It’s not that you can’t win

It’s not that you’ll fail

It’s just that you never try.


Once failed, you lose hope

Ignoring the fact that failure is the first step to success


Be brave enough to face the hurdle

Life is something that seems burden

Unless you learn to fight from cradle

Never forget – hard work can lead to Arden.

Lonely Night


The clock is ticking
Hours are passing
The sleep has gone
I am alone.

I dream with open eyes
Crave for oozy sighs
So close we were, until
Your touch turned chill.

You are still awake
Maybe with someone else
Who knows not
What is your thought.

But I still believe,
There’s someplace
In your heart where
Resides two souls together-
You, Me – the Us.

Young Age

An age when we think everything is Achievable, Graspable, even Snatchable.

We can beat the Wind, beat the Storm and can smash the Hurricane that will come across.

“Nothing is permanent” we don’t believe.

Some of us begin to forget the most costly things- Honor, Honesty and the Root.

Root- our ancestors keep praying for us,

Keep serving us, keep showing the true path.

But we the boundless, imaginary though,

Never realize the meaning of true bond, relationship and spiritually,

Till it becomes too late.

The age is not a complete failure either.

We do have the courage, strength – both mental and physical

To stand against all forces of negativity,

If they remain grounded to their own roots.


I Hate the Idea of Having a “Heart”

I expected more than what you could offer

You were giving to the fullest

But keeping the one percent away always

That you were saving for someone else.


I was unaware and was living in an ideal world

Until I learnt about your ignorance

It actually wasn’t any ignorance

It was just a deviated form of your average behaviour

That you used to practise with every second person you encounter.


My fault was-

I was wondering thinking about your humbleness

Mistakenly expecting a kind of special attention.


I know it was all my heart’s mistake.

Now I hate the idea of having a Heart

Not the organ- pumping our blood

But the feeling that is called the human heart.


I used to pray for your success

No, it wasn’t me. It was my so-called heart

Of whose sense I have made numb now

I will continue to pray for you

But it may not come incessantly as it used to be


I made a mistake of thinking you a human

You were actually some other creature that doesn’t feel nor respond

Now my mind is calm with no worry, no expectation and

Finally, no H-E-A-R-T.



Getting Old

I saw a man, an aged man

Walking beside the street, fully grown-up

With signs of experience on his steps

I saw a woman, an experienced one

Burden of real life is seen on her shoulders

They were young but inside their heart

Still searching for some progress or

Trying to  deal with gust of time

Their slow movement reminds me of

Something horrible I will face ever.

But the true apprehension gives a thought

Regarding my begetters. A mysteriously

Bitter wind makes a sudden blow through

My heart. Realising I start praying for

A healthy leading of their entire life

Both worlds have their own taste, May the

Almighty endow us with happy and fruitful fate.