Thunder Storm ⚡

Outside my window, I hear the clouds roaring,

Leaves shivering; trying to hold on to the branches,

Birds struggling to protect their nests,

Bulbs shimmering to safeguard their flame,

People running across the streets to find shelter.

Here I am… separated from all of this,

With just a shield of glass

Shaking under the thuds of the wind.

The air around me is strangely heavy,

A haunting silence prevails.

As I look further inside,

I see a thunderstorm there too…

With leaves of memories shivering,

Childhood trying to hold its nest,

Hope shimmering to safeguard its flame,

And a soul running to find shelter.

Here I am… separated from all of this,

With just a shield of a smile

Shaking under expectations.

Which storm should I protect myself from?

I don’t know…

I never did.

Another World!

I just opened my balcony,

To something that felt like Another World.

Birds were chirping, leaves were rustling,

An unusual sense of peace kept flowing.

Like my thoughts,

The air was slow:

As if catching a long-lost breath.

I turned inside

To face my polished yellow wall,

With a laptop on one side

And a music system on the other

Both buzzing..!!!

With sounds, alerts, and notifications… nonstop.

Reminding me..

Of a fast-moving world

I had, to catch up with.

The Choice was Mine!!

Peace Outside

Or the Chaos Inside?

My mind stayed at the balcony,

While the brain pulled me to the blinking screen.

All I could Whisper was…

Maybe…

Just Maybe…

Next time!!

Normal

In every waking minute of our lives,

People ask us to Be Normal… Behave Normal.

But: What is this Normal?

Being so calculated in speech and action; Is that normal?

Shrinking your Laughter from HA HA HA to hee hee; Is that normal?

Faking Emotions and Hiding Feelings; Is that normal?

Keeping a straight face while quietly murdering your Inner Child: Is that normal?

Cultivating dreams.. So Conventional; Is that normal?

Mastering etiquette while unlearning honesty; Is that normal?

Amassing wealth while refusing to share time; Is that normal?

If this is the NORMAL,

and Being Normal means Becoming Robots,

I solemnly wish to be called…

'Abnormal'

Options People!!

Today Morning when it was bone chilling 03 degrees in Chandigarh, I saw 02 Men!!

One hanging by my balcony with just the support of a harness

And 

the Second One.. a 10 mins Delivery Guy on road... with the delivery paper bag wrapped around his hand and the bike handle.

They don't demand... They don't complain.. They don't argue.

That made me think.. Options are what make us Choose.. To Complain!

It's Only Us, the Privileged who have 'Issues'. 

Survivors like them remain Happy.. Today.. Everyday!! ♥️

The Man with a Few Words

We sit across the same table,

his face poised so many questions.

I don’t have answers; I never did.

We sit across the same table

that always served the crunchiest carrots in the world,

while cutlery played its uninterrupted music.

We sit across the same table,

each half belonging to two different eras.

Eating the same food: our preferences, somehow miles apart.

We sit across the same table

In pindrop silence, some valuables have been exchanged

Principles, Values and Determination to name a few

We sit across the same table— carbon copies of one soul.

I call the other half: The Man with a Few Words:

My Father ❤️

Weird

Weird that's what he calls me these days

From morning to night, he complains

That I don't fight, I smile wider

I don't crib, I listen more

Don't mistake him for being sadist

For he misses the person he fell in love with

Weird that's what he calls me these days

From morning to night, he complains

That I don't eat, I look paler

I want to be thinner, but I am just becoming weaker

Don't mistake him to be a nutritionist

For he always loved the chubbiness of mine

For he is always fond of calling me 'fatty not pretty'

Weird that's what he calls me these days

From morning to night, he complains

That I have been to some hypnosis or metamorphosis

A change.. that he cannot accept:

From a workaholic to a globe trotter

From a miser to a spend thrift

Don't mistake him to be a homebody

For his mission to take me out for a night stroll always failed

For his plans to travel the world were always challenged

All I could do is Laugh on his face

I said Not Me, Weird is what his chooses

He lasted one week with my new silence,

My calm, my detachment.

One fight: where I refused to fight

Shook him more than all our storms ever did.

“Hey… let's be normal,” he whispered.

“Let's not be cold.”

Only two months left in 2025, he said.

He wants to finish the year “normally.”

I held his gaze and nodded.. I want to finish…'everything'… gently.

All I wanted to say but Couldn't

Only two months left… yes.

Not just for the year, my dearest!!

For me too..

With you..

On this planet!!

Woods

 Just walked through the woods tonight

The silence was splendid! It told me stories of ages.. of people, of hopes, of disappointment, of longing.. For these trees are witnesses of Life unfolding through centuries

Midnight Saviours 🚚✨

Irritated by a stubborn cough,

I woke up in the middle of the night

the independent me, armed for a treasure hunt in the cluttered medicine chest.

Multivitamins, Vicks, painkillers smiled and waved at me

Like strangers we meet on the street, 

while we search instead for a friend

who could soothe our heart’s unrest.

My cough started beating drums in the stillness around me

I admitted I need help: But from whom and where

Scrolling up and down, I finally stumbled upon a reliable one:

The Covid discovered Companion of Ours..

Spreading happiness every day, bright and yellow.. a colour for my heart beats

Eight minutes it promised; for my midnight saviour to arrive..

Twenty minutes passed: my heart sank, my throat burned

At 02 in the night I opened the door in an attire fit to scare the wandering spirits

Found him there all drenched with a packet torn and kept close to his heart

Whispering my gratitude: blaming the power cut, I told him he could have left

Expected him to worry about the rating, but his reply tightened my fist

In a trembling voice, he confessed

how he lost his 04 year old, at 02 in the night

Because he didn't have what he required in the medicine chest

In a blink, he left me with his life story,

a strip of tablets for my sore throat,

and a weight on my heart, no medicine could heal

Chandigarh ki Baarish

As the afternoon's silence became too loud,

My mind nudged me to step out

The city is pretty new to me; so are its streets,

I started walking, not caring for the west or east

The rain seems to be really fond of me,

Maybe because our names mean the same.

Just two days to her last visit

Yet she couldn't resist as she found me outside on my feet.

The water painting my glasses made me cold and blind

I kept staring at lights that flickered red, yellow, and green.

A hand pulled me and I slipped, with a shock and a scream

A moment of darkness faded into four smiling faces: a family, whom we often call 'the homeless'.

No words exchanged; the fragile hands just extended a small cup of tea

Nothing fancy, yet the shine in their eyes added all the flavours.. rich, rare and selfless.

Half an hour there; I walked back to my Vihar, Drenched and my clothes still wet

Yet somehow, I was deeply warm

With the tea, and the hearts… of the so called homeless ❤️

Moon and Star

As the clouds dissipated, I settled on my balcony with a cup of coffee 

Fell on me some light.. I looked up to see two pranksters waving at me

Pink Moon.  chubby with some acne marks and the Lonely Star.. tiny but shining bright

Miles apart, they knew they were each other's company tonight

They raised a toast to each other and to me.. forgetting their forever troubles 

One shivering with falling mercury and the other sweating out due to the rising flames

A friendship so uncanny yet seemed so familiar 

All of us are a mix of moon and star.. isn't it?

Riding with a chill beautified face but struggling with a boiling heart!!