Humility

She does not know or care whether I am a saint. She won’t care if I am an atheist, a believer, a nihilist, a criminal, an emotional cheater, a patriot or a dictator. She won’t care if I am an adult or child. She does not know whether I deserve it. I, like many others, shamelessly went on to embrace her kindness.

She danced and danced all day, like no one was watching. She showered kisses of breeze every moment of the day and night. She showed me how to soothe the mighty hot into a serene twilight. She made me sleep into the lullaby.

Finally, She showed me what simplicity and humility was all about. She’s the Ocean. No, literally.. the Arabian Sea. Awesome trip to Goa it was.

Buzzkill

things are serene,
as long as you are you,
things are fine,
as long as you are pure.

a putiry coming from innerself,
gets spiked when you anticipate
a happy aura from the other shelf,
riddled with its own termite

and when it bites you,
damn a major buzzkill,
worse than waterboarding,
awakening you to a reality,
where every one look gory,
and you find no amusement
in the company of the innocents,
withdrawing away to yourself,
to get back to what you were,
an unquestionable individuality,
in its purest form,
manifesting into this sustainable
mother of all eternal emotions,
all praise and glory to... self-love.

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And the train doesn't halt,
world passing by unreachable,
i wave and it's not my fault,
if i don't see them waving back.

standing tall at the exit,
feeling the wind blowing into the face,
eyes closed, faint memories of hurt
happiness, epiphany, revolving

passing clouds, drenching rains,
nauseating hypocrisies, that weak innocence,
people cheating their own heart
for a moral sense defined by someone else.

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mirage

In the middle of the desert,
wandering around for a hope,
and distant mirages of hurt,
struggling hard to cope.

just a drop that's enough,
of all that ocean that's you,
to break this hand-cuff,
to liberate this soul, that's true

ticking away the ruthless time,
stealing away those cent and dime,
fiddling around for that lost rhyme,
rushing to catch that last chime.

the only thing that I ever knew,
snatched away before it brew
into something transcendental,
into something fundamental.

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Random...

I wanted to write a lot.
I'd rather do it at a later event independent of the current events troubling me, so that I can make it a little unbiased.
Meanwhile, I'd have to go through this thoughtful torment troubling me to reach a solid conclusion.

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