I refuse to be the robot the seemingly decaying human evolution expects me to be. I refuse to act like I own everything I ever wanted and needed, everything I ever dreamed about. I don’t. I refuse to be your perception. I refuse to be your shadow. …

A poem — poetry (Inspired by village folks struggling and walking miles for water) — The Color of Water If a crazy soul asks what I would wish to be if not the flesh captured as the human skin, would my answer be the element called water, pure, drinkable and great revered even without tangible human sack. Honest and glittering with transparence open to all…

A Poem on the spirit of Humanity — As wind blows through my window And drizzles of rain sneaks in Thoughts start weaving a kingdom Of wondering what I cult I’d belong. Where did I come from Matters no more I hailed from the land That now dries to cracks. Filled with droughts And odd potholes. Where should…

My Sunday fashion — Sheer solace I wondered all my life Where it lies and lives A sheer feeling of magic With a charm that lingers Not that I am an old green Not old enough to be a monk Not so young that I should preen Am Stumbling but not defeated by time. …

A small expression of poem on the journey of life from the childhood. From the eyes of a realist poet. — Childhood was sucked away by the diabolical invasions of time and its raging age borders were crossed thresholds were abandoned life went into a new circle gone beyond and above to nestle well in an open sky of truths and the island of beings old, young and youngest; clouds and dust wind and breezes jolts and journeys from one experience to another wisdom derived…

Like, making happy-all-the-time face an achievement for a display! How does that work out for everyone — just curious. (A reflective prose piece with some splash of poetry). — You could be too happy or too sad. Or it is me who needs to feel that way, where too happy is too good and too sad is too bad. But from the perspective of loud, famous happiness project, even some level of sadness is unacceptable.

Entering the skin and beyond (Poem) — The whole of the body turns into tranquility meaningfully so whose other name is joy when the words of lyrics travel over the waves of music to reach the finest soul; cassettes played by mind songs unleashed by heart the heart feels the words long before they hit the ear the music…

Our life at the mercy of monsoon; rain is back in — I was expecting coruscating sunshine around this time of the month, the month of September, but we could never challenge or read the contract between nature and firmament. The sky had a phone call from the obscure heavens to make it rain again. As if to remind us that somebody…

A tide of musical placidity — A Poem/Self — Heart becomes a feather light as cocoon that yearns for the time when the growing occurred the spirit catches its flight between the melancholy hours that sift through the evening it drifts well and far from one footprint to another rendered on time’s face the heart marveling at fragments of…