Sunday, 23 December 2012


Image credits free and
This christmas
A war soldier
trapped in the deserts of an alien country
Wishes to return, to his family

Amidst the perennial drone attacks
murdering hundreds of children, once alive
A worried mother, every other night
Wishes for the survival of her child

A little girl
on the outskirts of balochistan
Wishes to roam free
on the land with no boundary
where the values of liberty and justice, stands tall
where education, is free for all

A beggar on the chilly street.
Faces cold nights which he cant beat
He watches through the window as the stocking were being set
He wishes for nothing, but a bread and a warm blanket

This christmas
as the ray of hope flickers in the sky
and birds of peace flew
an oblivious writer,
looks up and wishes
for their wishes to come true...

Shared with Poets unitedcarryontuesday and dverse.

Sunday, 16 December 2012

She waits for a storm

She waits for a storm
A storm which will bring down 
the edifices of patriarchy
and reduce them to dust.

Storm of warm winds, healing
and demanding an answer
for the wounds and the taunts
for the memories that haunts'
for the pain inflicted
physically and psychologically.
segregation and discrimination she faced
for being different biologically.
equality will prevail, female or male
As her eyes full of hope , from her home
She patiently waits for a storm

A storm that will empower her
and will blazen her fight.
As hot and vicious as the fire
which burnt her neighbour outside.
Era of dominance, it wont last when
Rape and dowry will become a thing of the past.

Slowiy and graduallly,her patience begins to wane
as the flag bearer of empowerment
began to falter from their promises.
She loses all her hope from the feminism
a movement,gravely suffers from elitism.
The cycle of same old renditions started long ago
and the world is the stage, but it has nothing new to show
she turns her head away from the window
from where she had waited.

She is frail but her will never died
Many forces she counters, as she concieves a girl child.
leaves her house, the society and the bondage
and feels free, like a lioness in the wild.
A path not easy, to make her ends meet
but she never stumbled walking on her frail legs.
she raises her child.

As her daughter starts to grow up,  now she walks to her school
with a heavy bag ,full of books.
Her mother realises that the seeds, ready to stir,
the world with a revolution, were always within her.

Now she watches her daughter silently
reading her textbook, sees the moment, that wont be long
she had been confident but never as sure of it before
and she waits for a storm..

Education is the key towards empowerment. originally written for poets united

Sunday, 9 December 2012

When I think of home

When i think of home, i think of place that we own
where the sense of familiarity is not yet gone.
Chirping of the bird and the ambience that i miss.
Where the wind welcomes me with hugs and a kiss.

A garden around the house, the flowers and the bee
House which echoes with the fairytales told to me
Where the Sunlight is warm and the winters chills my bone
When i think of home,I think of house that we own.

A place is called home when the I becomes WE
A place where I have lived with my family
Together we have faced our highs and lows
Place where we have shared our joy and sorrows.

A mind full of memories, ah they just wont end
Our neighbourhood still remembers my childhood pranks
I know there is a place when i will not feel alone
When i think of home, i think of place that we own.

(Our own house gives us much more satisfaction than any other house that we ever live in. House that we own is the one when i grew up which i call truly my home.

Shared with carry on tuesday and Poets united

Sunday, 2 December 2012

Ofcourse I am Insane

So after two months of assignments and semester exams, i am back on the blogosphere ready to write for blog a ton.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 34; the thirty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Of-Course, I'm insane"

A classic courtroom scene. Mr accused was seated in the wooden palisade.

"All rise" Usher echoed as Mr Judge took his executive chair. the court was ready for the proceedings.

"First case of the day"

Judge : What are the charges

Procecution : (a heavy sign)Mr Accused is charged of illegally occupying and hijacking an army truck, crashing the corridoor of the main post office building. Mr accused is charged of rash driving, running the army truck through the central park which resulted in uprooted trees, demolished benches and fountains. Mr accused then drove his truck onto the electricity poles which resulted in the blackout in 6 houses. Mr accused destroyed the underconstruction charity home before crashing the army truck into the city bank. 12 people suffered minor injuries and none were fatally wounded. rough estimation of public property loss will run into millions..

Judge : Mr accused, You dont look like a perfectly sane individual, Before assigning you a sentence for these offences, the court wshes to know about the circumstances that compelled you to do so.

Mr Accused seemed nonchalant was fiddling with a photograph half torn carrying last vestiges of sanity. Mr Accused looked innocously towards the judge perhaps not realising the gravity of the situation, he waved and said "Yo"

Judge : Mr Accused, why arent you paying attention? Are you insane?

Many questions were asked before and after he went on a rampage but no other question was as apt as this one. no other question was more worth answering than this trivial question or rather he only had the answer to this question. He took out that torn photograph from his pocket and started waving it.

Mr Accused : Hey judge look at this. people smiling gleefully
This is a photo of me and my family
A snapshot of the last christmas, which we spent together
yes, last, alas, something to cherish forever

This my son, a soldier on the taliban hunt
was brave and valient, serving on the pakistan front
He fought the climate, the flood and the sand
Hauled criminals, shot terrorists but was captured in the end.

But your nation hasnt paid any heed at all
he is in their cells, beaten and mauled
Is this how you treat a soldier who fought for you all
Is this the way you answer, a soldiers desperate call ?

But i felt helpless had nothing but my wife
seems like the happiness has been ripped out of my life
Dreams of him languishing doesnt let me sleep on my bed
I no longer pray for his life, he is better off dead.

While me and my wife were dealing with this pain
Our misfortunes struck us, once again
Time when my wifes cancer began to draw attention
Government decided to withhold my pension

I pleaded at the office, they showed me the writ
Government is liable to cut pensions, when its in deficit
I lost my house, my saving but i wasnt alone, i knew
All i had was my wife but eventually i lost her too.

Your nation is in deficit, deficit of faith and trust
From the citizens like me, system has filled me with disgust
Witnessing all this, it was difficult to keep my sense intact
yeah Ofcourse i am insane and thats the fact..

Judge : Mr Accused, you have very well presented your case. after analysing the circumstances, i instruct government to send you to the asylum for 6 months for a careful study. In the meanwhile i will write to the government to install a new branch of asylums dealing with system driven insane individuals.....

(Bang) Next case.....

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 05

Sunday, 7 October 2012

An Untold Story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

It was a bright sunny day in Kabul and people were moving in and out from the Lagua international airport. People from various parts of the country could be noticed, many tourists from the US and the UK and other countries were prominently identified and distinguished. Sharib too was misrepresented as a tourist.
Sharib a fair, tall medium build gentlemen was among them. His rayban sunglasses were shining in the shady indoors. His muscular build was embellished by the Armani suit and Lee jeans. His hard leather shoes amplified his presence in the airport. Local educated folks have already branded him  as the product of Globalisation

He infact was the product of globalisation..

After depositing his luggage, He moved towards the first level of security. He kept his cell phone, metal belt , wallet and his pen in the basket to go for a separate scrutiny. After getting through with the first tier of security check he went to the immigration counter to get his visa,tickets and passport verified. "Good day Mr Shane,  The US airbus will be leaving in half and hour, have a safe journey" "Thank you " Sharib returned the greeting with the smile.

" Passengers of the US airbus kindly move towards terminal 5" An announcement was made for all the passengers of the US airbus. Sharib kept aside his newspaper and rushed to join the queue. In a hurry, he collided with the janitor and accidently dropped his pen which he rendered with reverence."Aah sir soory, heeere iz your pen" said the janitor in the crude afgani accent. " Ahh thank you" Sharib said grasping for breath and converged towards the queue. While moving, he looked back towards the janitor and threw a wink. The janitor smiled.

Maqbool has never looked more cute in his life.

Sharib moved towards the second security check which was not as rigorous as the first one and basically was a formal frisking cum ticket check. The passengers for the US Airbus waited for the bus which would carry them to the plane. After two minutes, the scheduled  bus arrived. Sharib noticed the bus number and took a heave of relief.

"Shahyara, you are genius" He muttered in his mind.

Sharib took the predetermined seat 34 and quietly grabbed the inkpot placed under the seat. he hid that in his suit. The bus reached the plane and the group of female airhostess greeted them and guided them to their respective seats. 
The plane picked up speed and the the Head airhostess intoduced their group. " Hello this is the maiden flight of the US airbus, we welcome you all to the maiden flight of this airbus. I am the chief airhostess Alena. She is Mayne, Shayara, Megha and Jane, kindlyput on your seat belts. The temperature is 34*c , a liitle turbulance and we are expected to reach New orleans by 2 :30 pm friday. 

Sharib ignored the rest of their ranting and decided to take a nap. he had many sleepless nights before last night. Afternoon nap is always refreshing, he thought.
His nap, took him back to his childhood. His hometown Daslan, a village near baglan. Memories started dancing in his mind.

" Ammi, you work somuch hard each day and still they dont pay you enough, You have burned your hands in their mines, why ammi?"

His ammi a young, emaciated women was employed in the coal mine of a fat American whose aim was to supply coal to the steel factory and earn profits. exploitation became his second name, Poor workers worked under terrible conditions, were paid paltry sum after the long hours of drudgery. His ammi, despite being a women, struggled for her kids. Sharib used to work in the tea stall but their income were sufficient to sustain the family of  4 people. A year later both of his brothers died of malnutrition and his mother suffered a heartstroke. She narrowly escaped death. These incidents were enough to open his eyes and make him realise,something wrong is happening. 

He barged into the room of the american and demanded explaination. The american laughed and decided to teach him few basic concepts of economics. He started " You see you filthy ragamuffin, the system we are living in is capitalist system. Rich people like us, rich nations like us will dominate you, will exploit you, will rob you. we will prosper and you will starve. got it kid. This is the system. now you either work or languish till death just like your brothers."
" Throw him out," the american signalled the guard standing outside and Sharib was thrown out of the office

His mother was weak yet she was compelled to work,as the rising debt was taking its toll. His mother collapsed on the very next day and was taken to the private hospital opened in place of the primitive locals owned hospital. The government has allowed foreign investers to invest in infrastructure, as a result, locals owned hospitals got wiped off from the place.
The private hospital refused to admit her. Sharib pleaded, begged but no one listened.
Sharib hurridly rushed to the american who was walking down to his underground office.
He blocked his path, and begged "Huzur, please give me some money, i need it for my mother, she is in the hospital, she needs treatment" 
"Hush, shoo you flithy vermin" berated american
"Huzur please, beat me, abuse me but please give me something"
"Die u lowbreeds" and he kicked the ribs of sharib and pushed him aside. Sharib sat down and started crying.
An old man was observing this scene from a distance.

He approached Sharib " Son are you going to cry or do something"
Sharib rose to his senses. He saw american walking down the staircase. He ran and pushed the american down with full force. The american came tumbling down from the stairs to the solid ground.
" That Har... Used to to talk of systems, now i will push down that system too that system will come down crashing just like this fat american.

His eyes were filled with retribution, flames of hatred fuelled by unexhaustive flow of grief..

Rehman bhai smiled...
" Uncle uncle, can you hand me my bag" A little american girl approached him. He woke up from his nap rather abruptly which scared the little girl but his smile of reassurance reassured the girl. He picked up her bag and gave it to her. He was mesimerised by her shining eyes, a cute smile. He gave her a choclate which he bought from the airport. He felt sorry for her but alas. He had to do what he needed to do.

He went to the bathroom, picked up the gasmask from the flush chamber and gently instilled the ink into the pen. He came out of the bathroom.

" Everyone present here good morning, oops sorry bad morning for all of you. I hope you all have had the time of your lives because you wont be having any more moments left with you. Soon you all be dead from this poisonous gas. My pen had the chemical which began reacting with the ink which i have with me. Once i open this cap, the oxygen will reach to the compound and bam... Hahahaha"

The passengers were terrorised, there was clamour and commotion, women were weeping, men were terrified. Airhostess were knocked out cold. All this commotion and pandemonium, Sharib found it amusing
" Why are you trying to kill us all? What wrong have we done? Please spare us" all these questions were thrown to sharib. " Silence everyone, I never had grudge with anybody in this plane nor am i a psyco killer. Here is the little sacrifice which will shake the world system, enlighten the world about the repecussion of neoimperialism. This system will produce many like us and so this is just a small step towards change"

" what change will you bring by killing us all. I am a doctor, its a noble profession, i have healed umpteen patients in my life, what wrong have i done? Why kill the innocent?

" Hahaha nice to know that you are doctor moron, you know what, my mother suffered a stroke and i admitted her in the hospital owned by some american. Doctors refused to treat her, i arranged money from rehman bhai and when i reached there, my mother was lying on the road. LIFELESS! !!"

" Are you going to kill these little children too?, what wrong have they done.? My daughter whom you liked so much will die in any moment. Are you human?"

' Sorry mam but your daughter will have to die too, she is the offspring of this capitalist system, she will grow and become the same exploiter. Its imperative to exterminate children. Maybe the next generation might remember and may turn out somewhat ummm, better, umm nevermind."

"So the bottomline is a little shock can bring down regimes, USSR collapsed by the economic and cultural shock, maybe USA will learn somelesson from the shock which i am goning to give to its citizens"

" Wait, you dont have to do this" said an old man hiding beneath his chair. " I am a journalist at CNN and will publish your story"
" Sorry dude, i will rather have it UNTOLD."

He opens the cap of the pen and the green smoke engulfed the cabinet gently and slowing soaking the life out from old and young alike. Every living creature present now sleeps for eternity as deathgods have their feast.

"Here at CNN live we present you the true story of the monster who caused annaihation of the innocent. Shane Costron aka Sharib was involved in many bloody terrorism acts. A monster from birth. Watch the list of his sinister plans on our show TRUE STORY"

"True Story buh" uttered rehman bhai in the tone of dismissal, " They will never know the true story" he turned off television set and went outdoors to offer a breadloaf to the little boy standing outside his gate.

His eyes were filled with retribution, flames of hatred fuelled by unexhaustive flow of grief..

Rehman bhai smiled..


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 03

Sunday, 30 September 2012

Money doesnt grow on the tree

Money doesnt grow on the tree
says my mom, refusing my pocket money
our expenditures are getting higher
you have to curb your desire
As she left for shopping, not more can i agree
the fact that money doesnt grow on the tree

Money doesnt grow on the tree
says our college department calculating my fee
we had a limited budget, we can grant only few
scholarships are meant for the poor, not intelligent ones like you
so keep calm if you want a degree
you know money doesnt grow on the tree

Money doesnt grow on the tree
says my boss, on increasing my salary
your salary is just fine
so now do your work, dont whine
our company cant go on a bonus spree
as you see money doesnt grow on the tree

Money doesnt grow on the tree
says the pension officer, sipping his tea
you dont look old rather you look fit
you must be aware our country is in deficit
I have a lot of work to do so excuse me please
unfortunately money doesnt grow on the tree

Money doesnt grow on trees
I am sick and tired of hearing all these
our economy just sank
our wealth, went to the, swiss bank
Our pm said this with such an ease
that money doesnt grow on trees.

Sunday, 23 September 2012



Losing my identity

Is acquiring of my self


Shared with Haiku heights

Saturday, 22 September 2012


World is indeed a beautiful place. But this cover of beauty hides appaling realities, realities which changes conceptions, realities which create panic, destroy youth and begets monsters.
photocredits - filmarchives96

Rifle in their hands
grenades on uniform
eyes on the mission

Undying social stigma
With religion and poverty
Lies dead humanity

Baked in hatred
Scarred and demented mind
Vengeful spirit

A Killing machine
Terrorised world watches
birth of a monster.

Shared with Haiku heights

Saturday, 8 September 2012


Modernity has influenced our lives in many ways. Maybe our values and virtues too.

Image credits -

Selfless care and love
Years of drudgery for petty whims
Easily forgotton?

Their poor old parents
Weeded out by modern family
rendered helpless

Thursday, 6 September 2012

Milky Way

Milky way, our galaxy harbours many cosmic entities and numerous solar systems. All share a kinlike relationship with each other.
Image crdit -
A spiral galaxy
Abode of stars and planets
Living as family

Tuesday, 4 September 2012


The Moon has always been a symbol of hope. After the darkest of nights, Full moon shines again..

image credits - Google Images
A Celestial body
Revolving around the earth
In orbital space

When the sun retires
Lost travellers in the night
are guided by the moonlight

In the darkest hour
A silver radiance of hope
Dispels dispair mist.

Sunday, 2 September 2012

Strangers in the Night

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31; the thirty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night'

A dark february night and i was walking briskly on the lonely streets. A february night couldnt be more chilly when its 10 pm in the night and you have very well crossed your deadline set up by your parents.

What was driving me crazy was a missed call by my dad which infact happens on the rarest of rare occasions. I had no sense of the time as i was enjoying merrily in the fest of the LSR college. I hurridly rushed to the nearest metro station and boarded the standing metro at the station which was set for central secretariat.

At central secretariat i needed to change for the yellow line. presumly the last metro was waiting there and i wasted no time in reserving my seat which was not difficult as the metro was relatively less crowded at that moment of time. As the metro doors began to close, a girl hurridly rushed in. she was panting and after a while grabbed her seat opposite to mine.

That girl, She was wearing a dark tight dress, had few crimson locks in her lush dark hair. Her eyes were full of anxiety but were deep enough to kindle any poets imaginations. Ofcourse she had kindled mine and i couldn't resist looking at her, staring at her, compelling me to drown in her profound enchantment. she slided her crimson locks over here ears and looked at me.

Caught offguard, i looked at the other side.

"Hey are you from Apeejay school?"  She fired a question at me
" Hi Neha" i launched the reply.
" umm well its Nihita"  she said.
"oops, sorry"  I answered sheepishly

" Never mind, anyway glad to meet you" she said with a smile and came to sit near me. I could sense her presence giving me goosebumps.
" Same here, So how are you? And by the way in which college have you taken admission?" I asked
" I have taken admission in JMC, today was their fest so i got quite late in that stuff. what are you doin here at this moment?"
I tried to evade this question but couldnt escape her questioning eyes.

" I attended the LSR fest today" 
" Well thats nice" she said with the smile, the smile covered some secrets, some anxiety and i wanted to uncover that.

" Howz ur College goin? " I asked.

she hesitated for a while and said " well not so good," Seriousness wrinkled on her face silently ebbing her smile. " Since you are from my school, i can discuss about that with you. I am not sure whether i could continue with my subject. I liked it initially but now i am finding hard to score in this. I didnt get good marks in the semester exam. I am in a serious doubt whether i have made a right choice about my future. Oh God, what shall i do now" she sunk her head into her hands.

" If you believe me, you were one of the most brillant minds i have ever come across. Initially in my 12th i couldnt score well in my economics despite having interest in it. I took a deep breath and restarted my effort, cracked the basic of the subject. as a result, i scored 95 in my boards. This was your dream, your passion. The spark needed is clearly visible in your eyes. Just dont give up. Wait, analyse your shortcomings, work on your strenghts listen to your heart and the most important of all, Have faith because we all had that on you." 

I could seen her smile reinventing itself on her face, a true one which lighted my heart, a spark in her eyes which captured me once again in its grasp and i kept on looking at her till

"Hauz Khas station, Mind the gap" the lady announcer announced. I stood up and spoke

"Well i have to take a leave now and by the way, I am not from Apeejay school"

She was shocked and speechless "Then whaaai"
"It was fun talking to you" i interrupted " Best of luck and good bye Nihita"

She paused, her smile grew once again "Same here, Thank you and good bye!!!.. Stranger"
I gave a loud chuckle.

* * * * *

As the doors of the metro closed after me, I turned to see her shaking her head on her stupidy, but i knew she had not commited one.

Nihita Mathur, class topper, a prolific debator. Sober and humble. A member of the prefectorial board. My junior.
I had a secret crush on her but my heart knows it was much more than that. I always wanted to talk to her, befriend her and tell her what my heart thinks for her but was never able to muster that confidence. When i got to know that she had a boyfriend, i concentrated hard on my studies, stopped thinking about her. Eventually they had a breakup after their board exams. I hoped that we could meet someday somehow,sometime soon maybe as the "strangers in the night", Today was the day...

My legs worked on their own as my brain had become saturated with these memories. Suddenly my mobile sprang to life waking me from the trance. I answered it, it was mom.

" Beta where are you? Its 10:45 and your dad is really upset."

"Coming mom, on my way" i answered

I gave a sigh as i mounted on my bike and saw the mist dissolve into the thin atmosphere amidst the blinding lights.

I couldnt resist a reminisent smile.....
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 02

Sunday, 26 August 2012


Initially i thought i would write something funny on coal like this..
   coal coal coal, you are so funny
   why are you digging a hole in our economy?

There are some hidden realities, some cruel and dark facts associated with the black gold. Even darker than the coal.

photo credits- energy4me

A poor family of two, lived alone on the hill
Had nothing with them except a land to till
A ray of hope for an old woman and her son
was this land they had, for cultivation.

His sweat dripped profusely, As the sun took its toll
His spade struck a stone, no it was the coal.
Hastily he rushed to his mother "Ma, our fate, now we own
i discovered coal here, our dark days are gone"

This joy was transient as his land got sacked
when the chief mining officer of the state, came to inspect
"we are taking 70% of this land, the coal here is the best
if you want to know why, its for the national intrest"

Government took its share,left a meager plot in his hand
"Dont worry" said the mother," we still have our land"
"but ma what can be sown on this land so small?"
"Son,its still better than having nothing at all"

Government captured 70%, rest was usurped by goons
He retaliated, got beaten and succumbed to his wounds
Mother and her son got nothing but a tragic aftermath
Coal meant to bring prosperity, just brought death.

Lonely old woman, her chulha has stopped breathing smoke
the foul smell of the coke around now makes her choke
She will keep on burning from inside, till she is dead
From the fire of this coal, Painted red.

Tuesday, 14 August 2012


image from- google images
Soul, a formless form
present in all living beings
source of profound peace.

Force indestructable
eternal, all prevading
unborn and undead.

A body perishes.
soul moves on and verily
accepts a new body.

As humans discard
Their old and wornout clothes
and buys a new one.

This idea of soul and definition is provided in the holy book of Hinduism, The bhagvadgita. Chapter 2 verse 17 - 25.

linked with -Haiku heights

Saturday, 11 August 2012

World Free of Nuclear Weapons.

This 9 Aug marked the 67th anniversary of the atomic blast in Nagasaki. This calamity had many dire consequences but most importantly posed a greater question in front of the world order. Is humanity safe with these nuclear weapons around ? When nuclear weapons have become an integral component of nearly every nations arsenal?

A must read article that i came across.
Here is the link 

.A man witnessed two nuclear explosions

photo credits.-

Enough was the bloodshed, enough were the wars.
Enough of the testing how much can the earth endure?
Enough of the threat that pertains near by
Enough of these red rivers and sooty sky.

So let's all come and live together as one.
Let's make this world free of nuclear weapon.

Impact of the nuclear weapons was felt worldwide.
When the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki with their heart out, cried.
Humanity was pushed to the edge by their discovery.
Damage done to the cities was beyond any recovery.
So let's amass happiness not bombs, in tons.
Let's make this world free of nuclear weapons.

Millions of people were wiped with an explosion
All that the world witnessed was a mass human erosion.
Hiroshima and Nagasaki blew up with a hubble
"Little boy" and "Fat man" turned vivacious cities into rubble.

Generations of survivors still carry the pain.
View of destruction haunts them again and again.
Only way out of this peril is to renounce war.
Living with peace is only way to be secure.

 So lets learn together to live under the sun.
Let's make this world free of nuclear weapon.

Visualizing their impact, we should also reduce their threats
This will happen only if countries remove their nuclear warheads.
Nuclear power shouldn't be just used to fight.
By tapping it, a millions homes we can light.

If  the Incident of Hiroshima and Nagasaki has taught us a lesson
Then let's make this world free of nuclear weapon.       

Monday, 6 August 2012


Stars too have a life span, but a star, the creator of the light remains immortal beyond the scope of this word itself.

photo credits
Giant bodies of gas
shining brightly at a distance

Sun, our nearest star
preserver and sustainer
of all living beings

Begetters of light
Immortal than immortal
Very brief lifespan.

written for - Haiku heights

Saturday, 4 August 2012

Today Never Goes

It was a normal day and i was busy pasting posters across the campus to invite people to join my society. The poster mentioned TODAY as the day on which auditions were to be held. I pondered and realised what if people read this poster the next day, or what if this poster stated Tomorrow instead of Today, the people might have never come. Everyday is a today and once we determine to complete our tasks today itself. Its never gonna be too late for anything.

photo credits- google images.

Sunny, bright mornings or wet rainy days
The nature surprises us in many different ways
Whats gonna be today, nobody knows
Each day is today, the today never goes.

Pangs of anxiety, 3 words you wanna speak
to your beloved but you find yourself weak
Take a ring with you and a dress red as rose
Propose her today,The today never goes.

Slight misunderstandings, clear them right away
Best friends forever are always meant to stay
Dont let your ego turn your friends into foes
Apologise today, the today never goes.

There are times full of highs and lows
Nothing stays forever in time's ceaseless flow
Thank all those people who have molified your woes
Thank them today, the today never goes.

Life is short, dont sit idle and wait
do it now before it gets too late
Live your life to the fullest before the, curtain close
Live it all today because the today never goes...

Tuesday, 24 July 2012


A Blind girl has her own connotation and the meaning of light in her life. Her dreams and aspirations.

photo credits- hindustan times
Unending darkness
Captured in her eyes
devoid of vision

Brightness of the sunshine
Chromatic hues of the rainbow
Meaningless to her

Forest of darkness
where luminous dreams exist
Lightening her life.

Written for - Haiku heights

Sunday, 15 July 2012

For the First time

This post is all about how a teenager embraces the addiction of smoking and drugs. An addiction is a result of a FIRST Time after which there is no last time till the end time.

The Cigarette
he ignited to smoke
for the first time.
image credits- google images.
A drug dose
she willingly consumed
for the first time.
A journey
ended tragically
in its spring

A cold dad
couldn't control his tears
for the first time...

written for Haiku Height

Thursday, 12 July 2012

Polio Drops

Photo credits -Google Images

Drop by drop instilled
Slowly into an infants body
Vital Polio drops.
Written for Haiku Heights

Monday, 9 July 2012

A Widow

This is my first attempt at 55 fiction. I hope you readers like it.

Photo credits - thoughtcrafts sriks6711

An old widow, was in the company of pigeons
Chutki was running around, never to be caught
Bang, a gunfire.

A pigeon died
"Chutki" she cried.
Chutki, the most animated pigeon around,was in silence, bemoaning the death.

Chutki sunk her head into the widow's lap.
She caressed her head.

Apparently a widow met a widow.

Thursday, 5 July 2012


"Finally!" I exclaimed, my last paper got over. The most relaxing sensation i had in the last 4 months, the moment i waited for has finally arrived.

"Free at last" i said to my friend Nishant who wasnt much animated from this fact but yet i knew what he would be feeling..

" lets have a walk to the metro station", i said to him to which he agreed. On the way to the metro station, we talked and criticised many philosophical ideas.  how capitalism has led to the formation of a puppet state, how marx failed to understand characteristics ofprecolonial Indian economy and much more.

I cant help myself gloating on the fact that i have become a plenary philosopher myself.

Me and my friend boarded a less crowded metro. I grabbed my favorite seat and our conversation continued till the lady announcer announced the commencement of Kashmiri Gate metro station. My friend deboarded there..

As swarms of people gathered around me the cool ambience of metro car turned rather sardined and smelly. "gosh its hot and its Delhi" i muttered.

I dont know what dawned on me at that time
I took out my question paper and went through its contents again.." what the fish"
I had screwed my last answer..

"All is well,all is well. damn". These famous lines from an even more famous actor was turning futile for my heart was not such imbecile.
Now when everything fails.. God comes.. I started muttering gods name, starting from hanuman chalisa in the hope that hanumanji wud unscrew my last answer.
The metro lady announced Hauz Khas and i deboarded.

It was a sultry afternoon which can be best experienced after getting out from an air conditioned compartment..
"Damn" i remarked and quickly mounted on my bike. To vex me even more,there was a heavy traffic and a red light.
I haulted my bike, waited for the green signal and restarted  my chanting of hanuman chalisa..

In the meanwhile a ragamuffin, small kid aged 6 -7 yrs came towards me and asked for some money.

"shoo" i said " age jao" (go ahead).
A stubborn he was, stayed there.
Frustrated i berated him. " bheek kyu maangte ho?( why do you beg?) jaake kuch kaam karo,( do some labour) bekh mangana aachi baat nahi hai( begging is not cool)

Saying this, i resumed my prayers.

"Bhaiya" he said. "Humare pass kuch nahi hai" (we dont have anything) isliye hum bheek mangte hai.( thats why we beg)
"Sabkuch hote hoe bhi aap kyu mangte ho?"( despite having everything, why do you beg?)

As. I looked forward, the signal turned green.

"Moron" i muted and sped away..

Sunday, 1 July 2012


This post has been published by me as a part of the blog-a-ton ;the 29th edition of the online marathon of bloggers ; where we decide and we write. To be the part of the next edition, visit and start following blog-a-ton . The topic for this month is "TWO MINUTES"

He was a soldier, only this much is known
Sitting gloomy in the rough terrain, he looked at his phone
Pressing it in his hands, he cursed its battery
"Had it worked for two minutes, i would have called my family"

The bugle of the war rang, it was the time to fight
Two nations locked their horns, to show their might
This soldier too, marched into the battlefield
with the heart of a lion and guts of steel
Victory was near only one post remained
But a bullet pierced his heart, he met his end.

Hot as a furnace, a place so grum
"Open your eyes"
spoke a giant figure called Yam
"Your time is over, wecome to my kingdom"

The soldier's soul regained its calm.
"Sir please grant me two minutes to spare
I want to call my family,living out there."

"First of all, i will ring my wife
And say to her that she had been a love of my life.
Never, ever, to mourn my demise
Because i am a soldier, a martyr never dies.

I will be there for you, even the heaven agrees
Not in flesh and bones but in your pleasant memories
I will tell my son to study very hard
And become as brave as his dad once was.

I will tell my mom to be proud of me
Because death is every soldier's destiny
Not to drop a tear for me
And show the world, from where i inherited bravery."

Yam touched by his words
Said "yes i allow.
Your two minutes starts from now"

With a jerk, he woke from his sleep
He remembered the oath he has pledged to keep.
He was breathing again and this was the fact
His phone was in his hands, with its battery intact.

The very next second, he threw his phone away
He picked up his weapons and joined the fray.
Invincible he looked, blazing was his gun
The post was captured, the battle was won.

Blood rush stopped, his heart ceased to beat
His time was up, was time to retreat.
His body dropped dead, this was a curious case
He died once again,but with a smile on his face.

"Oh you fool"
thundered Yam
This is a case of treachery
I gave you two minutes.
And you choose to deceive me?"

"Sorry my lord, but as you can see,
My country was in the desperate need of me.
I have lived long, long enough for my family
I became a soldier to die for my country."

(This post earned a silver batom in this contest. )

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.