In my dream!

Early dawn in my dreams I transformed into a colorful butterfly!
I flew around the earth,
Touching the wet sands,
The beautiful flowers,
The fresh leaves,
The tiny dews,
Which enthused me to fly high and high,
To feel the cool rise.

Wished I, be it the last dawn of my life!
Where I can die enjoying the bliss of the fly!

A sudden jolt woke me,
And before me was a human,
As pale as a dead being,
Preparing for the long struggle,
Awaiting him,
Where he has to take every stride through the thorny path,
Passing through the barren land,
With no green sand.
He tries to seek solace in the breeze that touches his face
Alas! It is too not human enough to give him the peace.
I wish I were still in my dream!
Where my days would always pass in glee!

A New Dawn!

Silence was all around,
Only a lone koyal was cooing in its eternal sound,
Welcoming the fresh ray of light,
That bless us with the might,
To enjoy our one more beautiful daybreak
Which is not fake!
The orange rays of the sun touched my face through the haze,
Giving me the motherly warmth from my maze.
Cool breeze embraced me,
And I hugged him with a green child’s glee.
The red rose near my window stood as bright as ever,
Yearning to get drenched in this ecstasy forever.
Cheerful was the butterfly that lingered here and there,
Adding color to the immense splendor that was felt everywhere.
Startled was I seeing His marvelous creation,
Which filled my heart with devotion.
I had always craved to be at HIS place,
Instead today he was here, leaving a smile on my face!

Am I a proud Indian?

I am proud to be born in this land of saints,
Now, where you will find nothing but taints.
I am proud to be born in this land of varied religions,
Now, where you will find nothing but faint pigeons.
I am proud to be born in this land of radicals, who made us free,
Now, where you will find nothing but people who try to tie us to the tree.
I am proud to be born in this land of history,
Now, which has become nothing but a mystery.
I am proud to be born in this land of democracy,
Now, where everything has become messy.
I am proud to be born in this land of great souls,
Now, which has nothing but political fouls.
I am proud to be born in this land of peace,
Now, where life has no choice but to cease.
Am I a proud Indian?

True Beauty

Nature is what all I wanted to write about,
Like the great Wordsworth did;
Never was or is I am successful in doing so.
The red rose in my neighborhood stands as pretty as ever,
But never was I able to appreciate it.
The petite sparrow keeps chirping on my window,
Trying to draw my attention,
But never once did I notice it.
The monster-like mountain stands tall outside my mother’s house,
But never did I appreciate the vast green patch on it,
That gives so much peace to ones heart.
The first drizzle every monsoon tries to seduce me with its cool touch
But never did I try to feel it.
The morning dewdrop on the green leaf tries to give me a fresh start,
But never did I try to enjoy this freshness.
Lost in the web of worldly desires,
I missed the naïve beauty of HIS creation,
But it’s never too late to enjoy the small wonders of life!
Why not now!

Loneliness

I was one among them,
But not with them.
They were all around me,
Falling on each other,
Talking to each other,
Some fighting with each other,
Some staring at each other.
But, I was there all alone,
Like the feeble handles,
Swinging back and forth,
I could hear them talk, fight, laugh,
But I couldn’t hear them.
I was as blank as the moon,
That was moving with me,
High up in the sky.
To my glee,
He moved on and on with me as my companion,
which made me feel safe and strong,
My heart ached to be with him till I cease,
But suddenly there was a halt,
And he vanished!
I was searching for him here and there,
But he had gone!
Leaving me behind,
All alone,
Among the swarm,
With no one,
But my loneliness!

Life

What is life? A wink of breath that we take every second
to reach our death.
Heaven is the living witness to it,
who sees us undergoing life and death.
He laughs at our futile search,
As he knows we are just the buffoons of the short comedy,
Who has to act per the scene given by HIM.
Here the dialogues, scenes, characters cannot be changed,
As it is already written on our forhead.
Only can we think of changing it when we reach our bed!