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. …

#68 What lives inside you, if I may ask? — Note: Since I suspect some of my medium pieces were automatically deleted, I thought it is a good practice to put a number to my medium post from now on. It matters to find out what lurks under your skin whether an ocean with frozen waves staring at others for hidden perks or…

#67 Your need, your literature, the prize you craved for years — I am the words you read in a book you come here to flip through the pages as I pour all my emotions unafraid But I am always irresistible to your eyes whether I am still or flowing in my language you love me when I bring it here but you love me more when I…

Still the best human quality — the lesson I learned from my life’s encounters with incessant glamour. — I opened the box this morning for the gift I would love it was simplicity in it I denied it first and I regretted denying it as the evening swung by The power of simplicity goes far deeper than any of us ever knew. …

No longer strong, fading on me — The Weight of Shadows (Getting weak, fading on me) At dawn when sun gets freed from the chain of horizon I break free from the night’s deep clutch of sleep no fuss of ugly music fills me but I do yet swell with resonance of birds the tempting turpitude that morning is crowned with new promises, lusters of…

The special place — The paint is peeling off the old house where we lived but the memories are a child it remains dim in a dingy room like a handsome man’s gloom in my head somewhere how can I be rid of the episodes never forgotten heart goes alive in a low sigh mind gathering…