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And so go the years…

Below four lines are from a song I like – “I know what it is to be young” by Orson Welles. If any words follow the four lines – those are written by me. Here goes…

There will be days to remember ,

Full of laughter and tears,

After summer comes winter,

And so go the years…


There will be moments like now,

When things seem wrong,

Each phase will fall in the rhythm somehow,

And so will go on the song…


There will be times of happiness,

And times of despair,

Every time will have a tale to tell,

Every tale will be a blockbuster affair…


For we all know, what it is to live,

Life has it’s dramas with highs and lows

Every phase we will live through, we must believe

Passing them all as time flows


For there will be months to remember,

An August of laughter, a September of tears,

Days will pass on to December,

And so go the years…




A world full of illusions

A wayward wanderer in the universe beyond,

Once wandered into a land unknown,

A world that seemed of happiness & fun where he developed a special bond,

Until he realized that all that he loved was now gone.


The world was full of illusions,

He realized it late,

Succumbing now to disillusions,

The fool suffered a predicted fate.


He never really saw the fault in the mirrors,

Which showed him perfection but never any errors

Those mirrors were his eyes in this world new,

And so he trusted all, found faults in no one, not even a chosen few.


But like every good show, that comes to end,

This one too ended, a broken world that he cannot mend,

Fool – Had stopped his journey thinking this was his Utopia,

Now he lives a nightmare, remains in a constant phobia.


Fear of reality, fear of life,

Fear of the newly discovered disillusioned strife,

Of how easy it is for the mirrors to break,

Of how the sturdiest of bonds can be fake.


What to do, what not to do, the wanderer knows not,

Stuck in the world of illusions, peace he always sought,

But his fate is written by the creator of this hell,

A miserable story that no one can foretell.


Only the writer of tales too grim,

Got a peek in his world, his reality and pain

Poor guy still doesn’t understand what’s happening to him,

Stuck he is in a world and there he will remain.


The writer will soon end the wanderer’s misery,

A tragic end to be written to close this story.

Until then the wanderer will suffer with his mirrored eyes,

With every crack they suffer, he will be more disillusioned, see through more lies…..






Kuch alfaaz mere mein likh raha hoon,

Shaayad keh na paaon kabhi,

Shabdon mein kuch khayalaat bayaan kar raha hoon,

Shaayad awaaz na ban paaye woh kabhi…


Kuch darr sa lagta hai aaj kal,

Kahin galat kuch keh naa doon mein,

Alfaaz ko mitaakar, phir likh sakta hoon iss pal,

Par aawaz mein yeh sahoolat shaayad miley naa mujhe…


Kuch alfaaz mein yun likhna chahta hoon,

Jo dil mein ho bas likh doon abhi,

Dard sa kuch ehsaas hai yeh,

Bas shabdon bayaan hua naa kabhi….


Maaf karna mujhe agar kuch galat likh doon,

Bas jitna ho sake utna kam likh raha hoon,

Ab shaayad aage mein kuch naa kahoon,

Aakhri baar bas… kuch alfaaz mere…mein yun likh raha hoon…


This tale is of love that started on different Christmas day

Of two star crossed lovers who chose their own way !

Though it wasn’t planned, but I guess it was fate,

That each fell in love with the person whom they were supposed to hate !

Their families were at war, it was an enmity well-known

Yet a random evening changed this equation, seeds of love were sown !

And it blossomed day and night

Love made life different – wasn’t the usual fight !

Families were forgotten – only one name was always on the mind

The lovers thus chose to leave their old lives behind !

They got married secretly, a victory too sweet

Unknown to them though, was a different destiny that they will meet !

Families separated them, much drama followed,

Life for the lovers now seemed hollowed !

Not united in life ….one chose death

Knowing one was no more.. the other too gave up his breath !

Thus ended a tale of two star crossed lovers who united after life

Love was their folly, such was their strife !

Their names are unknown but a playwright gave each a new name

And through his writing their love lived.. rising to a new fame !

A tragedy renown to the world replicated in stories again and again,

For every tale told – brought with it the same sadness, the same pain !

For never was a story more woe..

Then this of Juliet and her Romeo !

Kuch kam hai dil mein khwaaishein…

Kuch kam hai dil mein khwaaishein…
Yeh samaah ab woh nahi hai !
Udte the jahan khwabon ke sehraano mein
Yeh aasmaan ab woh nahi hai !

Zindagi ke saath hum bhi aage bad gaye
Armaan kuch adhure peeche reh gaye
Jis manzil ki aur chale the, yeh raasta ab woh nahi hai…
Kuch kam hai dil mein khwaaishein, yeh samaah ab woh nahi hai !

Life moves on…

Life moves on…connecting one tale to another…
Highs and lows ….keep following each other,
The end doesn’t matter… what matters…is the road.
Make the journey memorable… Why take any load ?
Relish each tale, on this journey of life !
Live life to the fullest, no matter what strife !!



Laugh and be high on life…
Perfect recipe to overcome any strife !
Every now and then one may face moments of gloom…
With a base of laughter though..happiness will definitely bloom !



An artist he was, his art was doors
Everyone preferred them, to protect their floors
Everyday he made one, using some colour new
Rahim preferred green, Ram preferred blue
The door-maker created beauty for all
His art was universal, adorning every wall !


A writer’s nightmare – am I?
A pain on the roads – am I?
Sign of disruption – am I?
An end to consumption – am I?
Not sure who I am
Confusion at best
Or perhaps just an excuse for some rest

For you writer, I am a hindi movie villian indeed
To free your heroine – your imagination from my cluthes, you plead
Cause fighting me is no good, you know that well,
Just adds more moments to your personal hell
But I am just a mere block – to each his own
Seeking solace everywhere, but eventually disowned
Wouldn’t it be nice to be acknowledged not ignored or hated for a change,
if only my thoughts too someone can express
Just try writer, perhaps this will help you come out of your mess


I burn every night
to provide you some light
so that you can write
stories – each with a beginning new
Every new tale is a purpose well served – for my last moments few

With my help
you write new words
Adding life to characters new
Every night you create a new fate
And I feel empowered that this new world I helped to create

For when this life is over
I will live on
In the stories you wrote
characters you created
My life has a purpose
that seems perfect
Every fleck of light I have
has power immense
For every tale read by your readers ever after
will in each word have some of my essense