That dream… 



I was walking down the golden street, 
With a little glimmer in my eyes, 
With shoes a little dirty, 
With clothes a little dusty, 
I was walking with a little of me, 
A little of you, 
Hand in hand, 
With a sight so close, 
A shop came with things unknown, 
A scent so serene, 
A vase so beautiful, 
Where things were arranged on a clean shelf, 
Some expensive, some priceless, 
A child on a mother’s shoulder, 
And a little one holding her hand, 
Then a father who carried them all, 
Towards a brighter and a merrier, 
I took a turn to the highway of dreams, 
Hopped onto a chariot, 
Shining bright, with a lever, 
He asked me to pull the lever, 
Wings came out the chariot, 
And it flew above the horizon, 
Where birds had nested on clouds so high, 
Where the wind sung a song so clear, 
It ran across the orchards of smiles, 
Trespassers are welcome,  a board was hung, 
I plucked a smile, a two or a three, 
And filled my bag with laughing thee, 
As the chariot flung again, 
I was pushed back the seat, 
And it sped across the river, 
Where fishermen had spread, 
Nets of cashmere, 
They said hello, 
Offered me a drink, 
And I gave them a smile, 
From my bag shining and white, 
Suddenly the sky had started to rise, 
The sun was eating up everything and sight, 
The chariot lost control and headed straight for the Sun, 
I held the rails, prayed for my life, 
And it all ended up in the light, 
I could hear only a sound so familiar, 
Wake Up Son, The Sun is up, 
And I saw the Sun eating up my dream so dear… 

A leap….. 



A dream found me in my sleep,
Showed me places, goals and rewards, 
As the night slowly dissolved into the dawn, 
It woke up with me, 
Asked me to take a leap of faith, 
Why should I, 
The immature me had it questioned, 
It’s easy to see the one you perceive, 
Maybe a treasure lies under the rainbow…..

Shall we, 
The dream had asked, 
And I closed my eyes, 
As the wind fluttered my wings, 
And let me dive…… 


Dreams… 

There is something inexplicable about dreams. 

Some dreams see the day of light everytime you open your eyes.

Some just die a death of disbelief. 

Some become a part of yourself. 

Or some of those just fade away. 

Dreams are a reality until the power of belief kicks in and pushes us to understand the idea behind seeing a dream in the first place. 

Dreams can make you cry,  make you proud or just can scare every cell in your body. 

But dreams are an endangered species,  the one which faces a threat of being extinct under the overdue pressure of comparisons,  expectations and desire. 

We need to dream more….

This picture reminds me of the many dreams that my near ones took sometime back. The pain,  the hardwork that went into it and the result that came out of it. 

Some dream with their God, some with their eyes, some with their mind, a beating heart or some,  with their hands…… 

Dreams….

Beautiful was the word they said,
You were there all afraid,
I could see your eyes down with regret,
You had chased away a glorious dream,
Indulged in the thoughts damm so mean,
Jumped, drove and then a stumble,
Beautiful was the word they said,
You were there all afraid,
Your hands had a tremble far too seam,
You are my girl was the only synth,
You fought, you loved, had a scream,
But still it was them who won,
Wars and guns grow a crown,
Beautiful was the word they said,
You were there all afraid,
Ripped off your soul, standing all alone,
You skipped even a beat,
Justice should be served,
Bring the man who did it all,
Arms of justice were busy,
Carrying the man who was all hazy,
A wave of energy had struck,
Justice should be served,
The man was taken on a pedestal far too high,
Birds flew with a griny brigh,
The man had lifted her eyes,
A dream was about to die,
The crowd cheered, took a stone,
See there’s a bird who flew too high,
Justice should be served, 
Was their only cry,
The Sun came above the sky,
The man was shinning like a golden cry,
A scene she couldn’t have seen,
She closed her eyes, 
With hands that were his,
The pedestal was now empty,
The bird was now free,
Justice is served they said,
No birds should fly so high,
Wars and guns are forces of men,
The dreams that die a death of flight,
All the love that is lost in the democracies of might,
Preposterous it may seem,
The sky is so high,
The chains that bind every child,
The ideas that revolutionise,
Is there something wrong with being a wave,
A bird had flown far too high,
Shot down by a golden arrow,
Two dreams were buried that day,
Justice should be served,
They had all declared.

The dreams I see….

Dear Miss yet to come,

There this thing that is happening with me for some days. Everyday I sleep and in my dreams I see some many versions of you everyday. In those many versions of you,  sometimes I find out what you hide from the world. Something mystique, something magical that only makes my affection for you grow by infinities. Have you ever observed a rose. It is beautiful to the entire world, but when we open up its layers, it spreads a fragrance that can only be comprehended by the few who dare open it. Every layer is a revelation, a truth told, blissful, enchanting. Everyday we become partners in something very beautiful. We join hands and make something that usually makes us jump with joy. There are days when we rest. You lie down and I just look at you. The most perfect creation, with me. I feel happy, I am excited. Every breath that you take becomes a musical note for me and together they become a Symphony. Sometimes I let my hands be lost in your hair. I find them a little strange. They always know their way out, but all they want is to be there. Your hair seems as veins running through them, giving them a purpose to exist, a goal to achieve. Yesterday I saw you making breakfast for us. You were standing at the counter, arranging things and I was filling myself with that sight. The rays of the sun were running straight through your hair, they had turned golden. Even sunlight couldn’t surpass you. All it wanted was to stay. You make it beautiful. Just like the stones in a river that make a music so mesmerizing and soothing, one can never forget. 

My alarm clock is my new enemy these days because whenever I try to reach to you, that small little thing creates an explosion in my mind and I have to wake up. 

But you know the best thing about dreams. I can watch them with my eyes open.
Waiting for you,

With lots of love 

Kumar Harsh 

Dreams….

For once lets forget what we are,
Bring about a dream watched on a dreamy tart,
Let’s see beyond the realms of men,
Far past the pastures and the dying deads,
Cross the limits set by our realistic self,
For once let ourselves be ourself,
No ideal, no model to look upto,
The one in the mirror is the one up for you,
Our clashes and fights,
The nights where we lost our might,
Remember them, learn them, let them be past,
We have a journey to complete,
What’s the hurry, Nobody has to compete,
The roads sometimes lead to places unknown,
We meet, we talk, just behind the greeny grown,
Love is the force we need it all,
Do the rivers ever never flood?
All we have is this life infront of us,
Why not move on with the things that hurt,
Carry a child in the sun,
Make a wish true with your own hands,
Never belittle those who dream,
You know dreams are a currency,
Everyone can exchange…