The Harbingers of Joy

Across the streams of livelihood
With silent wings by the side,
Slides the simple creature
Into the passage of time.

An accidental glance at the beholder’s plight,
Ends a spell of perennial drought.
And showers incessant droplets,
Completing the loop with another naught.

As the nature prides itself
With riches out of one’s way,
Oblivious is the harbinger,
Who is just drifting through another day.

My Tattered Shoes

I was given a pair of shoes as a gift.
For me, they were a perfect fit.
A new found happiness for a child unrestrained,
Rejoicing and dancing, as if heavens just rained.

Adorned they were by a few holes in them,
From where the colors of sunshine peeped in.
Uncomely they were for the eyes outside.
But for me, they were nothing less than true pride.

I could walk anyway I wanted
Ebullient, I was the least daunted.
But those shoes, they defied society’s yardstick.
And so I discarded them for a “fancy” pick.

I walked the way I was taught.
Even when I was clearly fraught.
My countenance did betray the thoughts within.
But I was not the one to give in.

Following a toy soldier, I tried to stand undefeated.
Carrying the load I was clearly heat treated.
But never did I lose my sangfroid.
Even when I was awfully annoyed.

But now after all these civilized years,
And all these unperturbed tears,
I yearn for those tattered shoes,
Which aptly taught me the ones and twos.

So when you see my composure wail,
Or when my steps are frigid and frail,
Remind me of my tattered shoes,
And I’ll be dancing and singing the blues.
‘Cause I’m sure I can pay all my dues
When I’m truly in my own tattered shoes.

Innocence Defeated Again!

clueless

I saw him walking the same road
Like creepers climbing the tall trees.
Feeling the sky getting closer,
Feeling the highly alluring breeze.

The same alluring breeze
Was playing the treacherous trick.
The scintillating aroma,
With layers so slick.

Along that superficial road
Were all the hypnotic eyes waiting.
Their sly vision never blurred,
As his android feet were moving.

His enervated body
Thirsty for a drop of the potion,
Just followed the wind.
Oh! That wonderful notion!

But little did he know
About this aspect of life.
Simulating a happy surprise,
Stabbing with a sharp knife.

Collecting all my might,
I screamed at him.
“Listen to me buddy!
Don’t submit to your whim”.

A voice from behind me,
Chuckled calmly in my ears.
“You know he can’t hear you.
Let him face his fears”.

I looked at my mouth zipped,
As the innocent died.
Once again we had won.
Once again a monster would rise!

They Miss You!

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That big old tree with twisted branches,
Which once held you tight when you swung.
That room of yours where no one passes,
Which saw your first paintings hung.

Those arrogant little squirrels,
Whom you chased on your four.
That aura created by your giggles,
Which used to smile and ask for more.

Those swollen walls with greenish texture,
Which used to shine by your absurd scribblings.
That abandoned corner of the terrace,
Which silently shared your crudest feelings.

Miss you a lot, these innocent things.
Need you a lot, these silent things.
Come back and pay them a visit
Coz sometimes they can do
What people won’t do.

That Cute Kid!

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Yesterday, while I was lying around,
An old photograph of a cute kid I found.
He was smiling with arms open wide.
A new found happiness he couldn’t hide.
He had a glowing face & sparkling eyes.
The gesture was true without any disguise.

I brought the picture closer.
The kid did look familiar.
He had the same eyes and the same smile.
But I hadn’t seen that look in a while.
I wondered why he isn’t around.
Lost within me, he just couldn’t be found.

That kid had made me nostalgic.
Leaving me with thoughts so ironic.
Like pain for him is strictly physical.
And little happiness is magical.
Ego is a word he doesn’t even know.
Deep down, I don’t want him to grow.

Well! I kept the picture back & sighed.
There was a smile on my face I couldn’t hide.
That kid, I knew is deep within me.
He is someone I still want to be.
Then, a friend came in and asked – “Who is he?”
Proudly, I replied – “It is someone I used to be.”