THE PITCH(ERR) OF LIFE

It's not just the Hanging garden, but a hanging land,
over the threaten sea, under a wet band,
No one knows where it will lead,
even no one knows what it will feed.

Victims, gossips, fears and scars,
devoid of emotion, truths or dares,
noises behind, loud and discrete,
Holding hand, to help or then cheat.

The flower they planted are all so dead,
as the water entered the wrong bed,
whom to be blamed for this unfruitful soil,
May it be ruined, but I can't forget the toil.

To restart all over again is no good strategy,
As all we know, it will end up with another elegy,
from the one who wrote about the pitch of life,
but audience cares of no land, but strives.

Book another land, and be another man,
immoral it sound, but nothing is banned,
of no choices, one has to choose one,
demise they call when you opt none.

The face and the base, all for chase,
the puppets so welcome the misty race,
where droplets, smoke, fines are all around,
High bass and heartbeats are the only sounds.

Takers to makers, all gathers around,
Lovers and love bites, lost and found,
Glories with glare, and glare of glories,
Inevitable and unfortunate, yet twin theories.

To apprehend the true meaning is by no strategy,
As all we know, it will end up with another elegy,
from the one who wrote about the pitch of life,
but audience cares of no land, but strives.

.
.
.
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To err is human talks of wasted strategies,
As all you know, it sounds like another elegy,
but who wrote about the pitch of life,
is sitting along to audience to enjoy each strive.

Pehli Baar Toh Nahi ..

Kaha kuchh roz pehle FB profile hatane ka socha tha,

par abb betuke waqt usse tatoolta rehta hu..

Kaha neend se toh jaese gehra naata tha,

par abb raato mein tukdo mein soota hu ..

Kaha Shayar apni shayari bhoole baitha tha,

Abb toh Excel sheet se bhi shayari nikaalta hu ..

Pehli baar toh nahi hai yeh,

par ishq ne phir chhua hai jaese ..

Kuchh saal pehle jo naasamjhi mein kiya karte the,

usse dohrane kaa ek naaya matlab de raha hu ..

Mobile ki har vibration teri jhalak saamne laati hai,

par abhi toh number exchange karne k intzaar mein hu ..

Kaha khud ki pics se obsessed rehta tha,

par abb teri pics ko background score sang nihaarta hu ..

Pehli baar toh nahi hai yeh,

par ishq ki gali mein phir kadan pada hai jaese!

Bachpane ki aad mein ..

CCD, Pizza Hut k laayak toh hai hi hum,

par harkote mein aaj mein aakhri tokde ko ladte hai ..

Kitna bhi gannd dekh le raaton mein,

phir bhi Tom n Jerry pe marte hai ..

Gone with the Wind toh apne mein hai hi khaas,

phir bhi Tintin and Asterisk ko padhte hai ..

Bachpan toh gaya,

par bachpane ki aad mein,

halki masumiyat pe palte hai ..

Sehna toh din-b-din badhta jaa raha hai,

abb chocolate sang, Antiquity pe bhi chalte hai ..

Office mein khoob binbulai hasi ko rokte hai,

phir bhi thahaake akele mein hi nikalte hai ..

Itne bhi Nadaan nahi hai hum par,

sab samjhke bhi samjhaane waalo ko taraste hai ..

Bachpan toh gaya,

par bachpane ki aad mein,

abb badhappan se guftgu karte hai ..

Everything is Fine!

Over rated scars to tinge of joys,
broken hearts to yet preserved toys,
day to day, and time to time,
It feels like everything is fine.

At home we shout for freedom,
and Singles with thoughts of boredom,
While nomads are still so homesick,
and couples are turning out of tricks.

Portion of oceans to lands of sand.
with no lock, no chord, none of the band,
to hold serenity throughout the life,
to dismay the inbuilt obscure strife.

With no range they travel so far,
desires we call, but liars we are,
it's merely adjustments we ask for,
and feels glad when they knock our door.

The door that welcome unwanted guests,
at times dies of holding lonely nests,
as the things we actually planned for us,
doesn't interest us of being auspicious.

Fuzzy relations to busy routines,
converging demands to diverging schemes,
day to day, and time to time,
It feels like everything is fine.

(National Poetry Day Special, 15 Oct 2011)

An open Love Letter

(Written at New Delhi station waitin room last night)

Though you never shown your love for me,

But it was indeed there.

And it went up with every passing day month and year.

Though I never realized; and even made you feel

Awkward while mentioning about you to others,

And finally one day I left you.

Though being together wasn’t even an available option,

But still it made me feel bad,

Yaa, probably not that bad.

You made me, my memories, all good and bad.

I was in you, may be happy or sad.

I laughed out loud with you, and yes, cried loud in you.

Then one day, that goes not so long back,

I left you, to start a new.

And today when I step to visit you again,

You are still the same to welcome me.

Which gives me the reason to spend my whole life,

With you and in you.

Though the time isn’t favoring this time,

But, you know my dear city,

Even the day isn’t that far. ;)

Bliss

Bliss it was to know you forgetting every known tricks,

bliss it was to know me, like you do, fearing no risk.

Bliss it was to play with your ears like no-one ever caressed,

bliss it was to tangle your hair like no-one ever dared.

Bliss it was to paint you on this large canvas,

bliss it was to gaze it for hours though shy i was.

Bliss it was to adore the mirror holding you,

bliss it was to feel that it made me jealous too.

Bliss is was when for the first time you voiced 'love you',

bliss it was when at times my silence was coupled by 'love you too'.

Of all bliss, known or unknown, I invites the sleepless nights to find the best,

and then I wake up to avoid injustice with the rest.

The denial

I am not ready to accept,

That I had lost you,

On the other side of story,

You are lost somewhere too.

My friends ask me to move on,

And try things that are new,

But whatever I get into,

It’s so much allied to you.

I work on my novel,

I wrote two more songs too,

I watch, I listen, and I sleep,

But nothing separates me from you.

I text throughout the day,

I hang out with my friends,

I gossip, I eat, and I play,

But the drilling of voids never end.

In the midst of your denial,

I am still holding you.

May be I pretend to move,

My stubborn heart is in love with you.

I know I am just twenty,

Life will feed me with more lovers,

But first love has its own craze,

For which I am ready to suffer.

So come back to me,

Forgetting your fake denial,

Let’s start a new story,

Push rest all into thirsty fire.

You take your own time,

I will take my own,

But make sure when we meet,

Time blend of its own.

My collar bones use to hurt you,

But now my shoulders are too stiff,

You can caress on these strong ones,

And sing our favorite lyrics.

I will be holding you even this time,

But now you will be free to move,

I changed my soul for you,

Can’t you decline your denial too..?