Half told stories

Some half told stories,
tired of waiting for an end,
embarrassed of being read,
are seeing through days for ink to fade.

Some half told stories,
afraid of suicide the climax could commit,
by reaching the last page before meeting an end,
are desperately hoping for different ends.

Some half told stories,
hoping the pen lying dead on their chest,
is lifted by a writer,
who can ferry them on his emotions to an end.

Some half told stories,
wandering through imaginations,
are curious to discover an end,
in anxious beats of desperate souls

Payback

you were on my speed dial,
while i topped your missed call charts,
saw things were falling, still hope was in denial,
while you were busy building a life apart,

i gave up my flight to make you walk again,
and after a few steps, you shunned my hand,
pushing me aside like an unwanted end,
not bothering to look back,
leaving me wounded in pain.

To end the chaos…

I thought …

ripping the watch off the wrist,
would change the times,

sipping dew beneath the mist,
would quench the thirsts,

keeping hands off the thread,
would skip being culprit of the knots,

letting a tear off the eye,
would prevent the bubble bursts,

begetting words through eyes,
would escape the misquotes,

forgetting the ties,
would push the emotions away,

but it didn’t happen…

years were deprived of a minute,
sips weren’t enough to drown the thirst,
knots transpired to cast a web,
a tear moved out stealing all the pearls,
choked words couldn’t reach the eyes,
memories of the left held emotions to ransom,

and
the chaos survived

Wahi zindagi…

Umr aur waqt se aage badhe,
par khayaal umeedon aur yaadon ke beech wahi the.

Auhde aur zimmedaari se aage badhe,
par faasla ghar aur naukri ke beech wahi tha.

Nakaamiyo aur hatasha se aage badhe,
par “yun hota toh kya hota” is haseen sapne aur haqeqat ke beech palkon ke jhapak wahi thi.

Kuch kadmo ke saath chalne aur kuch haatho ke chhotne se aage badhe,
par nayaab mehfilo aur bhoola denewale vaakyo ke beech log wahi the.

Time

“time flies.. time heals..”
as if
it just picks up your baggages,
freezing them as memories.

“time doesn’t wait..time never remains the same..”
as if
it greets you the first time with a bye,
and before you recognize, leaves behind a teary eye.

“time is ticking..time is money..”
as if
time given is experience traded,
moments wasted are wisdom evaded.

You are alive if…

you can listen to heartbeats at some point during the day

you can catch the breath that is running out faster than it is going in

you like to see the sun set after hours of escaping it’s heat,

you are amazed to see the dew settle on leaves through winter nights,

you slow down at times to absorb the scene around when running late,

you ain’t a fan of perfection and enjoy the act even with misplaced cues

you measure the success with people who have matched their steps to be with you

Underbelly of change

Should i break the mirror
Or turn off the lights,

Should i draw the curtains
Or turn on the lights,

Should i scream it out,
Or mumble the tension,

Should i listen a bit,
Or let the eyes fake attention,

Should i erase it hard
Or tear the page,

Should i fiddle the thumb
Or bite the nail in rage

Maybe i should just be….