A posy of wildflowers...

Looking back from hovering over the past to dreaming about the future… planning the present… what the life would have been without you all… to what the life have become with you all…

How far we have walked from those lonely nights to those lovely fights… not particularly for wrong or right… but for the music in the song called love, on the reels of life.

Harder it is sometimes to believe in self… Harder it is sometimes to untrue what world says… Then comes your play, for all those illusions of events, to all those imaginary moments which comes eating up hopes… with all your presence it’s been slayed…

How different yet how same we are all… Not whole person that we connect to but a habit a way in a small… where memories are been blend with the events… those events of time with soda and fresh lime…

It's not for a year or a life this, what we have this, what we share have been there years and years of lifetime…

Wonder how we all meet… mysteriously everything got set… below the darkest sky of the night… were engaged in the brightest creativity of our life… The boxes of that hard yet soft mount boards, formed the bond that of a concrete wall.

We are together not to form the color combination of a masterly art, rather we all are perfectly skilled collage in the world of this imperfect canvas…

Mending the souls of this wounded society… where what’s wrong and what’s right is still a mystery… Living on our way would be sin, but how the way people lived around us destroyed their fins…

Fins… those fins which won't just swim but will take you to those clouds even without being loud… The one that’s for the pleasure… not the one which we comprehend but, the one from the desire that we send…

Bound by the rules and the victims of the virtues… succumb to this pseudo reality losing the art of living for the sake of vitality…

Delighted with the gifts of your presence… everything seems to be a present… Same places… same desire… where we lived on our terms with world set to fire…

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A Real Idol...

Among the darkest of the night, a land of one country will be brightest among other on the earth… no trace of moon… even this night belongs to the decedent of the sun… The lights, sweet, the songs, the music, the dance and the crackers are not for the lord, they are not even for a king, rather they are for a man… A man that of a character and a man of his words… From everything happens for a reason and that reason which we never see what to talk about learning from it… To understand this reason, we first have to understand what is the problem? The problem is God, the reaction, response and prejudice or the individual definition that we hold for this word… The moment we hear it, either we close our eyes and join our hands… or we are being scared of being roasted in the hell… or we want a ticket to heaven… but have we ever thought of what actually the meaning of God is… We travel so and so kilometers… to go to a temple… with flower, sweets and whatever we think can make our w...

To My Valantine....

If I could love you again, I would surely love you right… holding you tight after each fight…. Loosing you have made me realize that to my sky you were the only light… I am doing fine… learning, trying to walk along the straight line… I wish I could go back in the time and to make you wait and to make you mine… I could play my every single dime… I still remember the day when I first saw you… bright like the morning sunshine… our eyes locked, and everything was lost… at least even for that one moment it felt that you were mine… The days have melted into weeks and the weeks evaporated and formed the clouds of years… all what I hold is the same fear… we are not together as such… will we ever be “us.” No, not someone of your hue… not even someone like you… but even today in my every prayer I only ask for you… Not the one who finds me sweet… not the one who finds me cute. Not the one for whom I am good looking. Not the one who are only there for hooking up… but the one with ...

Who Killed An Actress...?

“Have a seat, the manager will be joining you in a minute.” A well trained, beautifully groomed, yet perfectly fake HR told her. The word manager, had accelerated her heartbeat… it felt more like “a Murderer.” She entered the conference room… it was as chill as the meat section of a supermarket… The manager came near the door, carrying a laptop computer in one hand and a holding his mobile phone in the other hand talking to someone. Her hands left the trace of sweat on the lemon green table. Pushing the glass door with his hips, the manager entered the room. She skipped her breath till the time he settled down… “Ten years I have been working in this company and four years as a manager never in my life I have come across an employee like you…” the manager said. “I feel shame for you” she thought. She was looking at her fingers while the manager kept on talking. The ring which her mother had asked her to wear… why? Because some pandit said “isse kaam mai man lagaege.” How her...

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