Touch me just once and I shall change!

When the whole world has moved on to build the castle

I ponder over just one thought -

“Is Divinity a fairy tale in the fear of darkness

Or a Science in its evolution?”

While the divinity is for a sole person within

But Science is for the whole mankind.

I am just a drop of water in the vast Ocean

And my thoughts ripple across its endless boundaries

In the quest to conquer the far away shore;

The shore which seems to be non existing without a guiding star

I shall wait for thee Lord –

Touch me just once and I shall change!

…as if there is no tomorrow!!

This was the day I never waited for

The butterfly flew away as if there is no tomorrow

I could never understand the bond

the flowers shared with the butterfly

Neither was it a factual love nor a true friendship bond.

Was it Platonic or just a feeling, I know not!

Any relation will not justify the flowers’ thoughts

The thoughts which were left orphan today!

She might have laughed and called them insane

But why did the flowers sob as if there is no tomorrow?

I would call as always -

Never in the twist of fate nor in the heavenly disguise

Will she return back.

Wishing the “best wishes” and a “Good bye”

from any star or planet was not easy

And not even from the far away Pluto.

But why did the flowers stood with a smile

To bid the final bye as if there is no tomorrow?

It might have all started with the butterfly’s presence

But, the ballad will never be written on her again…

The flowers have many wishes to be fulfilled

And the whole world is yet to be embraced with its’ fragrance

I wish them to blossom ever again as if there is no tomorrow!

It is written!

Once in a while stroll down the avenue

And imagine a carefree life with all the good health,

imagine your needs are satisfied with all the worldly things you aspire for

Imagine you are living the life you always wanted to live

Imagine you could turn all your wishes to reality

And imagine no restrictions in the way you think with no strings attached

What can be an ideal life?

I fail to understand every time I wonder why and how

It appears to me always, I am just an insignificant actor

With a script very well written in the book of life

And very well directed in this fascinating world

Try to change the way you live and enjoy the adventure

Change often as if it is inevitable

Change the script of your life and again you will be taught – It is all written!

On Children...

Recently came across a beautiful poem written by Kahlil Gibran – a well known poet whose work is full of lyrical outpouring and expresses his mystical nature.

On Children…

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Stoppin by your brown eyes...

In your brown eyes I am lost

In your brown eyes I couldn’t stay

In your brown eyes I wish to meet you again

In your brown eyes I wish to stay little longer

In your brown eyes I see a pearl embedded

In your brown eyes I see myself entrenched

In your brown eyes there is a sparkling glory

In your brown eyes there is a serenity!

Oh pretty brown eyes! Can’t you stay bit further?

I want to get lost in your glory and never turn back

Sailing in the clouds and watching all the things you love…

In your brown eyes I want to live again!

The Personifier of Beauty – My Butterfly!

Remembering my childhood days…

Along with my friends I used to hunt butterflies with craze

Blue, Yellow, White & Red, all appeared so colorful and beautiful!

The more I go behind, the more they seem to go away

Until one day I decided to stop chasing

And just watch them enjoy their blissful way

Many butterflies flew by my swinging garden

Many were forgotten in this beautiful flight

A very countable few could make a mark

And are remembered for life!

O Dear Personifier of Beauty – My Butterfly!

Have you imagined what print are you leaving behind

And how the ambiance is influenced by just your presence?

I hope you could feel little bit of serenity in my garden, if not all...

I hope you could enjoy little bit the taste of the nectar, if not all…

I hope you would remember the melodies of atleast some Ballads…

…written and sung just for you!

Phoenix Rising!!

Why does Phoenix try to reach sun

When it knows it is impossible?

And then it is consumed by flames

Only to immediately rise again from the ashes

And again aim to reach the sun!

Why do insects swirl round the flame

When they know they cannot embrace it?

And then they set an example for others to follow

One after other they push themselves to the agony

And then they surrender themselves to death!

Are some of my passions swirling the same way

When I know they are impossible to achieve?

Should I look at Phoenix and let them be?

or should I kill them and attain salvation?

It is difficult to chose one of them

As one is a perfect example to follow your single passion

While the other is a practical notion.

[I would rather let my conscience be my guide and follow the intuition]

Will you be my Valentine?

So calm, So Innocent

So engrossed in her own world

With her own worries and own passion

I am blessed to see her smile

It’s rare to be bestowed

Anyone can forget the whole world when she is embraced

So fresh when she is in zeal

Loves to go to her comfort in her apathy

“I love you” is the sweetest phrase ever coined

Anyone likes to hear this just not today
But day after day – Everyday

I am waiting to hear this from her

To experience that selfless love

With so innocence she said "No" when I asked her -

“Will you be my Valentine?”

She had no reasons when asked her "Why" - but just a smile.
Don't know how should I take it, just to wait again -

For the day she will be My Valentine!

Flagstaff – The taste of Liberty!

                   

Every time the road leads to Flagstaff, My mind strolls up in the Heaven

All the flowers rejoice with trembling in my Garden

And this time was no exception

Every time in a new attire to embrace the natural beauty

Sometimes in a snow white, sometimes in a patchy snow

Sometimes attracts my butterfly, while sometimes makes my angel smile

Every time my comrade is just the cherry on the Sundae

Sometimes with a special feeling, Sometimes with a Heavenly one

Sometimes takes away my breath, while sometimes a sweet taste of liberty!

Lost in the wilderness…

When I am in Love, in Passion and In the deep desire to manifest the unmanifest

I feel the whole universe is with me to fight all the odds and evils…

But when my love, my passion and my desire goes away

I feel all alone helpless and suddenly fall down from Heaven to Hell

O Solitude! Where are you?

Don’t leave me in the wilderness of life

I want to seek a light I can follow

Show me the meaning of being lonely!

Both the worlds look so strange to me

Both are unknown and both are illusionary to me

Am I being slothful and running from the reality?

Or Am I being too selfish to seek reality?

Again I fall down with no answers

And seek comfort in whatever I do.

I am so amateur to cross the wilderness of life

I know not what I do

I know not what I do!

  

Butterfly @ Mendy’s Place

When I took my little angel to Mendy’s Place

Dressed her with smart shoes and tiny lace

To get some wellness and the holy grace

I went back my time when I saw the whole Theme

It was so real I painted in my dream

A butterfly on a flower enjoying in a gleam

Sucking the nectar and singing in a realm

I said – O Dear! So you are here

To heal my little angel in tear

Do you see me calling to lend me your ear?

Then why don’t you come and listen to me near?

Have you tried it yet?

This is not a Verse – Just a Contemplation!

Don’t get easily carried away without giving a thought
Else you will find yourself lost in a lot!

A thought can change the way you think

Even a slight impulse can change the very next blink

Observe your thought and you will find you in your making!

Everything is VOID in this world – both you and I!

REALITY is an illusion – A complex data structure with umpteen pointers

You can live with it, but you cannot leave without freeing it!

You can convert it to Void without intricacy! Have you tried it yet?

  

A Routine of Hopes...

Each day starts with a hope…

I go for work and my eyes naively searches for my refreshed hope!

My Happiness entangles me around when I see the state in green

For I know it will be a short moment today while she will be seen

I wrap up my right of way duties to talk to her in clean

But alas! My heart breaks every time she goes away from my screen!

Now this is the only way I can talk!

But I thank my almighty, coz at least this is the way I can talk!

My day ends with a new hope to see her again in green

For I know there is no other way I can change even if I am keen.

Coz this has become a practice in my daily routine -

I feel strange when I write these lines when I really mean!

Why are the good times always short lived?

"If I had all the time, I’d intend each moment with you…

If I had all the supremacy, I’d pause each moment in your tranquility!"

Neither will I have all the time nor all the supremacy

The flowers may fade and the butterfly may fly away

I am afraid – They may get lost in their own little world

-A world so called “The Reality”

I see from a distance, not very long ago

And wonder - Why are the good times short lived?

A mere presence and A fluttering sense

A sweet voice from a distance and A placid talk - was enough…

But now neither will I sense the passing wind

Nor will I hear any sweet voice

And again I wonder – Why are the good times always short lived?