ego, failure, fairytale, family, happy, hardwork, home, house,, human, humanity, India, life, love, motivation, poem, poverty,, relax, sad, self, story telling, sucess

Utopian fantacies


There was a girl,
Full of innocense,
believed her dreams.

A warrior prince, she was hoping for;
Who fights her miseries;
Takes her far:
In a world of peace, love and joy,

There was a fire, sudden at night.
Her room was locked,
Her parents cried, help!

Yet that girl, sat and smiled.
She waited, doing nothing.
When the door opened,
She was bemoaned.

Sitting by the window,
Waiting for that prince.
Closing the door,
Not crying anymore!

What a dark imagination she had!
Once what made her happy,
Today, killed her crappy.

What a believe, fated to ashes!

A utopian fantasy!
I declare!

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Lessen you’ thinketh

The more you think, the worse.

As thoughts are contradictory, self and others.

Uncombined twisted meaning of conventional wisdom.

Paradoxical events binds together, in an event of cognitive dissonance.

Has been less complicated in approach; Plato has not been melted into simplicity.

Greek philosophers to Indian ancient hymns: Large canonical texts, looks impressed.

Wonder it’s been, to decode:

Thoughts, it’s origin, processed, divided.

To me, to others and to this overlapping structure of society.

This ‘thought’, has robes to change.

Rightly been said:

The less you think, the better.

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New year’s Eve-il


Markets are crowded, stores decorated.
People: wearing nice clothes; seems in a hurry.


She wondered,why?”



They say,it’s new year eve! “.



What’s that?”, she questioned?



“It’s celebrating togetherness, prosperity, love! “, They replied.



Ah! That’s so”;



“It’s stupid, “, ” It’s expensive! “,
she muttered.



It’s midnight;



It’s new year eve! “, people shouted.


Excitement, filled in air reaches her ear.


Out of window, she looked outside.
Black night with colourful sky,
Different fireworks, amazing sounds.


she smiled,


Could it be?


My brother, seeing the same, in far land,
How he is now, it’s been years, we met.

Could it be?


my mother, have time, of her work; watch this glittering ‘thing’,
I guess.

Could it be?


my father, watching with me!
It’s too near from the sky”.

Yet, all these are;
only in my thoughts.
I can think, but can’t feel.”

“This enthusiasm, I saw in others.
People making crazy faces;
Out of joy, with their love”.

How lovely,
if we were together, holding hands, just like them.
I will share, my yesterday’s saved bun.”


“Of course, soup, i stole from bin,
Even little, it will fill our hear!
Of togetherness, of love”.

Different I am,
with the rest”, “who celebrate eve”.

For her it’s eve-il,
which reminds her:
Loneliness;
Dark, silent, empty heart;
Mournful tears.

Yet,
hope in memories.

Couching her body, to avoid cold from the winter breeze;
coming with the eves songs;
silently from the cracked hole, of window.

smiling!, she goes to sleep:



Next Eve-il


“May be!”, “mine new years eve! “.

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