My visit to Nainital

My time was opportune as I set off for this place,
Place, which matches a utopia by the heaven’s grace.
Goddess’ lake, as the name suggests - Nainital;
And the sanctity is guarded by the sky touching natural wall.
This valley calls every stranger as does a mother,
I felt this on my approaching way with friends together.


Welcomed, I nested in a place, binocular in nature;
Peeping the valley’s beauty from here was its best feature.
Shopkeepers, of all types, were crooning everywhere;
Essential needs of a human, they fulfil, I swear.
Every corner of the valley, I gazed when rode over the lake;
And beauty is at its perfect efficiency for new onlooker’s sake.


Planning my left day from the boat was an easy thing,
I needed to see that the plan was my budget fitting.
The cold winds from the lake gave a reason to shiver,
My organs were freezing – from skin to as inside as liver.
Caffeine and hot drinks were sought after that ride,
Fantasised the soothed me that the drink was to provide.


The time which followed was flying fast,
Visiting devi after her endeavour’s day was our day’s last.
And she was all beaming in her glorious triumph,
Devotees around were praying, tones going up and then slump.
And the wind backed us as we walked to our nest up,
A sleep between us and next adventure was there to interrupt.


Chirped the morning as we set out once more,
To savour and enjoy the rest part of the tour.
Crept the flying basket on the rope as we watched from inside,
In publicised terms they call it as the “Ropeway Ride”.
Mother Nature caresses with her gentle cold hands every time,
Her blessings for the place are adorable to the levels of sublime.


Securing myself well from top to feet,
Set myself on horse to the peak of Dorothy’s seat.
Magnanimous was the view of town at this altitude,
The cold wind was however very rude.
And with the day descending, we ditto from the mountains;
As another adventure of that place added to the memory of our brains.


Abundance of beauty, creator must have when Nainital’s blueprint on his mind;
As the place creates a charming effect on the visitor as he leaves it behind.
Whenever Nainital comes as my mental picture,
Awaken are the memories of a place in lustre.
And awakens my desire to be in that place again,
Either physically or soaked in my dreaming lanes.

Connections in the Universe

Success is like a bird - when it flies high it is prone (only) to be shot down. Failure is like a mountain - higher the altitude more are the chances to touch the sky. Women are like dreams - always leave us in a state of desire. Men are like jewellery - always like to gather attraction. Children are like god - how much they listen to you is reflected by how much you listen to them. Lectures are like ocean depths - more is their lengths deadlier is their effect on human beings. The loneliness of an introvert's soul and a mother's love for her child - the depth of both is unfathomable. Passion is like the soul - life without both is a dead one.

A soul's despair

I am a free soul, let me respire;
Don't be jealous of my growth and let me aspire.
I am a good soul, let me inspire;
On all the blasphemy existing, let’s call a ceasefire.
I am a brave soul, ready to jump into the fire;
For the sake of others, let’s learn to perspire.

Run, exhaust and dream on your own;
Don’t resist the calmness when you are thrown.
Thrown in the dark alleys of maturity,
In herds, not always but lost is the serenity.
Still a life is not complete in aloofness,
This soul desires for affinity with uncompromised grace.

Burns the fire as if it has no dear neighbour,
Its soul is more energetic than lovers’ in labour.
Pains of hardship are always greater than courtship,
Perhaps the free soul is not available to become a creep.
Toiled soul seeks the bloomed valley,
And doesn’t want to get shackled in a sophisticated alley.


Wonders the soul in his moments of respite,
One life goes by, gradually evading in the night.
Existing things flow away as ashes in air,
Life, relations, countries - everything and everywhere.
And soon things vanish from the layers of memoir,
Nothing remains there to settle and nothing to repair.


This soul is free from the rich and the destitute,
Free it is from the life - which is a hidden brute.
Yet the soul enacts everytime on this earth,
As a pedestrian, on a chilled night, looking for a hearth.
In each form, it is destined for the ultimate goal;
The question thus remains - "Soul, why you become uneasy in this earthly role?"

The Fighting Spirit

And then I fell in that fathomless pit,
To be honest I was young and fit.
Darkness was finding its way inside,
My pulse was struggling in its regular ride.
Eyes were tired, mouth was dried;
Having the pills my skin cried.


Blood inside me was deprived of force,
Force to cut through the valleys of its regular course.
The virus soldiers were merciless at my biological cells,
It seemed no one would live to tell the horror tales.
My senses were kidnapped as I lost their control,
And my strength was challenged from skin to my soul.


My body went musicless as my tired cells,
Desire to see my dear ones resonated as a temple's bells.
And the weight of hell was tearing me like pork,
Demons were eating me all with their knife & fork.
Perish me, O! God, with your speed;
And let me become a soul which is freed.


Words became whispers and hence gaspings,
Death and life seemed to me not separate but siblings.
Seeing them together I asked my soul-
Is this the end of my earthly role?
Heavily medicated, I rested my backbone;
May be another one or is this the last day known?


And years later when I remember that time,
Thank god to help me during my weakened rhyme.
And congratulate myself to have a fighting spirit,
That steers me out safely of every difficult heat.
Let us be strong from inside and let us nurture that thing,
It is your only way out of any suffering.

The Angel I Met Once

Seeing the girl, I was charmed;
Her electrifying personna had my heart rammed.
O! I wish I don't get departed from her,
For eternity, love to become this angel's admirer.


But she is like that wet surface,
When goes - doesn't leave a trace.
And I become the victim of this mirage,
Drowned in her thoughts passed my days.


And when I reeled heavily for her,
I fall asleep and become again an observer.
She calms down my nerves in my virtuality,
No tranquiliser can do so in the reality.


Wind was gushing in and out,
Her memory was around me as a silhouette.
Her materialization fluctuated in fore,
And my pain has its own beauty to adore.


My pain is so subtler than hers,
Cancer was all over her blood layers.
Each passing moment – she gasped to survive,
What could be more horrendous for a child of age five?


She finally responded to her caller,
Her pain relieved and mine got taller.
O! Angel may your soul rest in peace forever;
And my child – your father could forget his angel never.

A Nation's great son

Every country produces it sons,
Expecting each of them to be responsible and patriotic in the long run.
Every motherland is like an asset too close to heart,
Its safety is at the top of its soldier's chart.
These people are not carrying any ordinary thought,
They prioritise their country and then their life in each war they have fought.


A soldier maintains discipline throughout his life,
It helps him in walking on a path which is sharp like a knife.
He distances his family when he prepares for the battle,
Thinking in mind that this is the last one to settle.
And the battlefield challenges his bravery everytime,
His blood is spit in the war as it costs nothing but a dime.


He hates but cuts every opponent's pulse,
Around him cloud of wrath engulfs.
Sometimes he is victorious and sometimes nailed,
Dying for the country's sake is a duty where he never failed.
He sings songs of glory when he is down with courage,
That is how he seeks power from that glorified mirage.


For all these great deeds of a soldier,
For inspiring the entire nation to be fearless and become bolder,
Are his acts of chauvinism properly regarded?
Is the fallen hero's carriage sufficiently barded?
His family may remain in despair forever,
That too for his sacrificing and heroic endeavour.


Still the land would be proud mother of such sons,
In this age of hatred, swords and guns.
And the soldier's soul will always be content,
To live and die for the nation's past, future and present.
Lets swallow this truth and lets not forget this great son,
He who for us refused to have a dream of his own.

Money

Money! Money! Money!
Brighter than sunny
Sweeter than honey
Darker than rainy
A man, in its absence, becomes boney
It's not funny.


By this a man can make other a donee.
Having this money in many,
A man makes himself gainy.
Money's smallest and oldest ingredient is penny
By worrying about it a fat man gets converted to leany
Is very important to take care of my granny.


Its consumers are many
It's more glittering than greeny
By the greed of money,
The love between brothers and friends meets a tyranny.
Money! Money! Money!