Each good thought Of mine Is a rainbow-beauty

Thoughts drop in
like Ripples in the ocean
Forever  flowing

Slipping away
Changing shapes at will
moving in a zigzag manner

These thoughts are beyond my grasp
But surprisingly within my reach
Teasing and tantalizing

Bubbling at times
Raging when it pleases

I stone-wall it
keep the flow under-restriction
But it rises above

And flows over
Defiant and rebellious
Giggling  with laughter

Standing in the middle of the plains With snowflakes on my head

Ocean of love flowing peacefullyStanding by my side, the man I know

When he hold me in his arms The sun goes down

But whenever I open my eyes I found myself alone Scared of the dark and no one to hold

I have a question for youDoes the dream ever come true?

There is a part in me

That feels I am different from everybody.

 Something that they can’t see,

Something that they can’t feel,

Something so unreal.

But this ‘thing’ has always been there,

This ‘thing’ I will never share.

So I have made it a habbit of Pushing it to the back of my mind,

Among the thoughts of boys and clothes

And make-up, this ‘thing’ always find its cozy corner

Whatever has caused this feeling

Must have been so disgusting and bad.

A lost memory or something else,

Whatever the THING is,

I know for sure, I

 can never let this feeling show.

I am growing like a blooming rose.

I can see the hope in its petals.

The innocence of the red color is screaming –“As long as I am, I will be”.

I know that the rose will never wilt or die.

As my life may grow backwards, I shall become strong.

I shall be dependent on only one.

That one will be me.

I may rise with my petals high.

I do not dream to be a pick of the patch, but I am just as beautiful as the rest.

I will never be a lonely soul but shall always stand as ONE

When I was a little girl I used to look in the mirror

Did not have a clue who was there

As I grew up using kohl everyday The girl in the mirror seemed to change

As time passed there was not always a mirror so I gazed at the 100 rose’s bouquet

Years later when I looked at the mirror To see my real self, to feel the momentary zephyr

I found the mirror had always been there wrinkled though Reflecting the real me, the same me straight as an arrow.

 He sketches a few irregular lines on the paper. Swiftly he drafts black streaks on the white paper I was watching this creative genius from a distance. He is an artist. I have known him since I was 9 years old but today his creation started taking the shape of a beautiful face. Quietly he was outlining the long straight black hair. The half done portrait was beautiful just like an angel.  “Who is the lucky girl, I asked?” He gives me one of his best smiles and continues working on the sketch. It felt like am being a witness to someone’s birth in slow motion. The moment was enchanting. Her eyes took the longest time. He was very patient in completing them. The eyes seemed familiar and now the portrait too. He might not have succeeded in getting his girl but he remained a gifted artist as he was before. She doesn’t know what she gave up.

One fine morning my friend ditches me The other day the girl turns into a zombie

Strange but true !!

 Life has taken an ugly turn In the shelter of the local slattern

Strange but true !!

Mornings are filled with a streak of pink He is wrapped in a satin Hoodwink

Strange but true !!

Stuck in a dark-age of idiots Feels like patting the whippets

Strange but true !!

Too many things to do Always rebelling against this over hyped milieu

Strange but true !!

The day is not farWhen to my rescue will stand the sandbar

Strange but true !!

AM sitting beside the  window 
with a string of lovely balloons in my hand.

 Yellow, Green and Red,Pleasant is the moment.A pleasant tune I hum as the breeze blows. A string of lovely balloons in my hand ….