Task of the day

Certainly, there must be something

which we ought to do today.

Don’t want to miss that, do we?

Let’s name it, task of the day.

But how to learn about it every day

for there are 100s of task we think and say.

Perhaps that is intentional to avoid complacency.

Perhaps most tasks are for some or the other day.

The question then arises, which one to do and which one to delay?

Let’s meet Situation, our ever present guest to stay.

Before bed, how would we know if it was a perfect day?

Don’t ask others, just look at your tomorrow’s task of the day.

Absent minded

Words do fall but sound different

to the ears of those few

who are absent in the present

but present in their oblivion.

Oblivion, where they are busy

turning it into something they believe in.

Let them be there,

where very few dare

to stay long after being called.

Absent minded may not be flawed.

Significant ‘s End


And it kept spinning while everything stood still,

for a brief period sound went mute.

Every insignificant became bright

due to the light of reminiscence.

Cluster of calls from a time now gone

was the only thing audible.

An event that occurs at the done

and thankful I shall be, forever.

A life which seemed long till then,

seemed shorter than ever

as memories kept spinning here and there.

Yes, it became a memory to care.

The cursed art


The art or curse of overthinking

is a flabbergasting avenue.

Introduces to the ridiculous

in which we sometimes find the new

but at the cost of walking through

some of the darkest alleys.

Source of some of the best stories,

Overthinking really does feel

the way it is right now.

Try and stop me

Process of ache

At the outset it feels like a sting

where the needle is slowly piercing the flesh.

With time it gets attached to our skin

and slowly helps blood to drip,

when to bandage is circumstantial.

Later, we allow it to stay

where it remains extruded for others to see.

and tells the gazer of our triumphs,

Let it be, let it be.

One day we again get back up

and mould our muscles to set our minds free.

The needle fails to pierce further,

the once punctured muscle is now resilient

and pushes the needle out of our body.

The drop is completely silent.

All that remains is one tiny hole

on the body of someone who is now whole.

Needles remind us that we are alive.

Who hurt you?

Trails of tears read a story

whose ending was not wished.

Some are dark, some light,

some faded, while some not visible,

Yet, everyone carries one.

They tell you about the person

who is and not was.

Comprises of the lesson

linked forever to their heart.

Trails of tears always last.

Who hurt you, doesn’t matter.

They are from days past.

No, I haven’t forgotten

Yes, it has been a while since I stopped hiding behind rhymed verses and connected with the world. When I say the world, I also mean Me.

A lot can be said about the year 2020. It started off with so much energy and motivation and goals and dreams but then everything just became that. The whole world became one under attack and has been fighting against this ungodly virus ever since.

We will triumph one day. We always have and we always will.

But enough about the sadness and negativity of 2020. There is plenty of that going around. Let us take a few minutes and realise the good side of 2020. We connected with ourselves and our loved ones. We came home.

Well, not all but yeah many did. I, myself, have not visited my home since last year Oct. It’s been over an year since I saw my family and it is hard tbh. But it is also necessary, for their safety.

Don’t worry, I will power through. I always have and I always will.

While I have been battling this pandemic alone, it would be unfair to recognise the ones who are here. My friends have been by my side since day 1 and we all have become a family here. We take care of each other.

See that is the thing. Humans are good at taking care of others but not of themselves. Maybe it because of evolution, maybe not. Who knows…who cares.

Another who has been standing right next to me and keeping me sane and safe is, you guys! (My blog).

Every time I couldn’t sleep or had rough days, The Poet and the Pen allowed me to vent it all out to a crowd who was listening without even knowing. Thank you for listening.

We write and share and create because this is who we are. We were born to create and not just observe. Every time a Poet pens down a Poem or every time a painter paints out of imagination or every time a cook makes a food from heart or any time any creative person does something which isn’t there in the world, We add something to this long legacy called Humanity.

No, I haven’t forgotten you…Poetry. I love you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for being with me all this while. I am certain, I would not have been here if it wasn’t for you. This is my letter to you…

Allowing the concealment of virtues and sins

and creating a different world altogether.

World of rhymed lanes and paragraphed cities

where many dwell and become better,

O’Poetry, you jumbled veracity

Love is what I hold for you.

Love, your innate emotion.

Hope you’ll allow me to be with you

and write stories about my stories

in the perfectly stacked lyrical format.

Poetry is to a Poet what air is to a Poet.

Let’s continue walking together.

I believe, we are all given certain gifts and that it is our duty to use that gift for creating a better world. I hope mine is Poetry. I hope you find yours too. One day I hope we all can celebrate the real me and you.

No, I haven’t forgotten you.

धुंदली हस्सी

वह हस्सी अब धुंदली दिखती है,
जिस पर मुझे नाज़ हुआ करता था…

आँखे भी अब कहा सच देखती है,
सच न जाने क्या हुआ करता था…

जब रौशनी गिरती है चेहरे पे,
उसके पीछे का अँधेरा ज्यादा दिखता है…

सुबह का सूरज नया दिन नहीं लाता,
रात की नींद दिन में मिलती है…

फिर भी यह दुनिया चलती है.
और चलना भी चाइये, क्युकि सही है.

बस एक बार यह धुंधलापन मिट जाये,
वह हस्सी यही कही छिपी है.


While it felt like being let go

by the hand holders of past,

little did I know that

I was being pulled forward at last

by those who would become my everything.

Least expected ones make up for most.

Separation from the old does hurt

but only for a while till the void remains.

Today I know those whom I can trust

and call them whenever it pains

only to know that they will not only listen

but make it go away.

I hope these ones do stay.

I also know that none lasts forever

and that itself is the dare.

It’s all about learning from the one who is here

and later allowing them to pass but love and care

because life is only as long as that dare.

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