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Friday, July 7, 2017

The Rain

Drops pattering in the background, the air swirling around,
No rays dancing, far and wide; no light, no hope,
Thoughts and memories paving the way ahead, just like you,
Distant in memory, yet a click away, and a shake of the head,
Words flowing like rivulets in their youth, more often than not,
Repetition is more about coincidence, of thoughts,
Petrichor rising with the falling rain, emotions following suit,
New friends, new places, new memories, yet not a new me,
A forlorn face hidden behind a smile so warm and clear,
A dream in mind, an idea in place; but for that face,
The clouds mirroring the eyes so wet, but not in sorrow,
In peace; the tranquil lazing under the sun,
Bathing in the silence; dancing to the quiet song of absence,
The faces have changed, for you and for me,
So has the time; yet everything has remained the same,
Nothing can be undone, the moments, the time, the past,
It will forever remain a chapter; repeating and changing,
Just like the rain; falling and rising, felt but not seen.

Friday, April 28, 2017

Better and Worse

There are good things, and better and worse,
Moments colored and vivid, with others drab,
It's so weird to be happy always, or sad,
Tears streaming down the cheeks, in laughter or in pain,
Even a coin has two sides, but it's one which makes the difference,
It’s always about the first- friend, smile, appearance,
Hanging around for a while, till they fade away,
Mutilated by the next, and the next, for better or for worse,
The shadows build around, till a light blows them all away,
Not just a person, nor a feeling, a moment it can be,
To laugh, to cry, to break; may be one, may be many,
The series goes on till it all comes crashing down,
Relief it may be, a bud blooming in the cold grey snow,
A new life, a new beginning, back to the top of the list,
It all starts again with the first; it can only get better, or worse.

Saturday, April 15, 2017


A lot has changed as the clock has ticked, yet it feels the same,
Our paths crossing each other, again;
The dried leaves crackling under our feet, the wilderness still lush and full,
Hints of the wilting brush- brown, layered with the tears of the forest,
Signs of birth, of rejuvenation; of change, but not of difference,
The winds blowing through, a shiver of hope in the heat of the moment,
Is it you, or is it me; or both, as the greenery jumps back to life,
More than happiness, its glee; more than shock, it's relief,
A passing ray, visible for a second, and then not; close yet afar,
That's you and me; the epitome of freshness- evergreen,
Heads looking back, just as our roads; back to where we began,
Or away; the rain coming down in sheets, a cue to vanish; again,
More than love, its friendship; more than moments, it's forever,
More than you and me, it's us.

Monday, April 10, 2017


In the light of the beginning, we missed the shadow of the end,
It all left behind a void- tiny, yet a hole deep enough to burn,
The pain wasn't there, but it wasn't pleasant either,
A thought in itself, a dream in itself, fun in itself, a duty in itself,
It was all we wanted, and got it we did;
Ideas coming up and walking out, some taking shape,
The tape is playing again, the moment has returned to the spotlight,
Time is surely weird, or is it?
We had walked away one day, till it came back, and so did we,
All smiles, subtle remarks, it was the old against the new,
The time we shared together is still fresh in memory,
I doubt it ever will get old, nor will you, for me,
It's a new start, for the lot of us, the pack from when it began,
A beginning for you, a beginning for me, a beginning for us, again,
Tough like always, and simple- as everything remains with you,
We may have walked past the end, on a new route,
I doubt it will be any better, as best beginnings happen here.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017


It's that time of the year, not this, but a couple ago,
Nostalgia isn't right; it's all still fresh as I walk the same road,
Memories aren't supposed to be that bad, hurtful,
The timeline remains the same, as history repeats itself,
I see you here, and also her, clear as it could be,
Warding off the black, shedding the light he ought to have then,
It's so different, yet it's all the same, faces, actions,
Coincidences aren't supposed be this prevalent,
Jet black it was, now dirty grey, the shakes aren't visible,
The haze is an envelope, holding in it the letter of a new beginning,
There has to be a start to every end,
A wrong for every right, just like you for me,
Time walked past us, but we caught up; we lost a battle, but not the war,
The tide may change, but not the sea,
There's moisture on my face, an awakening, stealing away the clogginess,
Pushing away a face, your face; it’s not the rain, but the mist.