FAILURE

As I bite the dust of failure, yet again!
My hearts screams I can take no more pain.
This isn't the first time it is happening,
But the problem is with it recurring.


All those dreams of a fancy life,
suddenly seems dissolved in all this strife.
The mere feeling of not living with pride,
Is like being pierced by a sharpened knife.

It's like being woken from a horrible dream,
Only to be left in the midst of a screaming beam.
With its deafening noise agonizing the wounds,
The wounds of failure and whatever that surrounds.

Why is it that all the bad comes together?
And why choose me of all other?
As these questions and more ring aloud,
Am still wounded by the burst of my dream-cloud.

The real me drowned in the shallow waters of failure,
Hatred towards all is ant act of instant pleasure.
I wonder what triggered all this hatred and grudge,
It's not like they are the cause for this trudge.

I don't know as to where this road leads me,
but any bargain on success would be a shame.
Worried I lay thinking about my failure,
as to what would be left after all these failures.

Ahhhh!

Oh this one is inspired by 3 idiots... Blame me not if you find some traces from a song in there!!

Give me some peace
Give me some life
Give me some happiness
Of living away from this strife.

You are not my girl
You are never gonna be mine
You need to understand
Am never gonna make your life shine

When I ask you to leave
When you make me shout more
When I am endlessly rude
Its time for you to go...

I need to live..
I don't want you to spill..
I am praying you understand
This is not your way.. to life!!

THE SACRIFICE OF ONE GENERATION

Before I type this poem, I need to tell why I wrote this. The other day I was at work and saw a boy who hardly must be 18. From his face I could make out he had come from the north, that is a several hundred miles just to work here. I could see the pain and tiredness in his face but still this boy wonder smiled wide every time he was given a task by his employer. I am sure he was earning not more than a few thousands ( very low even by Indian standards), but made me wonder how useful it would be to his folks back home.

They travel a hundred miles or maybe more
In search of a job rather furore.
You blame them not in case they rot
In a hometown, which seldom taught.

Is it why they travel a hundred miles?
Or is it to give their family a reason to smile?
We do not know if it's peace they find,
But all we know is they are forced into a bind.

The happiness of the job is not their priority
Its more about the smallest currency.
Brothers and sisters now bond with history
With future uncertain, their life is a mystery.

It makes you wonder why they travel a hundred miles,
Maybe because they dream their children living in style.
If only it could make life a fruitful garden,
Their life would be purposeful, though trodden.

Some go a hundred and some even more
Hoping that tomorrow, life would soar.
Its about THE SACRIFICE OF this ONE GENERATION
That would make life easier for their entire population.

MY GIRL

I waited till the day turned dusk and back again
And so on I let it happen again and again.
I didn't know what I wanted, but knew I could find her
and dreamed of the times, that would keep us together.

There are a million in this globe,
which I am sure is a mere under statement.
How am I to know which among that is her?
At least when there are several who could possibly be just her.

Is this what every guy suffers from?
What would you cal this fever?
Some call it desperation, But I just think it's cooler.
Maybe, because it ain't as easy to get one for a prom.

Last night when I was drunk, I saw her fly around.
Happiness made me jump, only to see none were bound.
I wanted to shout- "Hey I saw her, she was the one"
But rather preferred- "why is the rum always gone?"

So she comes in my dreams alone,
Masked by her face, which is all is known.
Thin or fat I don't remember,
Maybe because before I catch that
Mom is here with her own racket.

But, not one day is gone when I dont run behind her clone
Hoping she may be the one- but why the hell are there more clones?
Confused I am, which is not because of her,
but rather wondering, who would be MY GIRL!


Aj

Token

Q2JN3V6F2DZZ

ARMY

This one is a special dedication to the Indian ARMY and for all the soldiers who lost their life fighting for our country.


Standing tall against all
Blood and sweat I recall.
These men do it with pride,
Half of which they never confide.


Life under constant threat,
Still you see no regret.
Living their life for a mother,
A mother who made them all brothers.


Perfection is the word
Indiscipline would be absurd.
Days and nights pass
And this is what they amass.


When it is times of war
Family and friends seem too far.
There is no more dear or fear
Even when they see a blooded spear.


Eating what comes their way
Sleeping when they got none to slay.
Both of which they don't mind sacrificing
Only to see their nation surfacing.


Letting you wilder, because they wouldn surrender,
Their only dream are the borders protected.
For which all life they trodden
And their only wish is not to be forgotten.


Jai Hind
Aj

THE PASSING CLOUD

This poem was writtern because I was always a person who could never stand seperation. But somehow in life the ones who mattered a lot, seldom stayed. And learning it the hard way made me write a poem to all those who arent still clinging on....

P.s: Best friends are forever.... And this doesnt refer to anyone of them!!

The Passing Cloud

There lived a boy

In a world of his own

He dint want friends

Or they didnt want him

But that’s how he lived

In a world of his own

He loved to talk

Loved to chatter

Talk aloud to ones it dint matter

But he didn’t care as he lived

In a world of his own

People came and people went

But no one stayed as a tenant

His heart so weak,

Were empty spaces, seldom filled!

And so he lived

In a world of his own

But when the times changed

His life raged..

People started flooding

For which there wasn’t an ending.

They all came and stayed for long

But no one knows why it didnt’t prolong

The ones he loved and the ones with care

All left him as he stood to stare

May be he changed

Or they did

All he knew was they never stayed

Against which he always prayed

Alert he was

And never shared

To anyone how his life faired

But so it changed

Into a book, always open

To the ones who dared.

Like a cloud torn by jets

The pages of his life

Remained torn by his friends

With wounds that wouldn’t heal

Even if he was big as a seal.

With the prayers unanswered,

The book remained open

Torn and tattered

But that’s what happens,

As he remained forever

A PASSING CLOUD.