Brevity, Quill

TICK-TOCK

It hurts…….

Hurts where no one should touch me

As I turn to stone

And stare at the wall in my room

Grey and somber

And a clock ticks in my head

Waiting for it to be over.

Poetry, Quill

The Best ♥️

This wonderful mind of mine,

Every breath, and every blow,

Changes its direction,

Yet I know, my heart,

It shall keep it on its course,

And take away every single doubt,

For my heart heads for home,

And a family, a warm abode,

And all of this I found right where I am,

What else? Shall a heart need,

What else shall a mind need,

And what else? Dare I ask,

From this family of mine,

Where all the love I have,

In truth, is sublime.

Brevity, Quill

Hawk

Distant from the gigantic world, an island called humanity was living peacefully and alone.

But on that dark stormy night, a child named joy was born, soon to this counterpart, the evil hawk was drawn

Who in fear of losing his position snatched away all the smiles,

And threw them into the sea of plight.
A tale too little, yet toe large, A tale too blunt for the questions too sharp.

Poetry, Quill

चला हूँ खोजने आज

चला हूँ खोजने खुदको आज,
वहाँ जहाँ, गिरना सीखा था।
चला हूँ खोजने खुदको आज,
वहाँ जहाँ, हस्ते हुए फिसलना सीखा था।

जाने कब उठ खड़े होने की दौर में,
गिरने की एहमियत भूल गया।
जाने कब हस्ते हुए इक दूजे पर,
मुस्कुराना भूल गया।

चला हूँ जानने आज,
कब यह मान अभिमान बन गया।
चला हूँ जानने आज,
कब सियाह भी शौंक बन गया।

कभी न रुको सुन सोच कर,
मैं भी यह दौड़ दौड़ने लगा।
थका हारा अब बैठकर,
साँस लेने की कीमत सोचने लगा।

चला हूँ खोजने आज,
कब चलते चलते जीना भूल गया ।
चला हूँ खोजने आज,
कब मैं में मैं डूब गया।

Brevity, Quill

An Ode To Empty Road

At the dusk of a nameless town she walked the cold and empty boulevard.
Her wrinkles told tales of love and also that of a broken house.
Seasons went by she had lost her youth but the solitary road remained unchanged.
Perhaps the cold night and the lonely road was her most loyal companion.

Poetry, Quill

Sounds…

First one of our latest member… ANHAD

The clinking empty bottles
The chiming wind chimes
Slurping cold water
Watering scorched eyes
Gurgling gargles
Crackling crumbs
Vibrating phones
Numerous goose bumps
Trembling feet
Shivering bodies
Rustling leaves
Singing chickadees
Beating hearts
Tapping fingers
Shaking heads
Popping blisters
Licking
Grinding
Screaming
Biting
Dripping cream
Morbid dreams
Jingling bells
Shattering glass
Screeching class
Scratching nails
Clattering teeth
Rattling tails
Drilling beats
Honking cars
Hurling abuses
From afar
Guffawing uncles
Smiling ladies
Gorging on
Indian delicacies
Gossiping gals
Snoring pals
Smacking lips
Fish and chips
Drooling
Glaring
Ogling
Flaring
Rhythm divine
Making a line
Jumping
Dancing
Running
Bumping
The spectrum of sounds thrives
Can listening suffice?

Poetry, Quill

Mighty, but broken.

In the broken old land,

There once lived a man,

Glorious, and mighty was he,

Trees shook with his thunder,

Boulders broke beneath his fists,

And fear striked in every foreign heart,

Yet a lanky young dame,

Tore his gleeful heart apart,

And all that was left,

Was a broken little man,

Perfect for this old and treacherous land,

And he kept his heart still hidden inside,

Too afraid for it to touch the light,

And in darkness he spent away his life.

Quill, Write Ups

Extra Limits???

Ola!!! Sorry for the late post guys… But, extremely dissatisfied by the LIMITS, I write this.

So what are limits? Why are we ‘The Middle Class’ always the ones who are show the limits? Who creates them? Why do we accept them?

Everyone wants to excel in life. Every parent wants their kid to excel. Or more prominently wants their kid to be financially stable or shall I venture to use the word Rich. 

But if we ask ourselves, how much are we doing to actually excel? What are we doing to excel? Are (for the parents) you believing in your kid? Are you giving 4-5 hours daily to sit and practice?

Do you think above the LIMITS? The limits which present forth us the Rich and Successful as godly figures, but the moment we start to think as them order us not to. For we, we can’t dream as them, we can’t think as them… Oh really!!! Then how do we expect to live as them.

We have to give in extra for everything… Extra passion, extra motivation, extra effort to counter the quotas, extra knowledge and indeed extra believe in our goals, in our views and ourselves at large.  

So when do you plan to start giving your extra???

Poetry, Quill

Something

There is something in this silence!
It has an aura of its own.
There is something in this silence!
It can make you laugh and make you sob,
It gets you when you’re alone.

There is something in this noise!
It has a rythm of its own.
There is something in this noise!
You can feel the partition,
It differentiates your soul from your bone.

Brevity, Quill

Suddenly

Suddenly this misery,

Red turned to brown,

Yellow turned blue,

Orange turned gray,

And purple turned black.

.

Suddenly this defeat,

Smile turned into cries,

Joy turned into ashes,

And love turned into myth.