Outside the window, I looked

Broad roads covered with trees

The trees were bent on one side

They were tired of standing it seemed


The sun filtered its rays

By throwing them on the leaves

Leaves which were green

But varying from light to dark


Some birds were sitting on the branches

Shitting on the people passing by


Vehicles were rushing away


On one side of the road

Beggars were sitting

Asking for money and food


Some students were walking on the footpath

Discussing their exam paper


One lady was buying groceries

Suddenly, an ambulance passed

Screeching its horn

Either carrying a dead body

Or trying to save someone

But its speed suggested

Possibility of life


On the building opposite mine

Children were playing football

In the hot sun


My thoughts were in a disordered state

Same as the view through my window

It was all messy and disordered

But still, it seemed perfect.


Tough day

Tough day

It has been a tough day for me
In the morning I met a man
He was covered in shit
And was washing the drain
I was in shock
How bad is life?
Like hitting your head on a rock
You will bleed until you die
Living happily is a lie
Then I moved
The lie got proved
With a child on one shoulder
And a bag of vegetables on the other
The woman was walking swiftly
To sell the vegetables and earn
Her face smiled
And I got lost
I went to a temple
To find peace
But in my mind
There was war
I had everything
Even the time to look into other lives
But my day was still tough
I realized soon
That woman’s smile
And that drain man’s patience
Killed me
Why were they happy?
They were not supposed to be?
I thought about them for a while
Then I started looking into the sky
And I was drowning
Into the depths
Flying with the stars
The day was tough
But the night was not.

Trapped soul.

Trapped soul.



I can do what I want

The sky is just above

And stars are just right here

I can touch them if I want

Rough paths don’t bother me

I know my way and I will follow it

But wait, am I free?

Oh shit!

What is this “I”?

I am my body and my soul

My body is made and is not free

My soul is trapped inside my body

It is also not free

But how can I think freely then?

Maybe my thoughts are bounded

Something must be original I feel

That something is the reference point

To decide the freedom of thoughts and body

What if the trapped soul is the reference?

What if freedom itself is caged?

To be free I need to break the prison

And set my soul free

Maybe freedom is my destiny.

Finding the blue.

Finding the blue.



I walk bare feet on the roads every night

I roll my body on the wet grass

I look at the dark blue sky and wonder

Is the sky seeing the grass as green?

What if it’s green is different from mine

What if it’s green is my blue?

I had this friend

Very good in studies but bad in sports

He just couldn’t run

His parents kept saying

Run! Run! Run!

He fell down

We are trapped in an illusion

We can’t admit things

We can’t digest the fact that sky can see differently than us

We want the grass to be green in all eyes

We forget that all colors unite

To make a beautiful rainbow

Why is green more important

My friend, In order to become green

Lost its own blue

And became colorless


Now, he wanders here and there

To find his blue

By walking bare feet on the roads every night

Rolling his body on the wet grass

And looking at the dark blue sky.





You should live life

You should suffer

If someone says, ‘don’t do it’

You should listen

They have lived more

They have experienced this shit

Don’t be a rebel

Follow the rules

Get married early

Do a regular job

Listen to everyone

Do what they say



Don’t think that fate is in your hands

You are a football

They will kick you

And take you

To your goal

You are not free

You are made from surroundings

You are a byproduct of situations

You are bounded by fear

Fear will decide your road


You will fail if you disobeyed

Failure will harm you

It will make you suffer

Your life will be hell

There is only one way

Stick to it


Now, it’s time

They said way too much

‘Who are they’?

They keep saying things

And I believe blindly

The power in their voice scares me

Should I, for once disobey them

Ignore them

Just stop listening

‘Who am I talking to?’

I don’t know


But I have a feeling


I want to fail

The suffering they said

I want it

I want the satisfaction of not listening to them

I want to live

I want to survive

Life is a hell in all cases

I want to create my own hell

Free will doesn’t exist

But I surely will.





Worries about future which are non existent
Troubles of the past which are no more
All of them met and bombarded inside the brain
An illusion was created
The mind was fooled
The imagination imagined it
Yet it became the most powerful
It ruled like a despot
They named it fear
And I sometimes fear
That I would die one day without understanding fear
How can we ever destroy, limit or understand nothing?
But we can atleast know that it is nothing
Fear is nothing…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………





We played together for hours

Me and my sister

And it started raining

We went running inside our house

Thrashing the wet mud on the way

She said, ‘Wait for me’

I grabbed her arm and we rushed inside

The ecstasy of that moment was mystifying

I still don’t know why but we started laughing

First I laughed and then she imitated me

She tried to laugh in my voice

Those times were so blissful

We didn’t need any reason to laugh

We just laughed

I said, ‘Stop laughing, father is coming’

She kept laughing

And I kept laughing

We rolled on the floor as we laughed

I rolled over to my father’s side

He was talking to someone on the phone

‘Go away’, he said

I and my sister were still laughing

Suddenly, the bliss was gone

As my father slapped me hard on my face

And that was some hard blow I got

My sister stopped laughing and I started crying

It has been 50 years since then

But I still remember it

Every day when I go to sleep

I play that scene in my mind

And I wonder, ‘Why did we laugh so hard that day?’

And I still remember that there was no reason

But the question that haunts me is,

‘Why did my father slapped me?’