A Piece Of Creator's Art.

One lazy holiday morning, 
When I was a silent small kid
with all the mischiefs kept inside
wanted to climb the small hill
nearby my aunt's dwelling.


Those untouched red rocks were calling me 
it read my restless mind plea
"what is there over you
i could only see the sky blue 
when i peek through the window'
there the pretty white and yellow flowers
hugging the rocks says; we possess each other, 
the unnamed unseen little beauty; 
i would love to take a breath from you
want to kiss you 
nothing else which bothers your splendour.


I grabbed a hand of my companion
my childhood companion
Climbed and climbed 
I am there at last, 
I couldn't breath
the beauty of a land made my mind hover
its heaven or may be its broken foyer.


The golden grasses aslant in the wind
and few trees old and strong on background.
and an antique piece of men's art
a half wrecked building halt
yet another tenure
named and seen everywhere.


year and years passed 
am still amazed of that beauty of creation
the creator's hand is always perfect.

My Wish.

My wish,

i wished to be a lover;

Lover of words and letters.

I wanted to read

and once i loved

i read my brother’s junk books i got from the attic.

I read.

some other time later

when i really craved for books

i combed the  libraries

i took some , they had good names, titles;

i read.

but was immovable

with the words, phrases and meanings

i wanted to toss them ,but i never did so,

 something changed ,

the love for someone else's words.

I had pain,

i cried.

It didn’t heal

i had pain, fear, questions

and more than enough

more than enough for a teen.

I wrote;

my pain ,passion , fear, everything

then i felt my mind;

clear and content.

I loved rain,

murmurings of leaves in rain,

i smelled i felt i grabbed,

i wrote.

it was my time with a fire inside

i wrote.

that was it, the best of all time.

Now,

i don’t know what i do

There may be a spring inside.

But feel useless

Like a lifeless tree

hands up asking sun for a rebirth

and feet grounded, asking soil for a regeneration.

oh my creator,

 i also want,

i want my renaissance.