lying. Lying she declared was unnecessary. Her “maybes” and “maybe nots” were enough to make me realise she won’t open herself but make me spit my words out as easily as I was already spitting.

When asked about her age, she replied, “Anybody between 10 years and 80 years, you can put me wherever you want to be.” Pretty unconventional, for me at least! Her purpose to inquire me was uncertain and all I could I understand was she wanted to solve some problem of her and that she wanted to know what “boys of my age feel about the most divine thing in the whole world, love”.

Out of her dominance in the conversation she instructed me to love unconditionally and accusing me of pondering more than I should. A message has been delivered and took a note of it.

She had bet I won’t forget this conversation but I admit I got a dreamy sleep afterwards. It’s a waste of time. But lesson learnt. What I had I actually got to do, anyway?