Saw an old classic movie today. The heroine waits her whole life, for an imaginary magical person, who will come and change her life forever…

Do we all wait for such an angel? Can someone really step in and make the life a perfect dream come true?
Walk with me, along with the poem, and feel the vibration of desires, which is so different….

  शिशिर तुम कब आओगे

यूं ही उड़ते जा रहें है पल, उड़नखटोले पर होकर सवार, 
इंतजार लेकिन खत्म नहीं होगा, मत ढ़ाओ तुम कहर,
खुशीओं के कपोल बन गए है, मेरे मन का आहार, 
मौसम हंसकर कर रहा है, मीठा-मीठा सा प्रहार ।

शिशिर तुम कब आओगे….

खुली आंखो के सपने सोने नहीं देती,
बोझिल आंखे जागने नहीं देती,
कुछ इसी कशमकश में मैंने बुझा दी बाती,
और मेरी बातों में तुम्हें उलझा दिया, ओ मेरे साथी ।

शिशिर तुम कब आओगे ….

सांसों के इस पिंजर को, 
सम्हलने के लिए मत कहो,
चहकता है हर हाल में, साथ तुम्हारे जो,
तुम्हे रगो में शामिल किया जुनून की तरह, ही तो।

शिशिर तुम कब आओगे …

एक सोच जो लय और ताल का सृजन करता है, 
एक उम्मीद जो खुशबू की तरह तुम्हें और मुझे जोड़ता है,
जो मेरी रूह की आवाज बनकर, मुझसे ही मिलता है, 
तुम मेरी वो कल्पना हो, जो हकीकत का चोंगा पहनता है।

शिशिर तुम कब आओगे …..

ख्वाब अगर परिपूर्णता का सबब है,
उम्मीद अगर प्राणशक्त बन रग रग मे समाता है,
तो शिशिर तुम कभी भी मत आना, 
इस इंतज़ार को बनने दो पराकाष्ठा का पैमाना ….

शिशिर तुम कब आओगे ……




We often love to have the best of both worlds. But when we have to choose between both the extremes, it’s human tendency to choose only the best one. Our journey is simple but often gets complicated by our choices and preferences. Let us think about it in this poem…

                       YOUR CHOICE

The rising sun or the sunset,
The soothing breeze or the warm sweat,
The morning walk or the comfy bed,
Think about the choices before you regret.

It’s not that easy to choose,
As all the options are rosy and it soothes, 
Life is a gamble and no one wants to lose,
All want to be a winner and to be in news.

But if the options sound straight,
Happiness or sorrow, life or death,
Win or lose, smile or cry, love or hate,
You won’t ask for both, but only the best.

Then let the choices be bold and extreme,
Let there be no 50/50 option or 1+1 scheme,
Let best be the choice and the only theme,
Let us cherish life as ultimate and supreme.

But do we really have to choose the best?
Can’t we choose which is just heartily blessed,
Let it not be like an award in the contest,
Maybe least wanted, but deeply self expressed. 


I sat at the beach and admired the sand crab for his sincere devotion to make his home, the firm hole, which seldom collapses. I tried and digged my hand in the sand and oops, the hole collapsed as soon as my hand was out. Sand crabs and our perception of reality, does this comparison really sounds sensible?

While writing this poem, Sand Crab, I felt the peace flowing in me, with the realisation that a small crab can also teach us something.😊

Mesmerised I watched the sand crab,

How beautiful he makes the hole in sand’s lap,

It’s his home or a secret place to take a nap,

His hole never collapses, I gave a happy clap.



I tried and tried, but my hole again filled with sand,

The tunnel never took me to the treasure land,

Am I not strong or I don’t have that perfect hand,

Are my efforts simply immature or unplanned?



Early morning the beach became my destination,

To learn from the sand crab about his perfection,

The rejuvenating waves smiled, seeing my dedication,

Groom me, dear crab, to receive that standing ovation.



When you are taken for granted and tagged as available,

The crab smiled and said, then you are no more termed as valuable,

Learn to live on your own terms, if you want to be unforgettable,

Unlike other crabs, I move only backward,

and so defined as unbelievable.



The sun gave you the tan, but I am one of the sun sign,

I make the hole with wet sand and that’s my life line,

Don’t struggle inside faking a smile and say I am fine,

Flaunt your heartful of happiness by defining your headlines.



Wet sand, yes, that’s the firm binding, which will stand,

Be wet with pure emotions, but flexible like crab in the sand,

Fly high, enjoy your blessings, make your own fairyland,

Do what makes you happy, and be bigger than the brand.


Does everyone wear a mask? 

I am not sure, but perhaps sometimes. And when someone claims he/she wears a mask always, how should one react?  I want to know….want you to connect with my poem (mask)……Does a mask really justify its existence or it’s just an illusion of mind and words….


To reveal the truth, whenever she ask,
He say it’s a real herculean task,
As on the spotlight where he bask,
He always prefers to wear a mask.

He kneels and says, you are the best,
He winks to show others, the fool in his nest,
You give, so I take, is the answer of her quest,
It’s the mask, above his shoulder which rest.

Protecting his treasure, he pops out of his shell,
Loaded with shallow promises and plastic assurance, as well,
To write on her blank slate with invisible gel,
Like a crossroad with no signpost, the mask suits well.

She walks on broken glass off guard,
Feeling like dead fish stinking in the shore like coward,
Her pain claws through vocal cords,
How can he wear a mask and guess her like tarot cards?

Quite whispers, cold breeze and fake illusion,
Sad little truth, his game with life is still on,
Candlestick is burning out, don’t be such a glutton,
Stop wearing the mask, between the twilight and the dawn.

She is the tree of warmth, not the polished bonsai,
Let his real person underneath, expose and dignify,
Speak from the heart, stand for her and be her samurai,
Rip off the mask or better say goodbye. 
Rip off the mask or better say goodbye.