The Storm


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I stayed away from the pen,
I shunned all the books,
Stopped feeding my demons,
Dying each day in their fire.

I picked myself up,
And took one day at a time,
My blood gushed with resolve,
To lament no more.

I shed my tired skin,
Let go of the excess baggage,
Gave life a fair shot,
And welcomed the new dawn.

Mythical blessings were nowhere,
None of the delusional lies,
I fell in love with my present,
In spite of all the spite.

A year has since passed,
That girl is long gone,
A woman pens this down instead,
Enlightened after the storm.

A Bit of Me


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After all this time,
And after all these years,
I feel possessed,
By the spirit of the wanderer.

Ever so often in the breeze,
I smell the scent of the sea,
I feel the rays of the sun,
In a city unlike my own.

A picture pulls my mind,
Into its blue blue waters,
The depth of the landscape,
And all I want now, is an escape.

I’d live in an image,
I’d breathe in the air,
The smell of the earth,
In a city, not my own.

Packed bags just sit waiting,
Tired feet waiting to walk,
A mind starved of new thoughts,
Life, just waiting on itself.

And so I collect these pictures,
Pretty pictures of places yet to see,
Of people yet to meet,
And a lil bit of me, yet to know.

All this wrapped up in a bundle,
I set out to see,
To live in my here and now,
And find the missing bit of me.

This Journey, The Fight.


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I’ve circled back,
To this moment again,
Rooted to this spot,
Waiting in vain.

Your eyes are shut tight,
You’re struggling to remember,
I look at you and miss,
That grey and dark November.

Such change is here,
Such distances are near,
The comfort of your words,
Has made way for its own fear.

Yes its the same story,
It is yet again, retold,
In silence we strive,
To smile in a life so cold.

It’s journey we’re meant to live,
Of stoic faith and solid hope,
It’s a test of courage,
Like when lovers elope.

At the end, sits a reality,
Meant only for the worthy,
Who’ve done their time,
Renounced pleasure, worldly.

It’s this life, here, right now,
Peace, quiet, and love  is all,
That’s left at the end of the fight,
To the finish line, even if you crawl.

The Thunderbird 500


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The newest addition to the family, Royal Enfield’s Thunderbird 500. Simply majestic! So after a good long wait, brother dearest finally has his hands on the finest craftsmanship in vintage classic motorcycles. The Thunderbird 500 is SOMETHING ELSE!!! For the rider, it is nothing short of a love that will make you forget every heartbreak. For the pillion, its the unparalleled pride of being a part of the Enfield journey. For me, its both!

Here’s to many many long rides of adventure and discovery!

Without You


Without You

What do I need from you,
Nothing much I guess,
Except perhaps a look,
Making me a mess.

What could I ask for,
What have you not given,
May just be a chance,
To forgive and be forgiven.

What can I possibly now say,
See, I’ve been around a while,
But I’m still looking for something,
That can just like that, make me smile.

Even now, when all is but over,
I just don’t know what to give,
To make us more beautiful,
That call out to us, to live.

What is still missing.
Between you and I,
That poems must remain,
The way you look in my eyes.

I don’t know what to say,
I don’t know what to do,
All I know, my love, is that,
Something’s missing, without you.

Forget, Once In A While.


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And we live on every day,
Calling out to our inner truth,
Sometimes running away,
Just to see another day.

We struggle day after day,
Pulling the weight of the world,
Up along with us to new heights,
Half of ourselves survives the day.

But then a memory creates itself,
A smile spreads  to our fingers,
A rush goes through our heads,
And suddenly the days begin to sparkle.

Just walking along a beach,
With the sand kissing our feet,
Sun shining down on our faces,
And suddenly the weight lifts.

My shoulders are lighter,
Because I forgot for a while,
To pay the price of  material lies,
And breathe in my own life.

I jumped in the water,
Went in bruised, battered and dead,
The sea washed me ashore,
Alive, filled with marvel and surprise.

I challenged myself,
The truth that lies inside,
I came out stronger,
Because I chose to fight.

All this and more,
Are all a gift from life,
For remembering,
To forget once in a while.

Burning Up.


Photo Credits: Ajai Singh

Photo Credits: Ajai Singh

We’re running in a circle,
Faster and faster,
Losing a little each day,
And we burn.

We’re chasing our own tails,
Unaware of the price paid,
We forget a little each day,
And we burn.

We’re handing out our souls,
To earn our pound of flesh,
Playing with fire each day,
So we burn.

Where do we really want to go,
What are we really trying to get,
We’re lost in so many questions,
Elusive are the answers, so we burn.

We say this is the way of life,
But is it really what we’re living for?
We stumble at the hint of honesty,
And we burn.

Restless and tired on the inside,
Confident and  alive on the outside,
We tire ourselves with the charades,
Set ourselves on fire, and burn.

How alive are we when we forget to live,
Wound up in our petty lives,
Running these mad races,
Isn’t enough of us already burnt?

Do we remember the last time,
When we looked up at the sky,
Soaked in the sun, sand and sea,
Enjoyed the tingling of the sun’s burn?