AN INDEPENDENT THOUGHT

White pages turn yellow, Dark blue fades to light, But what remains free and young, Is an independent thought’s flight.

ROOTS AND LEAVES

They bow their heads and scream in sleep, They wait for the night and then they dream. They do not dream for themselves. Will never do, They dream for their future, their children, And any other dream ceases to exist, to make this one true. And then the sun comes, and brings light again. Their

BALLOONS

The car screeched stop at the sight of red at the traffic signal and as usual all the eyes stopped on it, with it. It was an expensive car, not one you would expect the owner himself to drive, but here he was. The richest man in town, with his wife seated next to him

WHAT ARE WE?

What are we, but a news to others, To those whom we don’t know, To those who do not know us. What are we, but a news to them, Who see the flowers and not the stem. You may be or you may not be, A part of someone’s evening tea. You may know or

THE TRAPPED SONG

(note: the mask mentioned in the poem below are not actual masks used to protect us from the virus, but metaphorical ones…just thought I should mention) Behind all the masks they wear, Lie people broken beyond repair. Their body is working, but soul is shattered, As if the words are together, but letters are scattered.

THE BROKEN MAN

The pieces of a broken man Lay scattered in his home. He broke because of the burden, the burden of secrets, Which he was being forced to carry to his tomb. He sits back and thinks for long. Thinks for long and wonders. He questions if carrying all this weight made him any strong, And

A COMPLIMENT

“That’s a beautiful thought.”, she said. “That’s a beautiful compliment.”, he thought.

A PURE LAUGH

I call to you oh creation! And also plead for a little appreciation, As I ask a question I have in mind, Because these are words I just can’t bind. For when did you last hear a pure laugh? One without a purpose, one without a scarf? “Why a scarf ?” you ask to me,

SNAP! FLASH! CLICK!

SNAP! The camera lights turned him blind, a mere kid of age 3, What did he eat and what did he wear is all the public wants to see. Somewhere in the dark shadows of the world a boy of the same age fights, Fights for food, fights for clothes, fights for basic rights. The

THE SUN, THE MOON AND BEAUTY AT ITS BEST

Why do we call the moon beautiful, When all it does is steal the light of the sun? It does not burn everyday for the sake of us, Yet the humans it manages to stun. The humans, who can never realize the true meaning of beauty, Who do not realize that beauty doesn’t lie in