Joys of Being Human

The joy of being human,
Living on different worlds,
When ours falls and dies;
Escaping to temporary illusions,
When the reality falls to crumbles;
Basking on the fire far away,
While the very same fire destroys everything;
Fighting over petty things,
Things that are forgotten an instant later;
Coveting over stupid things,
Only to throw them away in solitude;
Sweating over choices,
Choices that, in the end, are insignificant.

22nd March, 2020


Small transient moments of joy,
Blanketed by the envelopes of sorrow,
With contempt on every crevasse, under every stone.

Live life as thus,
Soldiering ahead,
The Grand Delusion;
A mist of illusion,
Of a life well-lived.

Nothing “special”, nothing “unique”
Everything “special”, Everything “unique”,
The thick flaps of mediocrity overcomes us all,
All of us mere embers in a large fire: meaningless.

Ah, banality,
The joy of an observer,
The curse of a thinker,
The comfort of the subject.
Ah, staleness,
The friend of the mediocre.

I go on, soldier on, survive on, alive, breathing,
On this lonely torturous little place.
Anticipation for rays of joy keep me going,
Through this thick forest of deceptive moments,
And cruel sorrows.

1st March, 2020


Taste, smell, sight,
The eternal gifts of the Gods,
Touch of the beauty,
Sound of the great,
All of them: our friends;
The lover of human beings.

The universe: open to us,
A cascade of colours,
A burst of the metaphysic,
Truisms of the cosmos,
The world in its purest sense.

But then, the thought awakens,
The absurdity, the façade reveals itself,
The world comes crashing down,
Reality as you know it: a lie.

All senses are but dull, colourless,
Just a beautiful glass,
Telling nothing but lies,
Sensing nothing but sweet fakes.

Just a beautiful glass,
That shatters and collapses,
At the first touch of scrutiny.

And thus is your life,
And thus is every life,
And hence, I will die,
All hope lost, all joys gone.

15th February, 2020

A Titleless Poem #001

I taste reality,
The sour phases of existence,
The dour lives of people,
Bitter and unhappy souls, carrying corpses.

Frustration kills me,
As I go in and out of tune,
The taste was better yesterday,
It was sweet the day before,
And yet, today it is damning.

In and out of lucidity,
I understood the universe yester-year,
I don’t have a clue today,
Today is the day without color,
This is the year of sadness.

I detest existence,
I love life.
I’ve survived through everything,
I’ve had yet to live.

A thousand lives spent,
Mulling over things small and big,
Things of significance,
And those of utter insignificance,
Shallow and superficial,
Deep and profound.

The polar expressions constrict me,
Squeeze me and inject me with venomous deeds,
Apologies everyone!
I am just confused,
As my interests vanish,
My curiosities fade away,
My dear words abandon me.

10th February, 2020


The world will laugh at you,
The days will swallow you,
Hell will spit at you,
Society will abandon you.

The world will kill you,
The people will rip you apart,
Hell will torture you,
Nights will haunt you.

The very air will suffocate you,
The earth will murder you,
The water will drown you,
The fire will burn you,
The ice will break you.

You are flimsy, a nobody,
Nothing to do, no one to love,
Joyless, tortured,
Falling down an infinite pit.

But persevere,
For even if your time may never come,
For even if you may never succeed,
Even if the world may never know you,
You have a friend in me.

10th December, 2019

Dying Embers

The fire coughs, and dies,
The cold wind whistles,
The last glow illuminates the horrors,
The untamed deadly wild,
The unknown beyond.

Everyone huddles up, afraid,
Darkness surrounds them,
Suffocating and killing their minds.

The dying embers are unassuming,
Are they the tools of light, joy?
Or are they the slow anger of the night?
Are they the solace, peaceful and content?
Are they the tools for mockery and hopelessness?

The embers slowly burn out,
And the remains are red ash,
Desperately hoping for life, for fire,
For anything.
But death, as always swallows them,
And the night reigns, free.

24th November 2019



It stands tall, unchanging,
Never lost, never quite there.

The hope of spring,
Can never move its heart,
The heart of cold stone,
Of forgotten dreams.

The harsh words of summer,
Are nothing to its hard shield,
A shield that once shielded,
The madness within.

Autumn brings the cool death,
The façade of warmth kills and corrupts,
It knows, and yet nothing!
Silence in its eternal meditation.

The unending winds of winter,
They strike with fury and passion,
Not a budge, not a scratch,
Not a whimper, not a sigh.

Under a haze of the swirling clouds,
Or under the clear blue mystic sky,
Under the gray fogs of mystery,
Or under the sweltering rays of the sun,
It’s still there, and will always stand tall..

July 07, 2019

The Boy Who Dared

The darkness creeps up to the woods,
Pure, horrible and sickly fascinating.
The beasts whimper and scuffle away,
The nocturnals hunt, their red eyes shine.

Supernatural evils rule and roam the woods,
Their malevolent presence: frightening; killing.
Their sickly hair growing off decaying skeletons,
They are the Kings of the Woods.

But there is a tree they dare not venture to,
And that tree is sacred, for what lays on its feet:
Infinite wisdom, knowing innocence, joyful masks,
Carefree days, happy futures.

All of it is frozen, captured in the face of that boy,
His eyes stare at the night sky, seeing nothing,
His skin, full of life the other day, is deadly white,
His little hands rest on the grass, dry from chagrin.

The moon and her eternal face cry,
For something precious has been lost forever,
Condemned to the eternal void, devoid of light,
A life, blinked out; cruelly ripped off.

And thus ends the story of one little boy,
The boy who dared to hope, dared to dream,
But Alas! He never will be. And the world?
The world has all but forgotten him.

15th June, 2019


The ground flies away,
The clouds rush to me,
With their rich fragrance,
Their infinite presence.

I fly through the clouds,
Little droplets caressing me,
Finally! Free of earthly bonds,
I race off to paradise.

I rise beyond the clouds.
The hills hide the sun,
And the horizon turns a red hue.
The little stars start twinkling.

The world dissolves,
Into a collage of colors,
Like a palette full of paints,
The sky: a canvas of art.

I find solace up here,
In the majestic sky,
With the soft crisp breeze,
The rejuvenating freedom.

I am one with the air,
Free as the wind, I fly.
Soaring the deep blue sea,
I wander to realms unknown.

April 19, 2019

Rain Pt. 2

It rains again,
Nature reveling in her infinite power,
Spewing torrents upon us,
Driving the dry air behind.

I walk through the rain,
Defeated by my last encounter,
Runny nose and red eyes the rain gave me,
Now I carry an umbrella.

The wind howls,
Telling me to lose my umbrella,
Beckoning me to join their dance.
Calling me to play with them.

But, once bitten, twice shy,
I caution myself,
And hold on to the thin umbrella,
Protecting me from pleasure and pain.

And so I watch, wistfully,
At the trees dancing,
The winds laughing,
The water: festal and happy.

I hold my tears,
For I am not a part of all this,
The great uprising must go on without me,
So sleep will yours truly.

March 26, 2019