The Twenty-Fifth Hour

Since I was born you looked after me,
How much I have grown only you can see,
As the mother corrects mistakes her children make,
You have spoken to me without being fake.
Twenty-four hours of the day you may be busy,
But the twenty-fifth hour is there for me.
I look back to the time of my inception,
You have helped me without any condition,
Today is my day to thank you O lass,
You are because of whom this blog has what it has.
But just like always, the mother has to better,
And as usual, I need to make my feet wetter,
Wet in the mysticism of poetry, of writing,
And I am far from being a blog king.
And there is a prayer, which I hymn now and then,
That a person like you should get all men.
You are the ideal, you have engendered,
The urge of writing, my posts you have rendered.
I know what I just wrote may seem nonsense,
But deep in my mind somewhere you have filled sense.
And as I pause, an eyelash falls on my hand,
And I wish your dreams against the sands of time stand.

When I was small I used to close the fridge door really slowly just to see when the light went out

An awkward title, well, it just symbolizes the awkward mood swings I go into now and then. It seems for a moment as if the whole world was conspiring against me, and in the next moment the whole world lights my path, and this is not something new that’s happening to me, I have been going through all this since a long time now.

I remember how when I was small I used to close the refrigerator door really slowly just to see when the light went out. And I noticed, it always went out a fraction of a second before the door was closed. And then I grew up and read about the Butterfly Effect. Yeah, do not try to connect the former two lines, you won’t be able to. But I realised something important through this small fridge game of mine. The light always goes out before everything closes. You can always see the light going out, and be sure that something is going to close after this. Like for example, tube-lights going out before going to sleep, or the light of love going out before an actual break-up, which brings me to what I analyzed. Nothing happens all of a sudden, everything is a gradual process.

The darkest hour is before the dawn. But the converse is not true. Similarly, a put out of the lights of love does surely signify the end of it, but the end of it need not signify the putting out of the light from one’s heart. And though you may feel what I am writing is utter bullshit, and in some corner of the mind even I feel so, I actually am not.

When I started writing this blog, I had a motive. A motive to reach to specific people my thoughts. The mission remained incomplete. The motives changed. Now I write only for my pleasure. When I was small I won essay competitions. Yet I find it difficult to write in prose now. I prefer poetry, not only because it’s more beautiful, but because it’s an ability to express your feelings in a restricted environment. I do not have any ideals, I was never in this in the first place. I never read poems, except for the ones coming in the final examination. I used to read novels, but stopped after I read “The Monk Who Sold his Ferrari”, it was such a bore. I wanted to write in my blog an autobiography, but its draft wasn’t accepted by people who were characters in the narrative. I had to drop the idea. I posted every day, or at least every alternate day earlier, now I don’t. Not that I have less time, but that there are few things which I put up nowadays. I still write much more.

Dear eyelashes, wishbones, dandelions, pennies, shooting stars, 11:11, and birthday candles. Do your job.

Now that was the collection of the most unrelated facts u must ever have read! 

Stepping Over a Blade of Grass

“Ah!”, an agonizing voice reverberated in my ears over and over again,
I looked around but couldn’t find anyone,
I moved a step forward, and “Ah!”, came the aching voice again.
I stopped for a moment, scanned my environs.
No, no one. Silence. I took a slight step forward, and,
“Ah!”, came the heart-rending voice again.
Slowly yet steadily I deciphered the mystery, and the origin of the voice,
And was most astonished to see,
It came from the blades of grass pressured under my foot.
As when the Giant would step on my chest,
I was the giant, and the grass, I.
I retrieved my foot, and bent down and looked,
At the blade of grass I had stepped upon.
A green, small blade, so tender, yet so strong,
So insignificant, yet so very significant.
You should never demean even the smallest of things I thought,
For even the grass in my eye would cause the same pain,
As which I had got when I had been betrayed in love..
Oh, were I a bird! I would fly in the sky and never hurt
The smallest of a grass, because its heart, now I hear it beat.

I Love You Even Today

Men may change, time may pass,
Things may, or may not last,
Towns get looted, names fade soon,
The heart burns under the sun every noon,
Whatever may happen, and whatever does,
You should know how I feel, you really must.
Those days have passed when people understood,
Analysed their love, and it against the sand of times stood,
Yet the sands got washed by the sea one day,
The water took it away in its own way,
The strings got broken, they cried in pain,
The girl in love did things insane.
But deep in my soul, I do know a bit,
What people may think I don’t give a shit,
I want to tell you be it night or day,
Just like before, I love you even today.
Tired I am of staying alone,
Looking for hours your pictures on the phone,
So far from you yet so close I am,
People may say I am insane, I don’t give a damn.
I wait at the front door, you will come one day,
I am sure you will, how much ever no you say.
Smiles and happiness will kiss my feet,
Hand in hand, we’ll walk down that street,
And you know how I feel, even if you don’t say,
Just like before, I love you even today.


‘I would now say you must look here,
At the lower of the front where the skin is not clear,
You see someone has tattooed something,
Earlier it was not so much, now it is a priceless thing.’
Curiously I looked at the skin of the lady,
Beneath the navel I could see the design,
That was too rich and royal and as old as good wine.
I couldn’t see the whole tattoo, and seeing my frown,
Gracefully the madam in front of me took off her gown.
The tattoo I at once recognized was of the artist,
The greatest one in town right then, known for his broken wrist.
The style was the same, the signature too,
The colors he used, the brushes two,
All were the same, and I thought,
For the paintings of whom we day and night fought,
At one point of time was poor enough,
To paint on a lady’s body and do other stuff.
‘Why don’t you sell your skin off to me,
Then you can live where everything is free,
‘Cause the money I will give you will be so so much,
You would have free dinners, shopping and lunch.
The lady looked curiously at me,
As if I had done some sin,
Then smiled slightly and from her purse,
Took out a small box of tin,
Handed me a card and wore back her gown,
And rushed away into the busy town.
I opened the card and I got her address,
And soon with her skin the crowd I will address.

Ode to India

You are my Juliet, Eve you are,
Kohl of eyes, anklet you are,
My lady love, my dove you are,
Wherever I stay, there you are.
You are the dream I weave each night,
You never disappear from my sight,
Whenever in darkness, you show me light,
Dim though the roads, you make them bright.
Come let us in our life first of all,
Write down her name who made us stand tall,
Let us talk about her who did,
Helped us to get of the English rid.
Our face is its face, our color its color,
Will live with it, will die with it, there is no one other.
She makes me feel I am a part of her,
When I close my eyes, I see only her.

Keep smiling like now you are,
Keep singing how you sing today,
And we’ll win every challenge and will make you happy,
As I’ve done so today.
Come what may in your life I’ll endure,
I’ll save you from every bloody hand be sure,
Will pray for you each day and night,
And will win fight after fight after fight.
Bless me oh You who makes me win,
I love You as much as I love her,
When I will fall don’t pick me up,
I’ll get up myself holding the soil of her.
I will never forget you, till my last breath,
Oh my India, I’ll love you even after my death.