The Boomerang

With the vast open fields,
Around the shadows cast by the trees,
The evening emerging after noon,
And together visible the sun and the moon,
I was playing as it was time,
For any child to enjoy after the hard day’s regime.
That day I had no friends as they didnt come,
All alone not too far from home,
Was thinking of what to do with the thing in hand,
Which was called the boomerang.
I threw it first across the bent,
Ran to it, after it fell, afraid of dent,
It annoyed me as it didnt fly good,
Threw it again, not being rude.
This time along the bent or the curve,
Took a nice flight as it got the right serve,
That excited me to try for more,
As it came back with smile on me in store.
What goes around, comes around,
It always left me spell bound,
The phrase with philosophical meaning,
At that time just a playable thing.
I am reminded, as it is being used again,
As my child is happy and plays with her gang,
Even alone she is with the boomerang bound,
As what goes around, comes around.


When it feels to love you !

When it feels to love you,
I just want to look into your eyes,
And say, I love your kiss,
The moments you miss,
The smile you hold,
After your every story told,
I just want to hear you,
With the words pounding over,
With martini in the drawer,
Nothing is more of addiction than to behold you,
I just want to say that I will always love you.

When it feels to love you,
I just want to know you,
Every bit of your thought,
Something that’s still untold,
So that I can nod on whatever you say,
Though I understand or not (in the heavens may),
I just want to listen you,
Whether or not you love a song,
But everything that’s out of you,
Its like its only mine to listen to,
and as always to listen again and again,
To hear from you, that you will always love me,
With the inherent tame.

When it feels to love you ,
I just want to hold your hand,
Rub my thumb over the back of your palm,
And say something that makes you feel deeply,
The other moment makes you laugh badly,
But remains etched for our love in your memory,
I just want to tell you,
That you arent only the best thing happened to me,
But a thing that my words are left unexpressed might be,
but still tell you those words,
That are yours to remember.

When it feels to love you,
I just feel that you could be in front of me,
As i keep staring at your photograph network bee,
And could do what I want to do,
And have the feeling of not being able to do,
When you are standing in front of me,
And gather courage from a source eternity,

The Worshipper

He praised her like the greatest,

Had her wishes filled to the fullest,

Never allowed to drop a tear out of sorrow even a slightest,

And had in his heart given the place reserved for the best.

Everyday he bought her the flowers,

Gave all comfort with all the toil he could have in wonders,

He respected her in each and every form of life’s colors,

And bowed to her for the only one thing that she had offered.

When asked him what was so special about her ?

Why in cold nothing for himself but for her all the woolen fur,

What blinded him for her which was no different from other,

Why so love and affection which never with time wither ?

He answered them all at once,

With a single word shut up their guns,

And left all of them to the astonished stuns,

That I worship my life, that’s what everyone does”.

”In the midst of heavy rain and the growling thunder,

In front of the mighty flood I was only a slender,

And she was the one who had lost her son in the age tender,

In the same flood which had left all in horrified wonder !

At that time I was abandoned alone by the force of nature,

Had lost everyone and was the week scavenger,

And almost after more than hour,

I fainted and fell on the ground like the dead creature.

She was the one who gathered the strength from the grief saddened,

She was the one who came for this fatefully orphaned,

And picked me up and walked for routes now lengthened,

In the midst of the rain and the flood strengthened.

After hours of walking she left me to the care,

And at the hospital doorstep she fainted there,

And when I woke I was the one alive of few after the trauma fun fair,

Thanks to the lady who was now on the wheel chair ! ”

Tears had rolled from the eyes of listeners,

This was a story never told in human manners,

There were left no questionnaires,

As they saw the boy serving the old lassie.

He took of her the utmost care,

Both combined by fate for which they paid a heavy fare,

But now it guided them in the ways fair,

He kept on worshipping the old lady on the wheel chair !!



Being born was a matter of coincidence,
With that the life began,
And it grew to the adolescence,
Which felt the beginning of toughness now and then.

Until that all was fun,
Nothing more than a school day naughtiness,
But then feelings came overwhelming in a ton,
And all lost was that sweet childish tenderness.

With adolescence grew the feeling called love,
Searching here as if the reason for sole existence,
While not all but a few were made into the pair of dove,
By that same once again a moments coincidence.

Then came the time for facing the reality,
To live in the world and to earn for living,
Many lost into total anonymity,
As only few coincided with luck to be the supreme being.

Anyhow life went as usual for all,
With failure or success to a small account,
With each living person from tiny to tall,
Thus played the time sitting on the coincidence mount.

And as further processed, in this daily changing world,
Growth made old even the fiercest strength,
To the shelf of even not being able to utter a single word,
When the coincidence of death sat beside the graveyard, on the bench