HOLIDAYS = BORING DAYS

The number of missed shots 

Kept on increasing 

The count of holes on the dartboard

Became countless 

The utter silence 

Completely surrounded me 

And every moment 

Its noise grew louder 

Only the clock 

Ticked away into the silence

As these boring days 

Gently passed by... .

STILL AWAITS

Some misconception 

Still awaits 

Some already transferred

Some curious on their way 

But it was me who did it 

And I regret 

That the truth somewhere lay behind 

Deceived on its way 

And still awaits 

IT WILL TAKE ME TIME FOR ME TO BE NORMAL AGAIN

Having achieved much

Is not always a nice feeling

Even behind the clouds

The sun takes time to come out of the trap

But once you are there on top

On the hill of proud feeling

And watch others working down there

Just close your eyes

Enjoy the moment

Feel the breeze

Because the brain stops working

That those down there

Are working to demolish your hill

And one day you will be in tatters

Even that day will be granted to you

When you will murmur to yourself

“Why did not I work when I was…..”

I glanced at my broken face

The pieces of glass still falling

The blood oozing out of my fist

I could not hear my mom shouting

And I understood that it takes time to be normal!!

10:00 ; WAKE UP SIDD

Finally it is over

Not with joy 

But with a heavy heart 

The epic class 9

A part of me 

Still remains 

Unflinchingly stored in 

Those four walls

And the remaining 

unwilling to face tomorrow 

I think I will wake up 

Probably not in time to see the disaster  

But surely on time to face the disaster!    

TASTED DEFEAT?

Am I the last ?

No,

Or probably yes

I have lost!

Lost in the battle with myself

Lost in the war with confidence

My strengths are wounded

My patience lie dead

My capabilities all used

And no strengths remains

To fight back

"Silence is peace"

Is all I said

When the spear of distress

Pierced away my last hope

I am devastated

Only the crushed paper

Could cry for me

STALK AT YOUR MISTAKES

On the deserted lane 

That traveler brisked upon

Lost his name 

And all the fame 

Thrown in vain

Searching his identity

In hope;

He had gone through 

This path someday

Mocked him on his way 

Even the stone that lay

Trying to search 

From the genesis of mistakes 

And knew that 

"Everyday he walked that path 

He found a new house to discover"

STUDENTS LIFE

This reckless life

Talent goes into the gutter

Imagination fly away

No,

It is thrown away

Student's life

It is like a maze

Opening at every end

But never knowing what

Awaits behind the door

Some keep pushing the wall

Some bang on the ground

While some wait for the others to open

But only a few

Dare to open the door

Which was never locked .

3rd floor apartment window

peeped out

gushing traffic

neon lights

unwanted bottles

priceless persons going penniless

drunken in the smoke

lying around

and hardly someone

soaked into passion

people have forgotten

those people's only

and lonely support is machines

machines did not create us

and we created them

thereafter

the morning milkman

having a grudge on his scooter

getting late for bed

bye

IMMORTAL MEMORIES

Those playgrounds are not of mud

But created out of our footprints

Those benches are not painted

But wet with our hard-work

Dreams echoes in those halls

Our creativity hangs on the walls

The gardener still remembers our mischief

We both could not answer the 3rd question of maths paper

Those corridors still rings up with our laughter

Bell starts our race to ground

And teachers yelling at us

Peon shouting at us

Hosting a crowd of 2000 parents

I forgot my lines

I still recollect

During practice

You laughing on those lines of the script

"Our teachers watch us everywhere"

Finals of football

And I shot the last goal

Against you

All memories flied away with that paper

When you told he is no more

SENTIMENTAL AND MOISTENING

In the temple,

when the eyelashes

cover the eyeballs

retina pictures out god

But in our case

the tension overlaps them

the shine of curiosity is visible

in those small pupils

and the pride of accomplishment

their eyes still can't differentiate between the

rich and poor

can't perceive the amount of money

incapable of winking to hide the truth

cannot manufacture false tears

but ones made

are invaluable

unable to distinguish between the

finest silk suit

or the ragged clothes

it just penetrates deep into the heart

seeking love and care

removing sorrow

they see the world with a low height

still those eyes only give respect

whereas the ones which rules

disrespects many

those eyes do not look here and there for excuses

instead just reveal the truth looking straight

those eyes belong to every small child

I see them many including my sister