We are all Gypsies here!

This is the post excerpt.


Glad to see you here
I am a commoner, just like you and everybody else. As days pass by transforming into months flowing into the ocean of years, we stash away our memories into the less remembered space, we hide away our feelings going with the flow of this world pretending we are made of steel unaffected by the lowly emotions. Things which hold the world’s importance gradually fade away, losing it’s imprint, eroding away, till they lose their existence in this universe. We are strange beings, strangest thing being our ability to heal, to forgive and to forget. The raw feeling of hatred which once consumed the core of our healing with time, leaving a scar for the memory. We forget those happy times, which lit up the entire world, like a Christmas tree. We trudge on and on in this stony path not knowing where we’re headed; just taking one step after the other.
Walking on the stony road, taking one step after the other, I could no longer let the feelings get away without preserving them! What astonished me the most was the beauty of these feelings; so raw and so unique that one could never feel the same shade of emotions again. They were like rainbows, different vibrant colours mingling with one another; so simple and yet too complex. After much deliberation; something hesitatingly brought me here. I want to take an attempt to preserve different shades of feelings: perpetually. After umpteen years, as I look back, I hope that I have something to cherish, something to relive again, or something to laugh about and not just a dead soul with an alive body.


A Scornful Fairy tale

Don’t you just love a fairly tale?
With a king, and a queen
Wild butterflies and lilies
Well, I do too!

A Scornful Fairy tale

Here I tell, A scornful tale
Of a vast, majestic kingdom
The walls so high
Till your eyes get shy
The sky melting to a rainbow.
The king so strong, an ideal man
A lover’s dream,
A rival’s terror
A man of utmost vigor
He paced about; up and down
The palace made of lac
She came to view
In a lovely gown
Adorned by precious jewels
Her skin so smooth
Her heart so kind
The bards engraved her name
The queen, who else?
They paced together
Hand- in- hand
To greet their precious subjects
Oh What a perfect fairy tale!
I almost got teary!
Oh my friend!
Just wait and hear
There is so much more to this
A plague so dark
Had swept it all
Their laughter and their joys
A lady so alluring,
A lady so compelling,
A lady so enchanting,
Took a step forward
To the lac palace
And the king’s heart.
Her playful ways,
Her concealed heart,
Sent the queen grimacing
She begged!
She wept!
She threatened!
She enraged!
But all was lost in vain
Her place reduced
To a mere ghost
In her own home; so called
And the king’s heart.
The mistress,
Consumed it all
The king, his heart, his power
All at a flicker of a second!
As greedy as a pig she was
Wanting more, seeking more
Ruled the kingdom
Dominated the palace
Her greed just got greedier!
For one thing she couldn’t snatch
The innocence, the pure
so pure
That belonged to the only one
Ordered her death
Oh! Our poor queen
The king became the murderer
A worthy show it was
Watching the fire consume
The simple trace of her being
The mistress the circus master
The palace the circus
Her greed so strong
An untameable animal
Was out hunting in the open
The king so sweet
Her dearly lover
The pawn of her morbid game next
Irked the animal in her so wild
Consumed by the folly
Maddened by the misery
She took a grave decision
Oh! What a agonizing
Yet mesmerizing sight it was
Watching the ferocious fire consume
The brilliant piece of art
The lac palace
Bit by bit
Complemented by the screams
Of our beloved king
The passers-by had their eyes glued
To this maddening show of malice
Till not a trace remained
Just the alluring mistress
Laughing hysterically
Tears rolling
For this scornful fairly tale,
She had threaded!
For the history,
She had written!
She rose again
Like a winning warrior
And prodded forward
Step by step
For her next quest
For her next piece of art!



Scars, that mark you for lifetime and beyond, embedded in you, more faithful than your shadow!

Scars, not only the ones which mark your skin, but the ones which mark your soul!

Scars, which shape your existence, your destiny, your complex mind!

Oh, those beautiful scars, engraving your existence!


You carry it so beautifully
A flawed skin they say
Marked with ghostly lines and shadows
An epitome of imperfection
The radiance you emit
Illuminates the darkest of darkness
Like rays of sunlight
Struggling to penetrate the dense forest
The shield so strong you’ve built
Cascading it all
The mockery,
Words of attack that seem harmless,
To the eyes of a commoner
The resentment,
And the silent hostility
Trying to burn you alive.
They admire your boldness
They bicker about your naivety
They sympathise with you;
Your scars, your bleak life
They give you little than a glance
But you carry it all
Like bejewelled gems
Of your thorny crown
They often wonder,
Some even amused
“How you carry your nasty scars
Like a priced possession?”
To that you smile and reply,
“Isn’t everyone a little flawed
In this flawed,
Oh! so flawed


This existence?

How often have you felt, lost in the labyrinth of never ending mazes, walking on a foreign road, where the entire world seems to know where they are going, and you do not?

How often have you gone, to those spiritual shrines, to the one with unimaginable powers, begging to guide you to a purposeful path, but with all in vain?

How often have you strayed away, from the path you’d supposedely built for yourself, coming back to it in regret, getting swayed by the fancies again?

How often have you lived and just lived, merely by existing and not living?

How often have you asked yourself this?

This existence?

Seems like we are all the pages
Of an old rusty book
Long forgotten at the back of the shelves
Faded pages
Which was once wild with hope
Like a bubbly child radiating the entire palace
We are like a dusty lowland
Once alive with life
Long swirly creepers entangled everywhere
Glistening the ray of sunlight to an unfathomable mystery
Damaged are these pages now
Our wild seeds of hope
By your twisted ways and your morbid thoughts
You turned the pages bit by bit
Waring them out until they fade away
You willed the world to move on
From the sparkles and wonders of my magical pages
You slowly pushed me back to the sidelines
Till my mushy greenland turned to a dusty desert
Till my creepers died
Gasping for their last breath
Till the long gone pages of the book lost it all
And now we stand
In loss of words
Randomly rambling around
Attempting to sway the attention
Till we lie half- dead at the back of the shelves



Well, here comes the first!

This is what you may feel, at random times, as you swirl past your happy days and fall into the trap of the not so happy days. In the middle of the night, when your throat is as parched as a desert, looking for an oasis, surrounded by the storm of horrid nightmares; you succumb into this feeling of helplessness.


Looking for the peace of mind
But what do you see?
A whirlpool of misery
Entangling you in a mystery
Clear your head you want to
A gulp of fresh air you need?
Wake up from the slumber, old son!
For serenity you’ll never see
Go, run, fly
Escape this dungeon of illusions
While you have 2 arms and 2 limbs
For they will be torn
Bit by bit
Ounce by ounce
A gala night it will be
Feasting on your meat
And you will be rotting in a corner
Wallowing for their ill deeds
They will take your soul away
Sucking it with a vacuum of monstrosity
Till you remain a hollow box
A blank book, runny ink, washed away
By a viscous storm
“Who am I?”
You will bawl everyday
Asking every stranger on the street
In utmost vain
You will wish for mercy
From the highest of lords
Begging for forgiveness
For the act you’d never done
Escape the dungeons, old son!
While you have 2 arms and 2 limbs
For you will rot for life and beyond
Wishing for the grotesque tides
To wash you away
Like how they wash away
The majestic sand castle
Erasing away
A trace of its existence