A story

Image source : www.sodahead.com

I was running into the woods
assuming a stranger in persuit of me  
'there was' , my intense heartbeat prompted , 'there was'
so did i believe and ran , ran for my life
for i did not want him to win and ruin my sanctity
so i ran , ran forsake , with no hint of sanguinity
I wanted to shout but my voice gave away
singultuns gave way to fear and fear to tears
the creepers below embroiled me
arresting me , acting at the stranger's behest
fighting with the little strength left , i hit it hard
with a moan it got its hands off
but the deed was done,the stranger was there
ready to pounce upon thee
prey i was to him , it seemed obvious
i drew back , reconciling myself behind the tree
the tree of hope , as it seemed to me
he came closer , so did fear
i closed my eyes for things were now clear
death was upon and i was his deer
lion i would call him for the fear he caused
praying the tree i snuggled to as i could remember no other Lord
a gentle touch revived my heartbeat
scared as i was,couldn't gather the courage to open my eyes
to see if the touch was real or just an assumption of my fear
'come on' , these gentle words touched my ears
my eyes opened to a handsome figure with steamy eyes
bringing me closer he said the fear was gone
inquisitive as i was , forced the word 'fear'
yes he said with a closer touch of the word dear
trailing off , he swept me off my feat
intimidated by his charm , my words found no way of coming out
the feeling of his touch was enough to make my heart bump
the moment ceased and bliss took over
i was in his arms under the shower of love
never wanting my life to take a curve

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"Who am i ?" | Life poetry

image source :www. livingsu.syr.edu

"Who am I ?"
Am I a little leaflet out of water
or a broken sword of a lost battle
a petite doll with impossible dreams
or a wounded bird fallen from a tree

"Who am i ?"
A lier with a false identity
or an aspirer,wanting to be somebody
what lies in my hidden sanctity ?
just my name or a compromise with destiny

"Who am i ?"
someone who loves to put down her words
follow her heart and appease her thirst
refusing to be judged on what to write
as i am the master of my soul and mind

"Who am i ?"
a citizen , lost hope in her unstable government
or an inspirer not minding getting drowned dans the torrent
to discover the lotus , an element of joy and tranquility
and to see my fellow men thriving and smiling

"Who am i ?"
a secret lover who could never find her love
or a die hard romantic who believes in the old proverb
"If he is yours , he will come back to you "
and i am still waiting with little hope of his return

"Who am i ?"
I have lost track of my identity
with dreams at my doorstop and no possible means
bound by heart-wrenching thoughts and dreams
I am pained by the unending turmoil and screams

I wonder 
"Who am i ?"

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Our future is at stake !

"Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven." . Childhood is a stage free of adulteration and mannerisms . But there are certain children who though regarded as children end up being termed as orphans . Few of these 'orphans' end up begging on the streets while few of them are adopted by Juvenile homes. My visit to such a Juvenile home changed my outlook towards the society . 

I was welcomed with innocent eyes , eyes which had been waiting for me . I couldn't recognize any of them but i had a feeling of nostalgia . I could see them beaming with happiness , fighting for their turn to talk to me . They were happy to entertain us , grace the event with their bubbly talk and moves . Though they seemed happy , there was a sense of sorrowfulness and grief in them . When asked , they told me about their story and how they ended up at the juvenile home. They brunt the wounds of their past and were not happy with their present . 

Few stories were unbearable . A child came to me , urging for a handshake ; i did so willingly only to be informed that he was dumb . "His mother cut his tongue " , they said . I couldn't believe my ears . How can a mother be so brutal and tyrant . What amazed me was their endurance and their will to continue and meet their parents one day . Not everybody had the will , there were few who had no knowledge of their surroundings and had given up on life . No matter how much i strive to make them laugh , their lips wouldn't part . They complained about the food and hygiene . Many north Indians complained that they were discriminated by the officials and beaten badly when not concurred to their demands . 

I was dumbstruck . I was met with helpless eyes but couldn't do anything . The juvenile home was run by  the Government and  any step taken to help these children would be tagged as anti-government . Their innocent faces still haunt me . I have done everything to find their families but in vain .

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Story of an expressionless face

Walking on the busy road seemed like a daily routine
similar stones whisking , bringing me closer to my dream
loneliness of my life kills me every moment
making me realize that i am nothing but a dormant


memories of childhood prick me every second
cursing my urge to become an independent
celestial bodies in the sky remind me of my failure
a failed life and a lost lost love seemed severe


how much do i wish to rewind my life
to whisk away from the daily doses of crime
fly with dear butterflies , go deep into the sea
but dear 'o' that will only remain a dream


the tussle between heart and mind took away my only belonging
all i could do was sigh and consider myself less deserving
Why did i ever choose a path with no destination ?
with little choice between life and death resulting into loads of frustration

Thanks to my thankless life
all i am left with is a job in a factory and dreams to drive !

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