It belonged to life

Life under those small roofs

Under the shadow of walkers, stoppers, and smokers

It resisted the shadows, dimming the lights of hope

Every time a shadow passed by, it quelled and cursed softly

It hurted those shadows with small hands and weapons of play

It didn’t knew that shadows were the hope which refracted the lights



As I went through the last bit healing

I could feel the pain piercing through the narrow gaps cuts

It etched and felt the dying pain

The pain and seething for the things I could have done or places I could I lived

As I kept imagining the wounds on my body

I kept looking at the wounds which were healing

Maybe a human soul doesn’t need healing

It needs answer the question arising through combination expectations going through the life

A mind for most humans is like a panoramic view under the holocaust for the heart

Maybe the war of survival would go on in those minds of humans

Living with a smile and anger of a day



The little being struggled to stop the paths,
The path of buzzing, sunlight and the cold chilling winds of morning
Tucked between the sheets, it struggled to keep the brave eyelids closed
As the mom was preparing for the morning rituals
With the dirty sheet, it wandered off the fly from the little hole it had kept between the outer world and the world in sheets
As the smoke and pollution disturbed the lazy fresh morning for the human soul
The little soul still had dreams to discover and some birds not see
The dream was still on his mind tangling and making it play
The honking, the chirps of birds, the shouting of people were all taking the dream away
My bus had just slowed down on the curve where the family lived on the footpath
Maybe the life would change in the uncertainty to make him better
The dream would last inside his head, where nature prompted the worst of conditions for him not see
Though some way nature had planted the dream to give a glimpse of tomorrow,

nasty life · Uncategorized

Incomplete Journey

It was a layover for just over an hour, my bus ride would take me straight into the mountains of the north of Sikkim, maybe. Maybe is the word used because the region had seen some heavy snowfalls and landslides during the last few weeks. The region is said to have a very sensitive climate.

I am not even sure if I would ever reach the region. The initial permit required to reach region was not granted to by the magistrate at the Sikkim office. So as rebellious I was a three month of jail or fine of 1 lakh rupees or both didn’t scare me at all.

As I sat there looking facing the crowded bus stand with people moving in all directions. Most were the local people going home after the daily day’s work. The region was still tough to crack open with the mind of an outsider looking to fit in. I saw a figure covered all the body regions from my left side I only saw nameplate of a book. “Mein Kampf a biography of Hitler”, now though I am not a hypocrite still it seems unusual for a person to read such a book at a crowded bus stop.

The boring bus stop triggered my hope to go out and get a better look of the person. I sneaked from the side to get a better view was I reading the book title right, and checked it. I was now only 15 to 25 m away from the person, then a bit startled the person looked straight towards, I almost frizzed under the stare. The person adjusted the seating and removed the covering cloth on the face. The small face had given up the identity of her body.

It was one of the most majestic aura of living I had ever seen, the flinch in her eyes was so strong that it had hypnotized me without a warning. As I got almost floated up beside her trying to read her eyes, she hadn’t blinked for a second nor did I.  As I came beside her, carrying my heavy rucksack which felt light on those steps.

She patted the seat beside her, it looked as if she was saying coming we can read together. I sat beside her the people in the background has just seemed to have become the near moving pillars; I was least interested in the words and more inclined towards her eyes. Transfixed into her eyes the beauty just capsulated me in the shell of vision. It didn’t flint and I floating towards the Trans of her interior, she had now covered her face again the only thing I could see was her eyes.

I had forgotten about my journey my adventure nothing could be completed without her being without any sense. The sense that now had taken over me was making me fade away from the season the regional apathy of life towards solution and prayer.

Suddenly she got and looked towards me before I could react. She kept her right hand on my shoulder, don’t we can’t make it work out. I sat their making sense of my life and how can it be so cruel to me.

In the end, I was arrested and released after few days on the basis of being too adventure freak, the only thing I remembered was the capsuling eyes and day I left Sikkim.



As I rubbed the pain on my knee caps, it felt as if that knee caps had broken into pieces. The eye lids were in distress of constant sharp light coming through them. The night was feeling long away from over. I was fully dressed on the upper body but my lower body was more like a patio being mowed by a bull. As I creeping opened my eyes to let the light slowly slip in through the space.

Covered with blanket it covered my knees which I was rubbing over the cover, half of the bed was still neatly made. There was big Italian framed photo on the wall with two people looking at each other smiling. The walls were dimly colored with light blue and sun’s yellow color on the pillars. The pain in my knees has now reduced to bits and traveled below the knee line covering till the toe; it felt better. Though everything seemed kind of familiar but it felt like an alien space to me.

On my side there was a glass of water along with a diary. The water was easy target but the diary seemed more tempting when you don’t have the sense of your being. With my hand I felt the hard bounded cover it was simple, grab and run, the hand writing matched with mines but not the words. I felt like being dragged out of my mind where the words I had never seen, never written or even never felt that they had left my eyes. The first page dated back to 19th November 2016; I was discussing about my birthday party and lacy.

As I felt the uneven thoughts coming through those pages I rubbed my knees again the pain had vanished by now and it felt like I could standup. As I uncovered the body, it felt like cold syringes on my feet. I glanced through the last few pages, and went to the last one dated on 5th May 2017. You shouldn’t dance with so much Horn maybe the death star will see and get jealous of you. Lucy as always like a grace, love her and hope she has a great time. “Next time no cocktails only whiskey”.

Suddenly there was knock on the door and a lady walked in with few coffee cups and bread. Surprised and embarrassed about my situation I regained the cover over my body.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I am Lucy your wife.”

“Read this Q-cards” As she handed my some cards written with my own handwriting and signed by me and a doctor named Dr. Suchi.

The first Q-card read of my birthday and my wife with a photo; who was now making coffee for me. Second was describing my condition “” latter were the stuff about my daily activities and life.

As I went through them bewilderment I looked on for some other aspects. Lucy Said “You shouldn’t dance so much you already have a knee problem look at those sore feet”. As she hugged me.

Another entry in the Diary.