Watching the world burn
from the highest mountain
with her wet eyes trickling down
all the anger she had
for this cruel world,
she pondered about the world she created,
about the creatures
she nurtured in this world,
how she loved all of them and wanted
everyone to love everyone.
But all her hopes she attached to this world
were in ashes just like the world was now.
She wondered why her creatures
hated each other,
especially the most superior of them all
the humans.
Yes, they were above all,
but not in love like she dreamed,
but in hate which she had never taught.
Sacrileges after sacrileges they committed
burnt lives one after other,
they were beyond any measures of bigotry
refusing rights to their own kind
manipulating their own species
and when their misanthrope reached the peak worst,
she decided the fate of her world
she being the God to these humans
turned her heart into stone,
changed her love into hate
but the pain remained same.
As she had to do what the best
for this planet was.
so she decided to punish her children
for horrendous blasphemies they committed,
destroyed her creation.
Not a single leaf of single tree remained unburnt,
and at the end
it was all null and void
just like her heart.



There she was struggling
with how to comfort her heart
which has been stabbed many times
both from front and back,
but instead of blood gushing,
it was sadness she was soaked with
and depression trying to strangle her
with its gloomy hands
and there was she, alone, struggling to heal that wound.

Struggling to fill that void.

There she was fighting,
for her emotions that
can anytime submerge in
ocean of sorrow,
to be able to give slight
tinge of glee to her soul which
was slowly forgetting
the feeling of happiness.
And she finally found the answer.
The precise way to fight back and to win.

She got her solution
in a pen and an empty paper
which were waiting patiently,
to be touched by her obscurity
waiting for her to bleed her depression out
to repaint her soul,  not with just joy
but with self satisfaction and comfort
which were ceased from her heart.
So, she wrote her gloom down,
scribbled about the glee she needs
scrawled about how a pen made her believe
that we are the author of our life and
we can change it anytime we want
and these verses are the proof.


As I loitered around those empty lanes ,
As I was lost in those silent boulevards,
I felt someone ,
I felt strange.
It came tip-toedly
and so quitefully,
it grasped me from behind,
it blocked me from every direction.
I kept on trying to get away with it,
I kept on fighting to loosen its grip.
Then, something about it strike my mind
many things about it intrigued my heart,
I felt he was no stranger,
a feeling of familiarity gushed in through my mind,
while it was tightening its grip,
I was pondering over countless options of who could it be.
It somewhat resembled my soul,
dark and so peaceful
but with some hues of blue
it was just like me
it carried something, which I carry with me.
And while I thought, he grasped,
finally revealing itself to be night,
dark with the tinge of blue,
black imbued with sorrows
so peaceful , yet so plundering,
so quiet , thus so thoughtful.
Then, night wrapped itself completely over my soul,
until they become one,
and at that moment, it felt soothing,
I felt powerful.
It gifted me with myriad of vivid thoughts,
I knew thoughts were my power,
And then, everything changed,
except the darkness.


It was month of October,

when leaves of autumn adorned the roads

and in between those beautiful golden lanes,

my eyes stumbled upon her.

She sitting on the bench

as if contemplating about her life

looking all engrossed in thoughts of other world,

made a quick eye contact and looked away,

ignoring my existence

and my eyes

capturing every detail of her face,

tripping over tiny bumps of her cheeks,

giving rise to a conflict between heart and brain,

between urge to talk to her and move ahead,

but me being a man of logic ,

walked ahead having all her particulars in memory,

and also urge to move back,

and grasp her thoughts,

undress them with my love,

hold them with my trust,

handle them with my care,

and know her all secrets,

and to unveil the demons she was hiding from this world,

from which she seemed scared of

to tell her about how

her silky hair gorgeously embellished her face

and how her eyes have charmed my soul

and how I was captivated by her serene frown,

and how badly

I wanted her to smile

but I moved ahead keeping this

love at first sight in my memories.

And now whenever I come across those lanes,

I reminisce that day

wishing her to be seated in that same bench,

so that I can make my first move

and break this endless shrieks of my regrets.