Category Archives: Attitude

Might is Right

An innocuous is quite objectionable
For living somehow in a forest-
Quite a haughty in whispering
In the ears of an innocent
‘’Might is right’’
And in showing its sharp nailed paws
And burning eyes to him
To turn his days into scary nights.
‘’Is he too stoic to be reformed ?’’
A philanthropist with a lamp in hand
Asks the mirror
But dies leaving the question unanswered
And the lamp extinguished.
In the darkness
A consequent narcotic solo
Reverberates in the forest,
Makes it drowsy
And bewitches the innocuous too
To produce breads, ladders, toys and others
For the heart-quaking wild whisperers.

I am not yours

I am not yours,
But you are mine;
Just because of you,
My future will shine;
You are awesome,
I am just fine;
I like your smile,
It’s like a desi wine;
I like your style,
When you give me a romantic sign;
If you ever hurt me,
Surely, I will die;
But remember, I am not yours,
But you are mine.

A Floating Body

It’s to be believed or not
But a human body is to be flown
Like a kite in the sky
Caused by the restlessness of brain
And its tumbling down to knee
Making head blank and weightless
And body light to float in the air
In quest of something more.
It may be the sign of abnormality
Yet eyes are indifferent to the symptoms-
Reflected from the wonderful kite-show
Exhibited in the open sky of hunger
Where all go as they like
As hands start beating their own drums
Guarding their own ears
From the invasion of others’ beating,
Feet run faster than the mind
To reach ‘’El-dorado’’- the golden dreamland
Trampling others’ feet,
Heart hides again and again
In the pools of the clouds
And makes itself more mysterious,
But the old soul looks thoughtful and disturbed
Before going for long hibernation
Wishing ’’safe flying’’ to the floating body.

Four Lines

Who could not walk on street without help of others
Can he climb stairs of heaven alone in last days?
When death of illusions hides in this last encounter
Whole life lived as taken for granted
Now it must be salvation or pilgrimage but whole
Screenplay diverts to childish creeping for reality
Amusing words setting in obscenity this may be recheck
Of alpha perhaps they have hidden secrets of life
No any judgement was satisfactory to prove this love
Whereabouts of hearts of both
Visera of face and lie detector fails
My whole services and worries to protect and upbring
All of this home as garden, collapsed now?
I thought my result would be different from others
Yet everything is same story as others then
Why should I, ashamed to tell others?
In fear I may lose my dignity, status
Then what
All they would dedicate me on my sad demise
What they feel when not between them in four lines
As others do in newspaper

Waiting Matters

Fast is man’s pace-
Rocketing beyond space,
Webbing across cyberspace:
Yet waiting has much relevance!

Mother Nature certainly is patient-
Trees have years inside seeds spent.
Buds wait for the proper moment
To blossom and waft their scent.

Eggs hatch on the precise date,
Feathers appear at the set gait;
Nestlings must but wait
To fly and for the season to mate.

Neither is birth fast or easy-
The womb must but carry
For the counted days the baby
Till the mother’s happy delivery.

It is after so many semesters
And studious, exam papers
Any university a degree confers.
Wait again for the job one prefers!

Queues are endless here and abroad-
Be it for the ration card or the green card,
Or for the green signal on the crowded road.
And the last wait is for life’s burden to unload.

What about me?

Brother got a cycle on
his birthday, me a doll.
He pushes me away from
the cycle, I can only ring
its bell and flee.

Grandma boils two eggs
every day, none for me.
Eggs are bad for girls she says,
they make them ferocious and male.
But my legs hurt
in the running race.

Two tickets for the cricket match.
Father declared brother
and he would go.

Brilliant my teachers said,
send her for higher studies.
Father rushed to the Astrologer.
My husband turned out the maid servant.

Father divided his property,
mine was given as dowry.
As books can’t do dishes,
they put me on to the street.
Brother looked the other way.
What about me?

Bad marks…

So beautiful eyes,
But still blind;
With gift of wild senses,
Yet no sense to mind.

Yes I gotta heart,
But comes with it, its ache;
Within me lies consciousness,
Yet it is not awake.

The same crossroads,
Again like before;
The same sadness,
Again the same heart sore.

My own blood suffocates me,
My own soul turns a blind eye;
In this battle of life,
I always ended up with a cold sigh.

I know I am talented,
But the world doesn’t agree;
All that which lies within me,
The world is not able to see.

I will prove my worth,
I will do something big;
To show off the treasure buried in me,
I need time to dig.

Luck hasn’t been my biggest strength,
Nor has god been very kind;
When it comes to scoring marks,
Unfortunately my stars have never shined.

But I haven’t given up,
Like you I still play under the sun;
I have survived the battles,
And I’ll win the war in the long run.

Don’t try to sympathize with me,
I still have self-respect;
I am good at everything but one,
And you need help in every aspect.

I have reached here despite obstacles,
I will go much further for sure;
It is you, who have got stuck,
It is you who need help and care.

The day I fell

As I was walking hurriedly in the rain
I tumbled falling to the road wet
I saw my reflection in a puddle
Not only did I see me
I saw my face in two halves
One good, the other bad
I felt ashamed over that other half
Further I changed my way
Walking at a cautious pace
Again I came across a puddle
My reflection in it I saw
This time I saw it changed
Thank Heavens earlier I fell!

Just one

The nation is one,
The foundation is one,
The religion is one,
The region is one.

The worshipper is one,
The monuments are one,
The mountain is one,
The rivers are one.

The theory is one,
The troubles are one,
The life is one,
What’s more???

The people are one.

Who is the giver – who is the receiver?

We take ceaselessly but cannot receive,
Who then can help us?
Neither the priests nor our degrees

We give ceaselessly refutes and niceties,
But nothing creative.
We can only buy and sell commodities

In our non-tangible non-things forever,
Such as hunger,
Who is the giver – who is the receiver?


I don’t believe in luck.
I don’t carry the foot of a rabbit,
Or the tooth of a woodchuck.
I refuse to accept that it
Controls my destiny.

By the laws of probability,
The longer your run of luck,
The lower the probability
Of it staying stuck;
And you come crashing down.

I don’t believe in fate.
It is an excuse for failure
That I absolutely hate.
My life’s like this, I’m sure,
Because I made it this way.

Your actions today
Decide what you are tomorrow.
I have one last thing to say:
If your life’s full of sorrow,
Do not weep, but seek to set things right.

That’s Life

One day an ant was walking down a lane,
When he came across a nice piece of grain,
Lifting it on such a hot day would be such a strain,
It was worth a try as there was nothing to lose and lot to gain,

“GO HOME! IT’S TOO HARD” all the onlookers would goad,
But he strained and he groaned to lift up his load,
he used all the strength his tiny body could afford,
All their discouragements he just ignored.

A lot of time this arduous job did take,
Every muscle in his body began to ache,
But our friend, his find was not ready to forsake,
With all his might he pushed and the grain began to shake.

He lifted the grain and carried it with pride,
And said with a grin big and wide,

Cool Legacy

Cool in prestige, power, politics
Quickies come handy
Easily to push or put away or out
Man or matters alike.
In quickies we all fall down
Like a house of playing cards.

Living in the Grayness

Living in the grayness
we rarely find
a darkest black or the purest white
to be the background of
the sprinkled gold or the pool of blue.
Somewhere in the marshiness
the memories and the desires lie.
The dancing network of light
playing the patterns of life
with its tangled nervous system
and tangible dreams.
The puffed clouds melt to form a rainbow.
Thoughts that remain stacked
one upon another
like those tissue papers arranged
in those packets at the hotels
to wipe off dirt, the evidence of what we ate up.
And to be thrown away.
Oh! The due bill!
And to be reminded of the due bill,
to hurry off, fumbling the inside of the purse.
Once in a way we look up
wondering at the whiteness of the clouds.


Since Tehelka I have a sense of hatred towards politics and
hence I am hereby writing about the same.

They have something new happening in their life,
Just as a man without wife,
So easy to sit on the chair,
But difficult to do everything fair,
Its groups like Tehelka that bring out the true fact,
Late though we found out this gruesome act,
No need of anymore proofs and discussion,
Its time to get ready for the real action,
Punishments and penalties are no less than escape,
It would be nice if govt. gives them a real close shave,
Ministers and leaders are just for name,
Revealing the ugly side of human face,
Greed and power is all that matters for them,
Sure something which we can’t be proud of them,
Wipe out such indecent and greedy people,
Say ninety million Indian people.