Tag Archive: Thoughts


He tried to write a tale too long…
Lost track in between.. wrote it all wrong!

In a cafe at night, he attempted to complete this tale,
His words he misspelt, his chain of thoughts would fail !
He attempted to write.. a perfect beginning.. and a perfect end,
Neither was possible, broken segments of the story, he had to mend !
That’s the trouble he faced, as a writer always…
Good stories needed high drama, twisted ways…
A single track written, never went well..
Writer’s block creped in…It was every writer’s hell!
Adding new twists changed the plot,
He never reached the end, he had always sought…
He tried to add an impromptu track every time
Even though it meddled with his story, changed the flow of his rhyme !
Old characters he created were forgotten in lieu of characters new
Who were the protagonists now of his story? He himself never knew..
And thus the writer who sought a perfect end
Tried writing a reality, which he could never mend
For every fix he tried, another end seemed a mess
His tale was going nowhere, that was his best guess !

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Insomnia

Bored he was in the middle of the night

In a dark room.. cold..only AC’s indicator light

tried to sleep..but sleep alluded

As if to avoid him..even dreams colluded

Bored too much.. he tried passing time

Beginning to write another random rhyme

Perhaps a tale…brewing in his mind

Of characters – some new.. some old left behind

Word after word, he spun a tale new

Thoughts too many filtered to lines few

The best part was that he could write the end

Every twist in tale… he would eventually mend

The writer loved this power he had

A different world he created on his writing pad

Reality perhaps lead him to an insomnia filled night,

But in his tales he wrote his dreams.. setting every ending right …

Old man John worried a lot

Cribbed about life… never peace he got..

Cranky as usual.. he went on a walk,

And there in a park he heard someone talk..

 

" Life’s like that.. neither good nor bad

A coin’s two faces – one flip happy, one flip sad

Then why take stress in the happy phase..

Rather live high in the worst of days !

Don’t search for a meaning to life

Rather add one every moment.. That’s an easier strife .."

 

Cranky old John had new thoughts in his head

He never met that stranger.. but on the path shown by him, he now tread..

He pondered what to write…

He pondered what to write…
In the middle of the night
A clumsy writer he was
Living a writer’s block – he preferred calling it a pause

Every now and then, he tried to break the same,
Write something new, he tried..but wrote usual rhymes lame
That night too… like all the rest…
He was thoughtless, wordless, still tried rhyming at his best !

Fool…realised too well that he missed that spark now,
Faced an emptiness within, sought something new somehow,
Yet acknowledging the same, meant defeat, and defeated he wont be
Remain caught in random old rhymes, to sense new thoughts…new ideas.. he was never free…

A random walk

The writer went on a random walk,
Reminiscing past conversations, re-playing some random talk

He tried to settle a recurring thought,
A warm cup of coffee he now sought

To clear his mind and think straight now
Write some new tale… needed new ideas somehow

Writer’s block, this time, was not the same as always,
His old self had left him, seemed two personalities had parted ways

He was not the same, changed over the passing time,
Yet he kept re-writing similar words, penning almost a similar rhyme

He tried to settle unclear thoughts, clear his mind
Start afresh new, not get stuck up to tales left behind

He had changed, so had life, so must his writing now
He tried to reinvent the same, but his words… his thoughts still needed a change somehow.

Confusion…

He wanted to rhyme but had no clue…
The writer, my friend, had words none…thoughts random incoherent few…
Lost in confusion, he tried his best to express
His intentions… his actions.. but with his words he always further failed to impress…

Confusion was the flavour of the season…
Random thoughts in a crowded mind, for no apparent reason…
Like a crowded Mumbai local, all on-board – set for the journey, but fatally at discomfort,
Such were the writer’s thoughts, in his words they reflected, the rhymes that he finally wrote.

Bliss

Old Days…

Old Memories…

Old thoughts…

Old endings…

Obstruction…

Destruction…

Loss…

Pain…

Obsession…

Confusion…

Silence…

………Blank……….

 

…TRAVEL …

 

New Beginnings !

New Places !

New Roads !

New Memories !

New Days !

New Thoughts !

 

BLISS !

For in words he sought his destiny…
In words he forged his life…
In words he tried to rewrite tales
Old snippets minus the strife…

Through words, his writings, an attempt he made, 
To express thoughts, his musings, that will fade..
Through words, an escape he sought,
From a constant battle of thoughts that he always fought…

The Box

It was just a box… though trapped he felt,

Lock there was none, still like a prison , in it he dwelt…

The Box was his mind, an maze of emotions…

Bright in parts, too dark in some portions..

 

He wanted to escape, find the exit to this maze,

Amid dark thoughts, he was just lost in this haze,

Still struggling he is, perhaps someday he will succeed,

Leaving this haze behind, towards clarity he will proceed.

 

The Box has no lock, but will have a key,

To open up and expand, from negative thoughts be free,

The seeker searches for this key, his holy grail,

He feels trapped every moment, still for freedom, his strife will not fail.