Tears sometimes come as close as the air around my eyes,
And then they fail me.

For some reason unknown,
I am left alone.
Like an abandoned old castle,
Or mebe just an old hut in a country farm.

I fail to let go.

Not just you.
Not just your memories.
Not just your voice.
But my own tears. My soul.

A comeback is a dream I dream,
With every scary night that passes.
Only to read the following morning,
How dreams are really just dreams.

Deep within there is a tavern of hope.
That will turn toxic sooner or later.
A silent death I will die then,
Like the ones buried under an avalanche.


As I oscillate between melancholy and euphoria,
Broken pieces of shattered dreams all around,
I have begun to walk.

Pieces of past puncture the veins of my feet,
I look at the future with closed eyes,
Scared to see the unplanned.

I have taken a leap.
I will still bleed.
But lying motionless was no more an option.

When I open my eyes,
I want to watch a past that I can bear and smile at.
And a present that promises the future I had planned for my self.


Like the kid that lost his favourite toy,
He runs around with beating legs.
In search of a substitute,
Which he knows exists not.

Filling his time with pranks a lot,
And making friends that may help him find,
The toy he took to bed each night,
For he didn’t want to lose it at all.

But that rainy night with hair so wet,
Walking through knee-deep mud,
He couldn’t realize the loosening grip,
Of the toy so beloved.

Went crying he when couldn’t find,
The greatest joy he ever had,
The moon-light just wasn’t enough,
He wished the toy would illuminate.

Billion moments have passed since then,
He reminisces every moment of joy.
He searches on streets virgin,
Praying to find back his lovely toy.


Why do we all have some questions to be answered?

Some smiles,that can’t be forgotten?

Some people,that can’t be estranged?

Some wishes,that can’t be fulfilled?

Some words,that don’t stop echoing?

Some tears,that refuse to dry?

Some tastes,that still linger?

Some touches,that can be still felt?

Some memories, that never fade?

Some questions, that can never be answered?

Some people, that will never return?

Some moments, you will always relive?





P.S. – last 4 lines have been borrowed from Sukhada’s comment. Thank you Sukhada 🙂

Haslo Mhanje

A friend told me the other day about a poem that reminds her of me. Its in Marathi.If you understand Marathi,you must read this.I do not remember the name of the Poet.Full credits to him.

हसलो म्हणजे…

हसलो म्हणजे सुखात आहे असे नाही,

हसलो म्हणजे दुख:त नव्हतो असे नाही!!

हसलो फक्त स्वत:च्या फजितीवर,

निर्लज्यागत दिली होती स्वत:च ताळी!

हसलो कारण शक्य नव्हते दूसरे काही,

डोळ्यात पाणी नव्हते असे नाही!!

हसलो कारण तूच म्हणाली होती कधी,

याहून नवे चेह-याला काही शोभत नाही!

हसलो कारण तुला विसरने जेवढे अवघड,

तितके काही गाल प्रसरने अवघड नाही!!

हसलो कारण दुस-यानाही बरे वाटते,

हसलो कारण ते तुला खरे वाटते!

हसलो म्हणजे फक्त उगवली फुले कागदी,

आतून आलो होतो बहरुण असे नाही!!

हसलो कारण बत्तिशी कुरूप आहे,

खाण्याची अन दाखवन्याची एकच आहे!

हसलो कारण सत्याची मज भिती नव्हती,

हसलो कारण त्यावाचुन सुटका नव्हती !!!

May be its not time for nostalgia yet

May be its not time for Nostalgia yet.
May be the fire has still not been doused completely.
Oh,how do I tell that?!
It isn’t science to be proved.
It is heavenly – Only to be felt.

Yes,there is still some time for nostalgia.
Some stories, some instances – remain unwritten.
Some actions – remain undone.
Some conclusions – are yet to be made.

Some trees are yet to be planted,
Some fruits yet to be reaped.
Some weeds yet to be pulled,
Some seeds yet to be spat.

Some winters are yet to be warmed,
Some summers are yet to be enjoyed,
Some springs are yet to be danced.

A few letters are yet to be written,
A card is yet to be printed.
A house is yet to be built,
A lawn is yet to be mowed.

And then some masala-tea,
And some twisted snacks,
Some old photo albums,
Some cane furniture on the lawn,
And you.
May be then, it will be time for Nostalgia.Not yet!

Saari baat

Aaj saari baat samaj aa gayi,
Beet chuke hain kuch paanch mahiney,
Ya phir shayad gyarah.

Bharti jab thi baahon mein woh,
Aur kehti thi hai jannat yeh,
Khamoshi uski yeh bhi kehti,
Kuch aaib hain tum mein,
Aur kuch mujh mein.

Kai baar bataya tha,
Ki yeh na karo,
Ki woh na karo.
Samajta tha woh bhi,
Kathputli nahi,Insaan banana chahti hai.
Par aalas aur bachpan ka maara,
Koshish ka karke waada,
Shayad baat ki gambheerta ko na samaj pata.
Kabhi samaj bhi pata,par bhool jata.

Thi akelepan ki takleef usay,
Tha darr usay ki kahin door na chali jaaye.
Pyaar pe vishwaas toh tha,
Par khud par vishwaas,
Na jaane kyun,
Ghat hi raha tha.

Jab samjha sara majla,
Beet chukay thay kuch paanch mahiney,
Ya phir shayad gyaarah.
Jaan chuka tha,
Kaise uskay sabra ka baandh toota hoga,
Kaise ussay mera saath choota hoga.

Aaj har pal chahta hai ussay batiyana.
Chahta hai usay wapas paana.
Phir usay apni pari banana.
Par kya woh maanegi?
Kya woh itni door jaa chuki hai,
Ki chaand aur taare bhi ab nazdeek lagte hain.

Galat toh kuch woh bhi thi,
Do thappad kyun nahi maare,
Shayad samaj jata.
Par shayad nahi.
Aise toh maa aur patni dono bani,
Par maaf na kar paayi,
Jab toota dil, toote sapne aur kuch vishwas.

Kya woh phir wapas aaegi?
Kya woh kabhi apnaegi?
Kya woh phir apnay mann ko kabhi pighlaaegi?
Shayad nahi.
Shayad doori sirf 1 SMS ki hi hai.
Ya phir paanch mahino ki,
Ya shayad gyarah.