It might knock on your door

Past haunts and stalks us

it peeps now and it will peep then

It will come knocking on your door

and you'll run to it again

with mind frozen and heart enthralled

You will try to resist yourself

It is difficult as you'll then recall

what you cannot really erase from you

and has really made you who you are

but you will be squashed in your two faces

But then living in your past makes you sad

both expressively and as a person

and you'll try to look forward to a vivid fresh face

that makes you up and dresses you up

in a more assiduous way

You might seek for its traces in the new face

and replacements in a new grace

but faces are never the same again

even they are squashed between their two sides

You can sense your past in your heart

but it's gone farther than you assume

Just before you felt it by your side

It was gone on a path far and wide

Face is a canvas

The face is a canvas with

vivid, colorful strokes and detailed curves

each stroke of brush is my feel

I express them with a humble will

I can keep on painting forever

I want it to have errors

I want to commit mistakes

I want to ruin my painting

and fix it so real

the brush is my brain doing its own thing

it doesn't care what color I choose 

it blends them in adequately,

it leaves adorable imperfections

The brush can change me,

a single curve with brush can make me smile

a single curve by brush can make me sad

few painted drops of water can make me cry

few details on my forehead can make me frown

The Pair of Happiness

The world was just Negative film 

with clichéd frowns or overrated happiness 

until I saw a studded layer in front of myself 

Which could make miracles happen 

When the devil who I thought was evil 

was handed a pair of upbeat daisies 

The wand worked at its best when 

I could agree with someone's opinion 

Until that someone who I thought was totally discrete,  

could complete my sentences without efforts 

It made me see the wide sea so scary 

incarnated as a treasure of secrets and possibilities 

They see what they want to see 

they search for what they yearn to find 

they notice what we can complete our life with 

They can Find the Master-key to our hearts 

Hidden by the centuries of Grief or Ego 

That stop us from looking at ourselves 

Because the cumbersome heart beats 

turn into the gleam 

Or the shock to the brain 

makes the sight vacant 

These beads of hope speak what we need 

They make us believe in what we aim for 

These eyes are what we are 

and they make a perfect pair of merriment 

Judgements

Hold down opinions about the person you just met

They may have a story to tell,

A tale as crude as a tempest

As pondering as an epic

The stranger is not what you just thought

They could be your soul mate or your finest friend

You never know what’s feasible until that happens

Wait till that person changes your life

The infuriating person you just heard

May be your redeemer some day

A person worth your wait

Someone you cannot let go

You never know if something’s a gaffe,

Until you make it

Give it a shot and be genial for the moment

You never know where it takes you to

It's not only you

      The world is a place that is crowded with people, animals, struggles, stories, inspiration, emotions, energy and love. It is also filled with hate, jealousy, curses, depression, stress and other things. Even the empty street which was considered vacant is full of dreams and solitude. We often step out in a crowd in a bad mood. But, hey! there are hundreds of other people who may have same or higher level of stress troubling them. Someone may have lost his/her friend or family member. Someone else may have been caught for a crime he/she hasn't committed.

     Someone out there is impaired forever and can't stand again. Someone is depressed and wants to end his/her life. Someone just lost his/her eye. While we were grumbling about not so delicious food, someone just died due to hunger.

     Well, we have been taught to aim high and achieve huge dreams. But we stopped thanking our fate for the things we have. Everyone has a special and inspiring story. Even the street beggar can tell you his life story which will give you goosebumps. Even a housefly has a tale.

     This makes everybody legendary in some or the other way. So, next time you feel blues around your heart and think that your world has ended, think of the millions of people around the world who faced the same emotion and survived it heftily. Think of those who survived emotive and physical battles and transcended the odds without whining. It is not always about the fate that has in store for us. We are never alone. Someone out there is facing exactly the same emotion as you at the same time. Nevertheless, your battle is not only yours, it includes millions of other people you never knew about

Hear what silence says.

The silence is full of trites 

But, breathtaking, suave and overwhelming,

It makes us pounce upon blunders

Silence is more perilous than violence

It is where the heartbeats are loud 

And where the utterances ineffable

Silence is an assassin of threads 

It enervates the strings breaking them at once

 Yet, they cannot be rejoined by the glue of noise

Silence makes music lovelier 

As it complements the melodies 

Hear the breaks in the music

Silence is the code hard to decipher

It is sent by the medium of feelings

Hear the silence as it shouts

Hear the silence as it prevails 

Hear the subtle nuances it makes 

Hear the life changing pauses it creates

Looking back at things that made us.

      Recently, I was struggling hard to avoid lethargy. This can’t affirm that I am lazy, but for me, being lazy is not being able to come up with something creative. I couldn’t find any good thought to write on. I felt like I’d stopped observing things or had become dormant, reasoning the comfortable climate. Err, but then, a month of not thinking of writing made me miss writing. I thought that maybe I hadn’t realise what I love truly until I missed it in my life.

   Repeating this known fact may sound cliché but I don’t mean to. The ‘Missing something’ phenomenon caught me. I wondered about why I miss something I love(d). This can be explained why we miss our old friends. Though, they aren’t as close as they were, they are a part of our life. In our last moments we are going to remember people who made difference in our lives consciously or unknowingly.  However, we don’t always want them again in the same old role but we are going to lionize our possessions because they define us. We are going to love them however they are. We even love our transitory possessions like our dorm during a camping trip or our class teacher. We love our memories because they belonged to us.

    There’s something extremely ravishing and appealing about the city we lived in or the home we reside in. It attracts us, overwhelms us, spurs adrenaline in veins and emblazons our life. And we realize this when we are prepared to leave the place altogether. Our hearts soar in exhilaration and the reason for which is quite unknown to us. We never mean to sadden our present for leaving our roots but we are prepared at the moment to cherish things that made us, spruced us and which are parts of us

    Even if we leave the past behind we are never going to forget it. We may try to overcome our past which has bitter- sweet memories but we can’t totally forget it. For that, every one of us would need to get Amnesia. But it doesn’t work that way. We should accept our past along with the blunders we have had committed because our present reflects our expedition since the beginning. Rather than sobbing over our errors we should learn from them and devise our future because we are made from them.