"The Soul"

She keeps walking through,

In search of harmony, she moves.

There are diverse elements of her,

Found within, the soul.

Follows love and multiplies smile

Evades grief, strive to adore life.

Happiness alone - she seeks for beloved

Camouflages dejection and aides one and all trouble.

Deep down the aisle, she articulates the bonus hands

From the sun to the moon to all worldly livings,

Never will she reprimand.

Dynamic and composed the heart is,

Barely, seeks for a little.

Bestows tenderness from within, Anticipates zilch!

Still no kindness conveyed.

Fragile is her tough name,

Beneath her, resides a bundle of twinge.

Mean is the human race to not give and only gain,

Nevertheless, the woman is cheerful and finds a grip to pain.

Growing Up!

I was just learning to solve math problems and *BOOM* was out facing the influential human race.  I was 18 then. By the time I dealt with the hardest decision of life, as in which career to choose, I was done with the graduation ceremony.  How I hate the time flying system. 

My days began with phone calls and ended with the plans made at the beginning of the day. Fluttering like a butterfly all around the BOMBAY. Today, I’m lost somewhere within the To-DO-Lists. The day is anticipated and lacks thrill and fun. 

I feel like I am growing old…rapidly! Perhaps, I have. Too many things mean too little to me. I hardly spend time on anything I once considered my own. I thought I would do wonders. But the older I got, I realized the fact that I’ve got lost long ago! Actually, I don’t know what matters to me: My AGE or the CHANGE. No! It’s just that I miss being myself. Miss the planned me.  

I’ve just been pushed into the pool of LIFE – where solving issues has been a part of life. The People, The Thoughts, The Society has been drowning us with some or the other ways. Scary to know that the world you wished for is, fragile. You are surrounded by the dusts and amidst that you struggle to manage a lucid vision. But you are only a human, right?

I’m neither depressed nor out of order.  It’s just that I’m trying to view our stories through my pair of glasses.  I am amused to see how we struggle to get to our dreams.  In spite of being definite, most of them won’t take place in the real world. We hallucinate most of the times and twist them up together and churn them for living.