The Imbalance

Slog for some
born to live it.

Each day whimpers
daily smiles somewhere.

Childless for years
abundance in succession.

Involved parenting
midst selfish helpings.

Steady fixes
frequent break-ups.

Corporate hotshots making it even
earnings enough to survive odd nights.

Politically correct statements
scripted speeches of labor.

Changeable clothing
color of perseverance.

Patches as fashion
sweat marks as style.

Tainted shades
painted scars.

Short cuts to fun
long roads to bliss.

Pools of love
desert of emptiness.

Number of choices
Ah! the only option.

Numerous sky-scrapers
on roadside dwellings.   

Waterfalls of ignorance
bank of knowledge.

Corridors of enmity yes
a thicket of friendships.

Selfish prayers
devoted thanksgivings.

O Lord, O snatcher
O God, O giver.

O Hair!

Wet hair dripped every inch of her

parts of her sensuality & part sober
rested on shoulders of familiarity
caressing her skin as if not guilty.

Their guilt was to flow free from bounds
when dry they shook men from firm grounds
kissing the wind like lovers do
entangled as one like a duo.

Fragile fingers still held them 
time to time brushing hems
sealed in was a story
minus a hint of fury.

Braid & all is a mystery
color & its a new glory
clip & they would bounce
shorten & there was a dance.

Every year it was a new song
hairdos could go wrong
but who was to care
hair gave in to the dare.

Nestled in the roots of wisdom
they waited their fate of doom
shining in oily clothes
grey strands sailed minus aches.

(her - women in general)

Crossovers

Feeble eyes held clear memories of childhood
back then wishes were to grow up at any expense
and eke a life of freedom & rich livelihood
not knowing then old age pushes one to dependence.

Years rolled and buds bloomed
each Spring it was a new moon
knocking on doors of youth that consumed
all the glory which disappeared soon.

Lustful overtures rode high
plucking of fresh leaves made way
gardens of beauty got sighs
pushing protective fathers to keep their daughters away.

Objects of affections with tiny hands
filled corners with their beings
just in a blink those innocent rants
turned into parents themselves from ceremonial flings.

Cycles of lives were such 
corporate hierarchies were a must
phases as if having a Midas touch
every time rechristened faiths that never could rust.

In hometowns or across cities/countries
living it up became the style
odds or even midst opportunities 
music of life made humans able.

Fruits of labor they say take time
seasons came & went but hope remained
relationships or businesses chimed in
when positive results were the only aims.

In the end from nothing to something
be it in love or life O yes O Lord
from something to everything
were crossovers with Godly chords.

Unstoppable

Unannounced footsteps of hope
Glowed in the little corners of shadows
Pulling all out with an invisible rope
Leaving it all aglow.

Illumined souls rejoice in harmony
After all its a road so beautiful
Once on it its a drug of sanctimony
That one pops spoonful.

Seduced by kiss of faith
Bandits of purity stole glances
Tangled in threads of zeniths
That thickened with sweet advances

A step forward into free flowing depths
Each minute strangers turned into purposeful folds
Of life stretching to undefinable lengths
That none could have a hold.

Vibes

Slowly crept forward that tiny hesitation
Hidden in the little valley of security
All this time it finally felt free to titillation
Not knowing it was a step towards ecstasy.

Layers peel on their own 
Each move has a new bloom
That has no voice yet take away yawns
And surge spirits erasing gloom.

Its heard a good one bridges distances
With an aura so pure
Lasting impressions make instances 
Whose only job is to nurture.

Negativity defines a bad vibe
Friendliness takes a backseat
All is dark and nothing jives
As each encounter is a threat.

Filling or emptying oneself is a choice
Celebrating life in the presence of both
Opens doors to prudence
Thus etching a picture of depth.

Dance of Love ...

Lights flickered just like heartbeats
Meek wasn't the will to feel it all
Aglow in the beautiful feats
Of passion it seemed it was worth the fall.

A touch of faith takes away the pain
Living each moment again & again
Warming vacant spaces that were plain
Footprints of love that never could go vain.

It all came alive in the heat of unity
Stroking life in each of its proximate escapades
A kiss here & a caress there in its beauty
Lowered inhibitions of decades.

Flowing into each other as one
Masks there were none
Flourishing into a blissful tone
Thus nourishing each other when done.

Rumor has it ...

Beads of sweat would replace gold
If one to sit on their laurels for a long time.

Rumor has it...

Initiatives of development on false words
To emerge winners as conscience to nosedive.

Rumor has it...

Politics to be the next best friend for citizens
Politically correct statements to make waves.

Rumor has it...

Women to come with a manual
Men to concoct a theory to understand them.

Rumor has it...

On survival grounds elites to shake hands with the poor
Looking up to them to be the next fashion trend.

Rumor has it...

Gadgets to replace humans
They are to be the next best 24*7 availability options.

Rumor has it...

Life to be produced in capsules
Fresh air & walks to turn redundant.

Rumor has it...

Money & God to be worshiped
Love & Devotion to be calculators of profit & loss.

Rumor has it.

Winds of Change ..

The dance was not new
in the wind of bliss so full
leaves of greenery shone with dew
in the early hours beautifying the lull.

Clouds caressed the sky gently
soundlessly too to set the rhythm
of romance which was dormant willingly
till the wetness of the Earth was the only anthem.

Daybreak too glowed in the lightning 
as it spread its wings on the dark patches
of land & life giving it all a thunderous beating
that had nothing but good intentions.

Soaked in the beauty of nature
it all was an arresting sight
where his heavenly hand was the cure
and monotony got a new light.

A chirp there and a song here
birds too flapped in unity 
making the whole place a hub of care
in its pleasantness & adversity.

The continuous flow of his blessings
camouflaged the day into magic
dry & humid spells as dressings
disappeared in thin air making it all exotic.

All it takes is a little faith
tables turn & things change
for a moment or more discarding myths
Weather Gods ALWAYS transform the dark image.

Flesh Trade: victims of fate

The breath choked at the lid

so tight in the lane of nightmares
every day was more like a bid
sealing their fates to newer stares.

A little stitch in time was a far cry
as souls had ruptured countless times
thrusts of love they were not but a try
to give vents to unsatisfied libidos on paid dimes.

Bodies were not respected but played
teased, hit and hurt by many 
and it became all so mundane that it all stayed
on their souls as scars that were ugly. 

In his kingdom full of cruelty
eyes raped those unfortunate mortals each minute
and some sons full of duality
undressed them as they had no repute.

Mothers to some, these daughters of fate
couldn't cleanse the tag that followed them to graves 
revered they were not but only meant to mate
scarring their offspring at life's gates.

They too have a heart 
and zeal to survive 
who carry the angst of God's art
that smeared only filth on their lives.

The little one can do is accept
sans judgments or rebukes
and let them breathe without giving receipts 
of their characters so they could dwell peacefully in life's lake.

An Odyssey ...

Have I come too far?
From the very own bar
That held me and left ajar
The pieces that leave no scar.

Lying is the dust of memories
Shining & grey in their territories
Some burnt some anew with victories
Flagging off the mast of histories.

Day & Night a phenomena of surety
Bringeth a flow of purity
Till its not touched with duality
Of mind & spirit marring its beauty.

Stare not as its a loving gaze
Look within and its all a craze
Hidden yet so open in the haze
That only the reader can lead it all to a blaze. 

A Handicapped Heart!

He loved the distant memory of closeness
cupped in the crevices of his skin so tender
aching each time to a new low whenever a stranger killed its finesse
pushing him to cling to its beauty forever.

Intimacy, a beautiful monopoly to feel it all
where words and expressions simply died as his body whispered 
a story so mystic and so awfully tall
that visions of imagination  in his old age left him assured.

Living in the cage of his desire that was eclipsed by illnesses
he set his eyes each time she greeted him with routine 
dutifully caring & undressing him with a bout of aloofness
as for her it was nothing but a phase of quarantine. 

Clutched by the uncertainty of fate
the ageing walls did paralyze his movement
tricking him every day at life's gate
but for him her numbered presence didn’t ever disappoint.

Bedridden but so alive in her being
his poor heart galloped into songs
pushing him deeper & deeper thus lifting
every inch of him into bliss that had no endings.

Men: hello goodies!

He eyes the one who is meant to be
Fondling his thoughts a little more for longevity
Love is the destination for this one woman man to see
It was all worth a chase for a beautiful painting of destiny.

The one with a warm embrace takes all the pain away
Soothing the insides  protectively when the shoulders engage
Daily checking on his produce for a visual treat that's far from grey
Till night comes to kiss goodnight thus releasing his children's ache.

He watches every move you make
Sibling fights are nothing but acts of care
There always when needed and so close to hate
If he learns that his sisters are objects of gaze.

The buddy in him is the best to offer
A bond so deep that spouses may dread
Lovable yet so irritating it all could occur
He can be family one need not shred.

O mentors! Closer to hell
Upset them and one is dead
Scrutinizing every detail with rebuke
That actually chisels you to your best.

A responsible son is all of the above
Nurturing & learning all the way
In the journey of life so tough
That he is a reward so precious and gay.

Child Labor: little ironies ...

Eyes full of dreams laden with grief
Taking steps each day that were brief
It's a childhood so not innocent with a belief
Yes one fine day it would all be a relief.

Small hands meant for holding toys
Are working like grown up girls/boys
Focusing only to earn a morsel
Fully enraging them to burn life's vessel.

Playgrounds are not their destiny
It's a turf of God's villainy
Where their stars are far from shiny
Pushing them with resources so tiny.

Lives fortunate enough to be alive yet so dead
Breathing life with a disease congesting their heads
These little angels shirk away demons so ruthless
With a tough fight each day that leave them almost breathless.

Why not all of us be those merciful humans?
And give them a chance to be artisans
Of their future that would be like oceans
That help them sail with best of plans.

Hello Virtuosity & Social Media,

You own a place in a human's life as its very easy to access the net and be a part of moments people so lovingly share on platforms like Facebook, Pinterest, WhatsApp etc.

Promises happen, events are inked for presence that lead to no showing up on D-days. Its very easy & convenient to mark a presence to add on to the number of likes one gets. The ego gets a boost to a lukewarm attendance when all one needs is a familiar face in the crowd.

We brew our acknowledgement from a distance yes. There to dazzle a star in his or her achievements. Worlds are colored with a splash of comments emanating deep emotions that touch the heart.

Show up & all one witnesses uncomfortable silences or conversations that get lost in barge-ins of social media tools. Free flowing & undisturbed talks are the things of the past, thanks to you :).

Forever ...

A beautiful lie you are baby

raising the bar of hope for lovers

and also lowering spirits in the ill-fated lobby

of souls who are nothing but relentless grievers.

Munchkins grown old remain kids

for the parental stock that has no expiry dates

but a favorite concept you are for their eyelids

come what may yes for them it all just inflates.

An illusion so elusive in the dictionary

all of misery & friendship that surges & shrinks

in its glory cause change which is so customary

challenges even the political decks.

Rejoice still as all is not lost

let’s work instead towards a moment that lasts till it can

as life is the best form of boost

any human should always fan.

Basant Panchami..

O eyes sparkled to a new glow
In the lap of the yellow hue of bliss
Fortifying each particle of life so anew
As if it was nothing but nature's best kiss.

Smells of freshness spread its wings wide
Filling pockets of life to another threshold of activity
That soared the heart to an eclectic tide
Flowing back & forth in indefinable gaiety.

Days come & go but you hold your own
Every time guiding the spirit of fortitude
To blend beautifully that none can disown
but adapt to its gentle & serene quietude.

Who Are We To Judge???

The predicament of security and a place in a man's world seems hangs loose yet again. Its a wait of eternity or a loony thought of sabotage who knows. 

A girl cannot be alone for onlookers or world is it? It should not be a heinous crime. Either the society sees her as an alien or the biggest misfit in the colossal network of society where couples, friends and family hang out together. Oh maybe she is not dating or dumped? Or waiting for her better half or just having a lone time as family expects her to be in school or office so she escaped early to be where she is? Each move is monitored. Observation is different from judging hell yes.

Within minutes she is the cynosure of all eyes of intrigue, mockery, eve teasing, judgments & more. Attire, body language, accessories are questioned verbally or subconsciously.

Why isn't a man ever questioned for his solitary outing? As a society are we helping our species or creating roadblocks that is one question each one of us should ask. Each girl deserves a care free moment of will at a place of her choice.

Cheers!

Sip by sip chilling the insides 

desires take a new turn

not one but in all of the sides

one could feel a blissful burn.

Tongues needed no facelift 

as eyes do the talking

raising a toast so swift

only boozers were rocking.

To each his own twas a gamble

laid out in the open so raw

totally submerging to a mumble 

that few could draw.

Celebration or a turf of gloom

alcohol seems is the answer for loony tunes

filling their soulful glasses of doom

which critics curse as if they are misfortunes.

It makes one beg borrow or steal

for a neverending fix of chums

corporate or simply a friendly deal

then none can turn down this heavenly mix for gums.

All is not lost if taken under control

cause Samaritans its a boon for health

so lets take it right to make it roll

Cheer it up yes so it can increase life's length.

Revolutionary Pedaling …

Getting in the groove of spokes

the wind blew away jokes

of life that teased the blokes

so overloaded with useless cloaks.

Cycling away blues of the past

commuters ran in the mast

of gay abandon with a cast

that enthralled the internal and obvious audience so vast.

Landscapes and milestones sketch pictures

on minds filled with overtures

lying on the dermis of conjectures

caused by timely bumping into godly creatures.

Riding with the desire of good health

mostly grooms mental wealth

of ideas propelling less of filth

and maybe more for good of commonwealth.

Going green has its perks

for wheels full of monetary jerks

thus lowering worries of high paid clerks

so lets save neighborhoods & its people from going berserk.

Corporate Tuning ...

The strumming of the strings evokes music for the ears. The tune depends on the way one plays them. A two way game of both hands hence the age-old adage holds true that two is company when churning out a rhythm. The guitar delicate yet powerful holds its own once played to emit a jingle to enthuse a sense of harmony, fulfillment and cheer.  The right fixing up of the nylon or steel strings conjures the melody of choice. The guitarist is the sole nurturer and creator to make it a masterpiece or a flawed piece of art. It turns out to be a musical boom or just noise for the ears depends fully on its creativity. It takes a lot of time and effort to induce the best mix. It demands a lot of hard work, learning, experimentation and perseverance for the desired composition. Hours of labor can go wrong or beautify simply. The finger-picking technique on the instrument is the key so that the tune is developed for mass appeal.

Likewise, an amateur or a trainee or fresher is just like the guitar in the hands of a leader or a manager of any firm or organization. The makings of that human are understood post interaction and working closely. The guitarist aka trainer, leader/manager/CEO knowing the key skills of the respective individual may weave or mar the abilities. The person of authority reaps the dividends by touching the right strings to perfection if done selflessly. It’s like playing the untamed, untrained, immature cards well to achievement. It’s an assortment of exposing different moods of melody to the world.  The apt exposure on the corporate turf rings in the triumph one so deserves, post a guiding push from the senior or stalwart of experience.  Melodious songs are remembered more cause of its composition, style of presentation and approach. The individual eventually shapes up for overall good of the conglomerate nucleus. Pull him/her down or chisel the abled strings, is the choice everyone has each passing minute of our lives.