Commotion of Emotions

Not many people grab hold of opportunities when they come to them. It's like a 3 year old playing with a gold coin - it's meaningless to him, or he simply fails to see the gravity of the material. Nevertheless, falling down in the first place teaches us to look at the ground while running. But life, as a game of chances offers second chances very rarely. And we as failures, are always on the prowl for them - hoping and praying for second chances. Chances Distilled as water from the clouds, Cleansed like the mud post flood, We stand holding torches - eyes shut. In a field of newfangled dexterity, As chances passing by laugh at our stupidity. Too much time do we take to open our eyes, To realize long ago- the flame has died, And the torch is merely a stone to be lied. We shout, we stumble, we fall, And raze to the ground what once stood tall. Masquerading self in a party of imposters, Pointing out mistakes on everyone else, But just as always...

There are seven billion people on the planet. That is a huge number. So, if a few hundred or thousand die sometime, would it mean anything? A few thousand doesn't sound much. But somewhere, these many deaths could mean the annihilation of an entire species. 3000 tigers, 1500 giant pandas, few thousand whales, 100 red wolves, as low as 60 Javan rhinos. 60 in the entire world! How could any sane living being let this happen? We declared ourselves proprietors of the planet and led it to doom! The ghost of tomorrow is what's racing towards extinction today, be it the entire earth, or a single soul. The Ghost Of Tomorrow   The ghost of tomorrow, Is staring right at you. Can you see it? Or are you too blinded by avarice? The ghost of tomorrow, Shall not speak. For it knows you act not in haste, But only mourn when the deed is done. The ghost of tomorrow, Can see itself alive. But you do not see it now, For a ghost is what shoots your senses. ...

Almost never are things the way they appear. Yet, even involuntarily our appraisals are based on how they look. Because we are lying on an intricate web that strangles all that who don't follow its norms, and moreover, who has the time to comprehend someone else? When our identities to ourselves are afloat in darkness. When all life isn't enough to understand yourself! So, perhaps to save time, we judge everything by the way they look. What Lies Inside What lies inside, Isn't published so easy; For it takes generations of skill beside, To steer through concrete hurt yet freezing. Love of the wrathful boy, Or hatred of the loving; All is kept coy, Secrets unfolded only when the dead stop breathing. For Once upon a time, Hatred and Ego indulged in a fight. 'Your existence is a jest without me' Ego cried. 'I rule you, I fuel you, yet - let the Gods decide.' 'Your God has left you long' Hatred smirked. But the God...

                It was 25 th of December and I was in Kolkata. I had been in Kolkata for the past three years, but this was my first Christmas in the city. Every year perhaps I was the first one amongst my friends to rush home post examinations – The night after the final exam. But I decided to stay for a week and experience the enthusiasm of the city on Christmas, after all, people talk about Christmas way before it arrives. Park Street! Park Street! Burger at Park Street! Night out at Park Street! That is all I’d heard in the name of the festival.                 So, there I was, in the evening, getting all styled and dressed and ready to explore. One thing that I had realised in my stay in the city was that, you can never be at par with the clock, executing your plans when you are with friends. “Where’s my shoe now?”, “I don’t think I should wear this jeans!”, ...

The moon is staring at me; And I am staring at the moon. It’s peeking through the dark clouds, I am adjusting for a better view. It’s laughing at my existence, I’m laughing at its distance. The moon is turning blood red in anger, I witness it at the horizon; But what does the moon really think ? For I think it looks beautiful! A suspended ball bound to rise and set, A floating soul rising and setting. A spherical light in a murky setup, A man lost in questions in a world of answers. The moon is still staring at me, And I’m still staring at moon.

Every living creature on the planet wants to survive. Every living creature is programmed to push further its species.  But why? Why is everything the way it is? Why does evolution take place? What purpose does all this serve? What is life anyway? So many questions and so less answers. So here's another story out of fiction.                                                         When Life met Death A long time ago there was a craftsman, envied throughout the like and hated by the inconspicuous. Some considered his powers to be a gift but many related it to the curse set upon his father – The Caliph – when he had set out to do things that aren’t to be named. But just like the clown that gro...

Taking a break from daily life is necessary, because you're not superman. The world may have equal good and bad, but the bad is easier felt than the good. If you don't let go of all 'bad' that you've been collecting in daily activities, it will burn you. Break Trapped in a box devoid of fluoresce, And it's getting dimmer by the minute. Someone switch the lights on, Because people are tripping on baubles. The walls are drawing closer and closer, It's not long before they cave. But it's no issue; not of concern, The riches will fly off; the wretches will die. Dark wakens the nightmares, They're crawling all over the place, They'll hold onto you and digest your brain, Perhaps they already have!             Where's the sympathy?           Where's gone humanity?          ...