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We tell the story,

Of a life, you haven’t yet seen,

The world you know,

As we imagine it,

The crafters of hope,

The healers of hearts,

We add to life,

What it needs most,

A need you don’t yet see.

A dream you haven’t yet had.


Rough ages

Rough ages

They say life goes full circle,
Yet I find myself in the corner once again,
Taking a call whether to fight or flee,
The mind, a victim of stress,
Yet the heart pacing ahead,
It is a hard pick,
When a beautiful dream,
Can be a tribble nightmare,
Funny when you think about it,
The storm is also the rainbow,

What is happy?

It’s not that am not happy,
But i’m not happy,
I see what i seek,
And i seek what i see,
But is this there is to be?
Or just what i let me be,
I agree i can be great,
But then again can’t we all?
So what is true greatness?
What is happiness?
If this is it? What is hunger?
I want to be famous,
But anonymously,
I want to be remembered,
But then again i want to vanish,
I want to shout,
But silently,
I don’t want to live,
I want a life.
It’s not that i am not happy,
But i’m not happy.


Chasing a dream or being driven by it is a choice we all make knowingly or unknowingly, more likely than not least realising they both are very different. The beginning of every journey starts with a chase, so did mine. And what a chase it was no direction, no destination just a stubborn kid wanting to do something, least realising the consequences of the spiral of events. It was a bumpy ride to say the least, but in the due course of time stubborn changed to focus and determination and suddenly there was a path. And then there was a goal, no more was I chasing a hollow dream now I was driven by it to something concrete, something I could derive pride and honour from, Because at the end of the day a man without pride and honour is hardly a man.

I have not achieved my dream yet, maybe I never will. But that very dream is my spark, it’s the reason I wake up in the morning. It is the reason the stars talk to me, it is the reason I am not willing to halt or rest. It is the reason I am who I am and it will be the reason for me to become what I will become. I may not be legend, but I am definitely no loser. 


I have been told to be afraid,

Afraid of the rain,

Afraid of the storm,

Afraid of the pain,

Because only with fear they say,

Can we be sane,

But I laugh and ridicule,

As I stand stubborn like a mule,


Days come and nights go,

No one knocks,

They just open the door,

Hours past fast,

But seconds are slow,

Everybody smiles,

But they eventually say no,


I give fear a second chance,

It is rude and cruel,

And rips me at every glance,

I feel the need to fight,

But I am already absorbed,

By this dreaded trance,


I have lost the inner me,

I am not as proud as I used to be,

I can’t even look in the mirror,

Because my reflection is all I will see,


The sky is not blue,

And the sun won’t rise,

Words like happiness and joy,

Can only be a lie,

But this will change,

Till eternity I will try,

Or else only my body will die,


Now times have changed,

I am in this warm and cosy happy place,

Seduced with joy,

By feminine fragrances on Saturn and lace,

Fear will always have its place,

But as of now it’s vanished without a trace.


I choose to fight,

My destiny has been written,

But I will rub it with sweat,

And write it in blood,

I am not afraid of the storm,

Because I am the flood,


I will rise to the occasion,

And pull up my socks,

Hold on to my heart,

And move the rocks,

I can’t wait,

For god to do his part,


People come and people go,

Every opportunity is door,

Every failure is a step above the floor,

I won’t stop,

And I won’t go,

I will fight you all,

Because I want it more!


Numbers have never been a friend but when they stand against you, you realize that life can also fight back. So yet again there is this moment when I am low and sad. It hurts to be low but I have this conciliation as my belief that if I live to see the dawn I will be great. Right now I am scared, cold and lost. I am still looking for the true me to set me free. The world seems to take away my colour and my shine and then points fingers at me for not having colour or shine. I have fallen but I still make futile tries to rise. And the world laughs, for them I am just a joke they will never understand what I do and why I do it. But actually neither do i, I am afraid of dying ignorant. But knowledge can never be achieved the more you achieve the more you realise the absence of it. I have few who understand my shattered soul but they are enough for me. I will rise that is for sure but when is the question whose answer is borne by the numbers that lead our lives.