Life Lesson

How to love a girl who can’t love herself.


When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.


On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.


Don’t let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says “I think I’m broken” smile like you
know a secret and say, “No, you’re mending.”
But do not be the one to fix her – no, she
must be the one to do it herself, and you
merely are there to quietly encourage her.


Read her poetry (even if you are
not a poet), the kind that uses
flowery words and compares girls to
the moon; the kind that you will
rewrite for her. Make her a warrior.
Make her a goddess with eyes like a
wolf’s and a smile like a tiger’s.


Laugh with her the first thing in
the morning and the last thing before
you fall asleep. Tell her cheap puns
that you’ve been thinking of for weeks.
And when she smiles – the type of smile
that could bring you to your knees if
you aren’t careful – know that for the
moment, she’s yours. She is whole.


Love her. Love her like a fish loves
the sea or a bird loves the sky. Love
her in the way that your heart feels like
it’s going to burst at any moment every
time it beats. Love her skin and the way
it feels against your own, soft and warm
and utterly flawless. Love her for the way
her voice trembles when she can’t keep it
together anymore and love her when she
holds onto you as if you were the only
thing that was keeping her alive.


Love her, because some days she just can’t do it herself.


The Sound Wave

All of my thoughts I concentrate

On sound vibrations of the wave

In verse the feelings I translate

In heart their meaning I engrave


Life is a Coin it has Two stories

When Life Doesn’t tell Both sides of Your Story
I Say just leave the way it is,
let people Keep their Version of Their Story,
And Let You Keep the whole Truth,

Cause its Never enough to convince the masses…
It’ll Always Be a one sided story,
It’s Society,
Everyone Has Their Own Version of How They perceive Your life,

Its all a Show for them…
They won’t approach you To even ask “What really Happened?”
Nor will they Flip the Coin in that Matter…
Its all There for them to their Liking




You never know


As the days passed by, all the faith and trust that was once as strong as a rock began to loosen up into tiny fragments of loneliness, betrayal, sorrow, scattered all around me. The pain is too strong. I am fighting very hardly only hoping that ultimately, all this is just worth the cause. I know that I will not give up, but sometimes giving up just seems right, to see if things would get better if I weren’t a fighter. To see if still an iota of care and concern existed. But I am scared, scared to discover that I am a fool to have stayed around waiting for nothing. People easily move on and I was foolish to wait, to trust that after a dark and long, cold night has passed, will the bright and warm and joyful morning surely arrive. But sometimes, the sun is just too lazy to come up and the morning is still dark and cold, just to indicate that the storm has not passed. It is just to come. You never know.

In the Sky

Dreams float above me

miles and miles of blue

and plush white carries to unknown places


Darkness moves above me

storming light, it’s true

and nightmares against the anger traces.



My thoughts

I was sitting in a coffee shop and watching people coming and going. Everybody seems to be happily coming and chatting, music on, apples and androids, tablets and touch screens and a cheerful environment. There is no such thing as worry/tension/depression which can be seen there and the cash counter busy as usual in taking money nonstop from the customers.

Considering that the Coffee shop is in a posh location, so anybody coming here is not a poor person in every respect and for them money spent on a coffee cup is just peanuts, may be even they can give ten time more here without noticing anything and without any effect on their pockets.

I was questioning to myself that is this is what life is. Is this is the life that you sit in a posh restaurant and enjoy the time, spend money. Yes for some, this is life. They don’t know the word hardship in their lives and the punitive realities of life. The teenagers coming here with their friend have no idea at all what there parents have done to earn the money, their hardship if any, at least they are not aware of those. For them money is a piece of paper which is to be spent and that is all, no matter from where it is coming.


After drinking my coffee cup, I decided to leave with a heavy mind constantly thinking of the atmosphere which I just saw. I went to buy the bread for the dinner. I saw a man there sitting beside a scorching oven (we call it rotti in Hindi language) with cloths wet in sweat, an empty cup of tea near him, making bread (rotti) and doing it nonstop.

There were good number of people waiting for the bread so he was constantly busy in making bread and in every minute or so his hand went to the oven with his face near to the oven to bring out bread. There was a fan functioning for the sake of providing decent air but with constant breakdown in the power it was as good as nothing. This is the continuous routine of this man who starts his work well before the breakfast, lunch and dinner time and in summer when the temperature in our part of the world reaches more than 42’C this is indeed a place not be working more than a minute.

As I was watching him, the atmosphere of a coffee shop flashed in my mind, and the difference of two worlds was in front of me. This person making bread has no idea or maybe he has not even drink a cup of coffee throughout his entire life but he do remember that he has to earn money to feed his kids, to cater for their schooling if he can and God knows what. For him life is a continuous struggle, and there are no favorable conditions in front. With recession on the rise and poor getting more poorer while the richer getting more richer, there is no relief for such persons who worked their sweat out to earn an honest living for themselves and their families.

Yes for some people, life is a bed of rose and for some a continuous struggle. Analyzing the two conditions although happiness and no worries can be seen in the coffee shop but I do wonder that may be this person making bread is calmer, more relax than those at the coffee shop. May be he is earning less but he does not have to take a medicine to sleep, may be what he is earning he is at least feeling a proudness in it, maybe there are no such health problems with him or he may not be even aware of those, may be one of his children can earn him a name in this world by doing something extraordinary which money cannot buy. May be, May be…or maybe not. With this may be and may be not I came back home and wishing that all those persons who make their lives worth living from nowhere have courage and a will to withstand pitiless and harsh destitutions of the life.