"As a small child, I felt in my heart two contradictory feelings, the horror of life and the ecstasy of life."-Charles Baudelaire

There's an invisible world around us, filled with nameless fears and invisible faces....

And cluttered bizarre thoughts running stray,

And empty streets like ashtray,

Some filled to the brim with soot and clay...

And some clowns throwing candies and licorice, rotten to the core,

People begging for such sweet treats and more...

They grin through the paint, grotesque and unique,

Ecstasy blended with agony, and sunlit trees.

“Drowning past sorrows and regrets, in coffee and cigarettes...”

I try finding myself in the rising steam of a coffee cup,

in a crowded unfamiliar coffee shop...

In every book I have ever read,

In every man I've taken to bed...

I tend to find a semblance of me,

A speck of light in a dark room which I can not see...

Sometimes when I hear people call my name,

I try putting the pieces together which are not quite the same.

Whenever I look at the image in the mirror looking back at me,

I wonder who gets to choose, me or the image staring back at me?

There is so much to do yet nothing left to be done...

So far whatever knowledge I've acquired, however little I've achieved,

Would it be enough to shine on the dark side of the road I haven't reached?

"A secret is not something unrevealed, but something told privately, in a whisper." -Marcel Pagnol

Whispered secrets are hidden here,
Kept safe from curious stares.
The mind knows its way.
Thoughts are shaped like clay.


Whispered secrets are hidden here,
With utmost love and care.
Funny how the treasures are lost in the labyrinth of the mind.
Though most may be forgotten ,some one may find.

Whispered secrets are hidden here,
Away from harm's way, safe from wear and tear.

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” - Oscar Wilde

Reality seems harsh to me,I seek refuge in dreams,
Where I can change things at my whims.
Where fancies take strange shapes,
I can taste sweet escape.
Where colours blend into music and I hear melody.
No touch of reality can mar this ecstasy.
Yet dreams are transient beings,they disappear at the break of day.
No matter how much I wish,it fades away.
Woken up to another day,going through the same dull routine.
Memories of the last vivid dream,somehow wiped clean.

"This fugitive memory I'd would so like to capture,is dwindled..."

Days flow into nights,nights into day,in a rush,
Words into memories,a whisper,all hush.
Essence of a moment,a faint fragrance,somehow faded.
All seem forgotten,as a new day is awaited.
Is it a need for survival which makes us forget the past?
Through all the sweet and bitter memories that last.
Yesterday makes today and the day after,
Made of joy,tears and laughter.
Which makes what,smug in the knowledge of being better?
Is it the word or the letter? 

“Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision” -Ayan Rand

What does it mean to be brave?
To go through the day, keeping your ideal safe?
There are too many doubts, so many obstacles to stop you on your way,
Is it brave then to mean what you say?
People say horizon is an imaginary line receeding as you approach it,
Is it brave to follow your distant dream no matter what hurdle you meet?
Maybe, it is a complete misconception,
Its not really being brave but foolish, as people mention.
What does one get by resisting the flow,
Keeping one's head high and ideals higher even after dealt with every crushing blow...
It's safer to be like clay, to be moulded as they may...
Only if you can keep your thoughts and questions at bay.
When question arises one can not be neither complacent and ignore,
It grows at your mind, unless you're not too sure.
You can not possibly follow the general course, it does not make sense anymore.
You're ready to be burnt, beaten and broken,
To rest your mind, to face the doubts so rudely awakened.
Thus we came back to the actual question,
Is it brave to be different?

Life is a Journey

I stand listening to the sound of the sea on the shore,
I feel stirrings deep in my being, an excitement that fills me to the core;
I feel the need, the thirst to know,
Questions that haunt me cloud my vision and yet they show…
A long winding path that lies before me,
Beckoning me, tugging at my soul, there are more things than my eyes can see…
I must make my way alone, arming myself with love and faith,
Even though I feel hopeless and scared with every passing breath.
I need to walk down the road,
To find my way or to be lost again.