A wish

I once heard a strong voice,
It asked me weather I have any wishes.

I sprung up in joy n asked how many,
U can have as many wishes u wish to, said the strong voice.

I took a deep breath n began to wonder,
I can ask for wealth, but wouldn’t that be plunder??
I soon realized that what I would ask for is not wealth n power.

So I wished for a girl with a golden heart
With who I cud give life a brand new start

I said I want a girl whose smile is more precious than rear gems
A girl who would laugh so open and loud that it would scatter a crowd

A girl who sees life in a different way
Who loves to travel but still can’t stay away

A girl who would walk a mile to help a stranger in need
And yet would not tell a soul that she did a good deed

A girl for who life is animated
And wants to live in a world that she has created

A girl who deserves to be treated nothing less than an infant
A girl who is more tender and delicate than a newly blossomed bud

A girl with hands softer than silk

The voice, bedazzled n confused said, there is no such girl foolish one
And I replied in a voice now stronger than the strong voice.

U can keep your wishes to your self coz voice I don’t need them no more
What I wish for I already have

For a while

For a while my eyes went ablaze,
For a while my body ran cold.
Beauties were many but u were beauty divine,
More intoxicating were you than an age old wine.

For a while I lost my wit,
For a while I gasped for air.
For you stood there a moment,
And you took the moment away.

For a while I stood still,
For a while I felt nil.
A sight of yours and the earth I felt no more,
Heavens fell on me, left me with a festering sore.

For a while blood gushed to my feet,
For a while my heart seized to beat.
I failed to comprehend wrong and right,
All but lingered was your delightful sight.

For you the celestial being had left me diseased
With some thing I felt never before.
Your fragrance had, had encapsulated me,
It clinched me from head to toe.

August was ending clouds were mending
And time was preserved for eternity.

--------

Wish to be a writer
I feel like writing about red roses and gardens and rivers
But that would make me a lover
I feel like writing about life, death and pain
But that would make me a philosopher
I feel like writing about poverty, hunger and education
But that would make me a Social Worker
I feel like writing about what is and what was
But that would make me a historian
I feel like writing about the ideal world
But that would make me a politician
I feel like writing about what is right and what is wrong
But that would make me a Critic
I feel like writing about how things are and how they can not be
But that would make me a cynic
I feel like writing about peace and tranquility
But that would make me a believer

Wonder years

I wish I could roll the clock back to yesteryear

To the days when imagination had wings
and toy guns made us more power full than kings

To the days when bruised knees were an everyday thing
and only question in our mind would be 'ma what did you bring'

To the days when Injections were no less than nuclear weapons
Doctor the predator and we the prey
To the days when we thought closing our eyes and bloating our mouths would make the pain go away.

To the days when school was prison
and sitting beside a girl was a punishment

To the days when we made engineering marvels with pillows, sheets and empty cartons and making cakes of biscuits made us a chef.

To the days when we thought the opposite sex came from mars
and babies were born just by kissing.

Never to come again 'wonder years ' have gone by
we could have embarrassed that time or we could have give it a try.

Snippets from something nice a wrote

It’s a widely known phenomenon that booklovers of the country are concentrated in Kolkata and Banglore but the state capital in days to come, could give these metro cities a run for their money when it comes to books. Raipurits have certainly started to think beyond fairy tales and the Harry Potter saga. Rather people have picked up a fancy for comprehensive range of books from novels to books of Indian and International history. Although number of pseudo intellectuals and pretentious readers has also increased who read just for the sake of being called scholarly or just because every one else is reading. It may be the extravaganza of multistoried, metro city like shopping malls that is giving rise to pseudo-intellectuals in the capital city or may be people genuinely have developed a taste for good books. What ever may it be, fact is books no longer remain a way of time killing and it could be said, people have taken to reading as a hobby for which they are steeling time from their packed schedule.