I turned back to see emptiness, But never believed my eyes, I kept laughing to avoid loneliness, But never believed they were lies, It was a promise made by her, It was a faith she would never go far,
Forgetting all and leaving all she dreamt, To a far away land away from us, Deafening all and breaking all she went, To a far away land, away from us, A land from where there’s no return way, A land where there no being living stay.
I describe the land as paradise after death, She described that land as imaginative place, I describe the land of lifeless living breath, But she described that land as empty space, None pointed who had that misconception, None there now to draw any conclusion.
Where are you my heart? I guess to seek the truth, To prove your proposal part, To prove you are a Sleuth, But you didn’t think about me, But you didn’t think where I will be.
I feel totally lost without you, I see black and white in a colourful hue, I can neither sleep nor dream alone, I need you to sit on the happy throne, Wherever you are, wherever you stand, I know my words reach you,bursting the tear gland.
Come back soon a hand awaits for you, I stand where you will get my view, A clear one for you and a blurred one for others, It’s my living body that only bothers, I will come soon to you if you don’t,in a bird flock, Please open the door if you hear “knock!knock!”.
I am a college student with enormous energy to talk and act. I was in class three when I first wrote a story although it lacked traces of reality. It consisted of my imagination and rhymes. My parents were oblivious to the fact that I can write poems and stories, as I am a very secretive person. It was during my 12th standard examination when one of the invigilators found me of my scribbling on my question paper, a piece pertaining to the incidents of the Examination Hall. Since it consisted of blatant, ugly truths of the prevailing scenario of the Hall, I was reported to the Principal and my parents were summoned. That was how for the first time my parents came to know that I have a knack towards writing. I was censured, but simultaneously the externals did pat my back. And that's where I was propagated to take my writing seriously. It was my seat of Inception to Revelation of my Being through poems. It was an inexpressible feeling where I was chided as well as praised by my Principal Sir. This is why I kept on writing what ever popped up in my mind and penned down my thoughts about my family, nature, parents, feelings and even animals. I am not a poet by birth but I am a poet by situation. I love to write poems as they are my best means of expression and my pen is my best comrade.
My beloved, The first time our eye’s met With our lives under the moon’s control And your curious lips went upon mine, My eye’s glimmered My beloved, The precious moments we composed together, The instants in which we felt
In three forms Two thirds; Still, Not to drink a drop, or two pots for bath. One-third in Coco cola bottle, One-third is in the Cleavage water, Then, we are throwing stones at the well, Waiting for the crow bath;