BAD DAY

A familiar cry of many at most times. It sounds like everyone has it some time or the other, just on a rough calculation at an average once in a fortnight.

I'm sure we don't actually get up thinking its a bad day. We just end up being judgmental by calling a precious, beautiful,24 hour day in our life a BAD DAY. A thought that would just end up making us think that the whole 1440 minutes is destined to gloom, gloom and some more gloom.

Such a pity that the day, which is same for every living and non living thing is simply considered bad day, because of ones mood and course of actions happening around him /her. And because of the result of their course of actions or of situations they completely blame an innocent being with amazing capabilities and attributes as bad. And not do they just call it bad, but also dwell in it and actually seem to enjoy it by simply christening the whole day bad.

Instead, i have a smart ( just like me) and a useful ( rather meaningful) suggestion, lets start living bad half days, bad hours, bad minutes or may be bad seconds. You know in that manner one would be considerate to the day and may be mentally have it in their head that the whole day is not that bad its just the few passing hours/ minutes/ seconds that are bad.

Ain't it a very positive approach :)

P.S: Though i never saw how you look on a bad day, you make me look pretty awful as i have my mind cluttered with thoughts thinking and hoping your day gets better.

Fuchsia Glow

Had a block in my head

Every color seemed blurred and mixed up

Like the painter’s palette, a messed up patch

Could not trace the hues & tints

But i knew all of them end up in black.

Walked out till I was at the top of the crooked steep street

Stood there looking down at the twists and turns it unveiled

The vastness of the city at its foot is covered with blinking lights

From the corner of my eye, I saw rays of neon lights rising in to the empty sky

They surely have a color, but for the moment they looked like fireflies

With squinched eyes, tried to trace the locus of their meeting, it was all haywire

It seemed familiar, as it was the state of my mind.

Stood color blinded in the middle of the street while it busted with energy and light

On hearing a loud giggle, was jolted out of my thought

That’s when I saw the color from one dimple to the other

It looked like the corners of her mouth are spreading their wings to touch the crescents

She walked past me soaking me in the halo that followed along

Standing there I saw the color zip fast me, ripping me through my numb body.

Tried tracing the emitter of the glow, she disappeared in to the twisted lanes

Leaving the hint of her sheen on the creepers that appeared at the corner of the roads

Touched the luster she left along the way

And that’s when, saw the colors of my life time

Colors enough to destroy one’s life

Colors when put together can conquer the whole world

Colors that ran as a DNA

Stood there trying to swim in the wide spectrum of colors

And saw the color blindness getting drenched in her Fuchsia Glow.

Wake Up LOVE

wake up, love


wake up, love
undress yourself from my skin
put on the sun and let our dreaming rest
come watch the world rise

wake up, love
and be unbalance on the edge with me
of our sagging, remembering bed
come slip on your shoes

wake up, love
and help me sort this tangle of belongings
our thoughts half in day, half still in night
come kiss me full of sustenance

wake up, love
and meet me at the opened door
before the scent of you leaves my hands and hair
come walk with me into this life

Children by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children

as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves also the bow that is stable.

A Dream

A pink dress
Two red shoes
A shirt with grey stripes
Some blue balloons
Many hairbands in orange
A bubbly drink
A little slurpy kiss
A big bear hug
Our sparkling smiles
Trees in different shapes and shades
A man walking with an umbrella
We both holding hands
All enthusiastic eyes with envy

A star filled night
on a flowing stream side
lets hunt for the places where we can hide
me in your arms and u in cloud nine
take ahead and fill the list
be with me, and lets live the moments we never did

Kiss Machine

He was actually someone i wanted to meet. When i went to meet him, i almost got up to leave, thinking it's stupidity to meet a person just like that. After a few hours of chatting about some random stuff, he asked me if i would kiss him. All i remember doing is- i just leaned ahead from the bar chair and gave a peck on his lips.

I don't regret kissing him till date and the best part is after that we just kissed and kissed and kissed more....awww can't tell it's such a good feeling to even think of kissing him.

Fly fly fly................

I want to fly even if the fall will leave me with broken bones...well i dont mind a broken nose actually....yea i think i dont like my nose it's kinda weird in shape an Isosceles triangle which looks like it's been punched from the side and top and bottom ...wotever

Well the first time i heard about someone flying was in a story of a son & a father- Icarus & Daedalus...i'm sure many would have read this story...when i read it, the first thought that came was wow how can someone be so creative..and after a bit of mind masturbation ( i never knew the meaning of this at that age) the wicked me came up with a new twist to the story i.e Daedalus actually must have made those wax wings to get his son killed, may be he was jealous- though i still dont know why i came up with tat twist in the tale.

Okay now getting back to the feeling of flying, i think that happens when i am in Nishant's arms...i feel as if i have everything i want...as if i am footloose and ready to take off...very girly right...but dats ok :)