Udasi

aasuon ki khwaaish nahi thi hame
aasuon ke khwaaish mein hum the
unki haasi ki khwaaish thi hame
magar unke gham ki vajah hum the

baadalon se na poocho barasna kya hota hai
jab barse, toh khud bikar gaye
bina nazre milaaye woh chal diye
toh yahan hum bikar gaye

Victims

Eyes are curious to see a sign of trust compassion and respect
Leaving a world where nothing to expect
God daemon love death, seen it all
Travel land sea ruins desert, listening to an inner call
Hoping for life that makes the journey worthwhile
Hoping for a time to get back the lost smile

Let's

Days go days come, time spent time undone
Growing old growing wise, being selfish and a little nice
Organized life chaotic head, just thoughts no words until bed
Love is there need a little spark, maybe a boat like Noah's ark
Let's not just stare at the door, expect less and do more

September Rain

Wet in your love, drying his pain
you turned around a man who was insane
he cries with a smile, tears tasting sweet
pieces put together and made him complete

rain of tears have a story to tell
some are true others are to sell
afraid of sinking, have no worries
we'll sail on the rain water with a boat made of stories

1 + 1 = 3

In the pure heart of yours, there were dreams of love
dreams with wings that fly sky high
shaping of a man who will never make you cry

I feel lucky to be the one who gave form to that man
though with faults , chiseling myself to fit as far as I can
have patience my love , it's not too far as it seems
the man you love, will indeed be the man of your dreams

With all the love over these years, we have grown as strong as a tree
ready for the next step when we two become three.

Path

A brown narrow path cutting the green field into half, like the middle binding of the book, breaking and making a story at the same time, runs through into the woods. Sometimes straight, sometimes curvy representing its emotions at stages. People think that it will lead them somewhere. How humans trust a path more than their kins sometimes. Knowingly and unknowingly, they create and preserve the path, knowingly and unknowingly showing the right or the wrong direction. In rain, the path is muddy, water puddled in potholes, nuisance for adults, adventure of the littles. Narrow, wide, short, long, right, wrong are its familiar neighbors. Sometimes too many and sometimes all alone, sometimes has a partner too, some lucky paths. They will live till they are used, else nature will take back its righteous belonging, i.e a piece of land, and one scar less made by the humans.

Its time !!

Its time to know where to go
Its time to think, to float or sink
Its time face, to leave or embrace
Its time.

End to the crying, end to the stoop
End to the journey, of an endless loop
End to the happiness of being sad
End to the saneness of being mad
Its time.

Farewell to the friends as good as void
Farewell to the pleasures, that's better to avoid
Its time.