Happiness

I smile through the days and nights,
When the Sun rises slowly through the dark,
And Winds bellow loudly amongst the trees,
The fruits fall over the heads of passengers,
The water that touches feet of the unknown,

I smile through seasons and rains,
The summer makes me dance and shine,
The songs the little caprices play,
Over mountains laden with snow,
And the skies that paint with clouds,

I smile through mysteries and the uncontrollable,
For man rarely has control over them,
The twinkling of stars,
Life on a distant Moon,
Somewhere its day and the other nights,

I smile for smile is what I have,
The little creeks on my cheeks,
The wrinkles of the ages when the Sun wasn’t up,
And I slept for days weren’t kind,
The nights smelt of disappointment,
And I was never hungry,
For I know now what it means to be happy,
A bag full of sunshine and a grain of night,
A drop in the ocean and a flight amongst the planets,
It is everything and nothing at all,
A perfect oxymoron,
Isn’t happiness just a state of mind……………..

Balloon…

I see dreams wrapped in satin wraps,
Those speak of places filled with gold,
The roads where are always straight,
And speak of plenty and plenty more,
Once a while I too see,
Little packets wrapped shabbily,
Sometimes an old newspaper,
Or a filthy old bag,
They speak of insecurities and helplessness,
That birth fighters among those that have cracked heels,
Might be them that still maintain the balance,
For dreams aren’t saved for those wooden floors,
A balloon might pop once a while……

Peace

The wind that carries in it,
The cold of the distant glacier,
That melts everytime it hears your name,
A ballad of sweet symphony,
And the Oh so petite heart of mine,
Why do you beat so more,
The wind that carries in it,
Your perfume made of gold,
It breaks the chains ancient,
Rusted and crippled with dust,
The wind brings me peace,
Just like that kiss of yours……

Shayad…

मैं देखता हूँ कुछ उलझे से सपने,
हथेली मैं जो लेके चलते हैं,
वो कुछ खुरदुरे से टुकड़े गहरे,
जहां मैं हूँ , जहां तुम हो, जहां सब हैं,
शायद मंज़िल की तलाश है,
या ढूँढते है ज़रा साफ़ सा आसमान,
शायद कहीं जाना नहीं,
उड़ना ही है शायद……..

Best friend

I wish I could hear you speak,
A sweet slow symphony,
Music to ears, the orchards that bloom,
Fruits incessant over the ledges of rainbow,
Brewed eloquently, just like a perfect rhythm,
But I carry you in my heart,
That sometimes remind me of you,
As I caress the winds and lay down my palm,
Thinking of you,
My old best friend……

Criminal

I wish it were this easy,
The soft music a harp plays,
A singer that matches its frequency,
And you close your eyes to its tune,
I wish it were this very moment,
The one we are always in,
That happiness strikes us in place never been touched before,
And silences become simple,
Not something to run from,
Not something to eradicate,
The flow of words would sometimes be easy,
The mind coherent with the body,
I like to believe that someday,
A day not yet named,
Someday when the sound of water running,
The erratic whistle of the distant engine,
Or the shrieking noise that pierces my mind,
Won’t be something that crawls my skin,
And bring me anxiety that knows no bound,
I like to believe that day would come,
When I am at my lowest,
And the earth begins to close upon my sky,
For if hope isn’t what a being can put up to,
It’s criminal to see the light……

Mist

My eyes see threads of mist,
Entangled around your petite neck,
Like a festoon of fresh flowers,
Blossoming with the day,
They slowly cover up your chest,
And all that lies beneath it,
Happiness and a tinge of malady,
For they sing songs,
Those pull me closer to you,
Slowly but surely,
I desire someday to be a part,
A pearl of your necklace someday,
The admiration priceless,
Eternal and unbound……

Identify….

My days are usually linear,
The routine kicks in as the Sun takes the first yawn,
My legs wobble first,
For they know they have to carry this body of mine,
A body of dreams and desires,
Tanned under the voracious Sun,
Dehydrated and transpiring each day,
I slowly collect pieces of myself,
Dab them with the little integrity I have left,
Left over from the day my soul died,
And the mind took over my decisions,
I bathe myself not so frequent,
The stench never goes away,
My hands still dirty,
Aqua, teal, the color of the sky,
Days pass in utter monotony,
And I depart for home,
Where the air seems a little distilled,
The wooden doors feel familiar,
Marks on the wall my very own,
I am greeted by a warm presence,
Sitting by the garden green,
Pruning the Dahlia with their wrinkled hands,
Cooking something for the heart,
I sometimes sit by them,
Not speaking,
For they know I want to be strong,
The storms have already ravished the inner beings,
A bed made of soft lullabies,
Their memories etched in my sub conscious,
The first day of school, the last day of my college,
I have heard their stories numerous times,
And could hear them a million more,
The days like these,
When the winds are a little kind,
And I can leave my worries packed in my little cardboard box,
The one my parents have kept intact,
It soothes me,
The twinkling rain that sometimes drench me,
Trekking on to the mountains of my past self,
The broken, bruised, failed, deprived,
That heals my wounds,
And stitches them happy,
I sometimes call their names in my sleep,
As their voice guides me in the strangest of times,
The times when I dare to take a leap,
Into the abyss,
The dark seems the day,
Silences eat me like termites brown,
I try to hold onto them,
The sweet riverine flow,
The estuary that sublimes into the ocean,
And breeds villages of life,
Once again,
Every time,
For I am a piece of them,
My identity of their being……………

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Holds me….

The Sun sets over me sometimes,
Slowly as it opens up its veins,
The horizon turns red,
And the clouds scatter away,
For they fear the night,
The eerie silence that disturbs them,
Nomads of the desert,
Star watchers that breathe with their twinkle,
I sing them lullabies sometimes,
Their heart races and dives down too soon,
Maybe like the Sun that sets over me,
A leap of faith they say,
A dive into the dark,
I grow wings fluorescent,
Neon lights that barge through my eyes,
Onto the sky,
The Aurora spectacular,
And slip into a cocoon golden,
The warmth of her skin,
The color of her blood,
The Sun sets over me sometimes,
And she holds me tight……

Stones

I see you walking by the stars,
Holding your breath for the Sun to see,
For one life they say is enough for mortals like us,
Blood and bones walk the scorching earth,
Bleeding to find a space among the legendary,
Sometimes despair, the other hopes for light,
I see your face in these people sometimes,
Lost, waiting to be found,
Searching for their home,
That would eventually bring them peace,
Peace that would cure their internal storms,
And you could sleep easily,
For hours that you may desire,
No thought of what to do next,
What to become,
What further to sacrifice,
Just sleep with eyes closed,
Even on a floor made of stones……

Bed…

It slowly takes over me,
The melodious cacophony of the night,
Dorned with scents velvety,
It pierces my heart,
Into many pieces,
The few I bleed everyday when I wake up,
Onto the side of the bed,
You are not here,
I plunge myself into oblivion,
The brothels sometimes hear my stories,
For my mind knows those bodies aren’t you,
This wretched vessel still needs a beating heart,
A touch not even remotely close to as yours,
My eyes deceive me often,
And I see myself falling into abyss,
Every time a figure resembling you,
Touches me, comes even close,
For a sweet serenade the night sings,
I hold onto strangers,
They kill me softly,
And I close my eyes,
As breath becomes my only enemy,
The other side of my bed,
The only side of my bed……..

Woman enjoying foggy mountain morning from the hotel of Sa Pa, Vietnam

Lonely Nights

I fear lonely nights,
The grey moon that sometimes mocks me,
He has his Earth,
The land to his eclipses,
The haunting wind that disturbs the peace of sleeping villages,
Crawls under my skin,
It seems as if it is an object of habit,
The rigid discipline it pertains itself to,
Up and down below my chest,
It dances even on nights when the moon hides away,
And on days perturbed by jetstreams cold,
I walk through graveyard of my kind self,
The one trampled upon by anyone who made an appearance,
My pigmented, rustic slate,
Once pristine, welcoming to all,
I fear lonely lights,
And the days that come after it,
For night passes with a gleaming monotony,
An affair of eclectic proportions,
And births the day my heart is no stranger to,
The screeching, growl I am used to,
A humming in my ears,
An ecstasy of similar kind,
The one weightlessness might bring,
You know you won’t fall,
But want to,
I fear lonely nights,
The only constant…..

Grey

I cares the morning with my bare chest,
And lay it open for the birds to rest,
Their wings frozen from the jetstreams cold,
Stomachs growling for food,
For their mouths have remained dry,
Water became frost and fell as hail,

I dance in the sunlight and follow the dust,
The grains of sand that settle on my night stand,
Every morning though I shrug them off,
Some crystals enter my mouth,
My dreams sometimes keep it wide open,

I see the rainbows when it doesn’t rain,
For the water in my eyes clobber my vision,
And leak through crevices set sometimes in cement,
My faith was strong,
My love knew no bound,

The mystery this world is amazes me most of the times,
Sometimes possesses me with fears unknown,
Ugly, deranged and full of scars,
The truth is inevitable I tell myself,
For choice I rarely have,

I sing sometimes to the ghosts of my past,
The lovers those betrayed,
And the lovers that I did wrong,
They taught me many things,
Letting go off the sail once a while,
Sometimes guiding it through the atolls,

But I sometimes close my eyes,
And think of days when I would cry,
Hugging the pillow close to my mouth,
Barely breathing,
For a man must sometimes poke their subconscious,
It carries secrets deep within,
Only to see how far they have come,
The chipped skin on their feet,
The hair that had turned grey…..

More of you…

Take my hand,
And give me your all,
Close your eyes,
And see through mine,
The colors of the sky,
The warmth of the Sun,
The buzzing of the bees,
Working hard to gather nectar sweet,
For them, the others and us,
A little of the dirt,
That had escaped my hands,
Sands on the beach,
The shells that are no more,
Take my hand,
And take it all,
Whatever I have left,
The little of my being,
And the more of you,
The little of me,
And the more of you…..

Seasons…

I know it can be difficult,
The Mornings don’t please you much,
The nights are darker than before,
It takes too much effort to move,
And your hands tremble on lifting your bags,
The winds whoosh past you,
The trees do not move,
You close your eyes and see those,
The ones lost to time and circumstances strange,
Hold on to the memories sweet,
The nectar of years that amalgamate with your skin,
And create a scent that will last for eternities,
As you remember them,
Their voice and the way they moved,
It will be easy someday,
I have heard time heals most of the scars,
Cry for long as long as it clears your heart,
Crystal, glass and transparent as before,
And you let someone again inside your heart,
For love will find you and heal you,
It will be all worth someday,
It will be easy someday,
I promise as I hold your hands,
And we walk through the gardens wilted due to cold,
The Season shall change soon….

Symphonies of a curious mind

With excitement that knows no bounds, I present to you my first book.
The beautiful cover has been designed by my younger brother @kumar.shrey95 who has adorned this hard work of mine with his art.
This book is the result of endless sleepless nights and my thoughts that have come to me over the years.
Symphonies of a Curious Mind will be my first book and I need all of your support and blessings for the same.
Coming this 2020.
Thank you.

Memory…..

I collect ages in my eyes,
The slow songs Autumn plays,
Whenever this wretched heart of mine,
Weeps for you,
I surreptitiously etch the days of my glory on the veins my father cast in gold,
On himself, the house, the kisses he gave me each night,
For him I am his biggest reward,
He tells me each day,
This mind becomes a grinder of sorts,
Memories that bring me smiles,
Of places, the faces lost and that stayed,
Behemoth it becomes and takes over my body,
Sometimes when I lay in the sand,
The cold water of the ocean washes my feet,
Heals the wounds that kilometres brought me,
The messages that never reached me, 
The things I could never say,
Nature sings a lullaby to me,
I am her son lost to the routine,
I seldom close my eyes,
For I want to become redundant,
Impractical, impatient, ignorant,
As I become weak,
For someone to carry me,
But I beam of sunlights when darkness dissolves my being,
My mother she brought me food that she couldn’t eat,
Bruised and still working till her breath,
I collect everything in my eyes,
My memory rarely eludes me,
The firsts, the birthdays and the lasts,
It’s satanic and angelic,
The two sides of a coin,
And as I creep towards the things still not in shape,
I talk and pull myself together,
My memory becomes my biggest weapon,
And the partner that helps me craft poetries sublime,
Makes me smile again,
Live that moment once again,
And I etch it on paper,
The ink it bleeds for me,
The hues of skies,
That day,
And I become one with myself,
The memories rarely eludes me……