Blinking deliberately

“And everything just changed in the blink of an eye”

Well, nothing changed for me in a blink of my eye. I was just stating a quote, you must have heard it before.

Have you ever lay down in your bed and just started to blink your eyes for no reason at all? On and off! On and off!

blink 3

I did that. It started as fun but continued to become contemplative. Blinking my eyes,living in brief moments of light and darkness in my room, with one comes and another goes repeating the music of ephemeral life. With each wink, the light and darkness talked to me differently, making me perplexed which one of them I like the most. With light, there are vibrations, but with darkness, there is a flawless silence. But what I was searching for is the utter peace. I didn’t find it. There was chaos everywhere. but isn’t it what we call life.

I was blinking my eyes for the choice to see imagined versus real. Well, they both breeze in amazingly and knock the clock of my mind. I lived them both but again for a transient period with each wink of my eye. But something was constant with this blinking, the awareness that my heart is still beating, my brain is still thinking, I am still alive to make my today and all the coming todays an improved version of previous today. Life is too short to live upset, angry, resentful, ungrateful or holding grudges but to be inspired with the life given to us.

It showed me a small candle in my heart ready to be ignited and a void in my heart needed to be brimmed with the extra positives to nullify my negatives.  My blinking eye then got aligned with my soul to find  a a deeper perspective beyond the surface of things and making me lost in some dreamy world which seemed to be eternal.

This is where i realized that i am sleeping with no more blinking.


Happy New year

Happy New year my fellow readers. 

May this 2018,

Brings you the eternal shine,

May this coming year,

Brings you closer to near and dears.

May this 2018,

Gives the urge to fulfill,

All your honest dreams till infinity.

PS: the image has been taken while lightning the sky lanterns at New year celebration in my institute, ALL INDIA INSTITUTE OF MEDICAL SCIENCES, NEW DELHI, INDIA.

Almost there

“Almost”, what do you think of this word? When do you use it? Is it a sad word or a happy word for you?

It sure gives a brief sense of contentment because of the word “most” in it, but when it comes with “al” in it, it’s the most unfinished word in the dictionary.

“I almost did it”, but almost, not thoroughly.

“She was almost good for him”, but she is not perfect for him.

“They almost made it”, but couldn’t succeed.

“I almost quit”, but still I am trying.

It’s a big word, in the sense you can feel it everywhere, a sense of uncertainty, insufficiency, an impression of wanting, trying and hoping. You must have heard it like a thousands times, “Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe. I am hoping for that.” Every almost has a story behind it. You can call it a six alphabet story, ALMOST.

Nobody wins or loose entirely. It always revolves around almost. Almost win or almost loose. Because it’s a series of action to achieve a certain result. You can’t just overlook the steps taken to reach the final destination. Though there is a failure at endpoint, but still there might me some achievements in the process to reach the almost final destination. 

So what do you think? What vibes do you get from your almost? Does your almost gives you encouragement because you have reached your almost point in your attempt, the number of attempts doesn’t matter. Or it conveys a feeling of breakdown for reaching almost but not final purpose?

Since I want to be optimistic in every possible scenarios, I want to add a positive saying in the last that uses the word almost,

Motivation will almost always beat mere talent

Via daily prompt: almost

Power of poetry


An art of writing, 

lucid and unique,

Some being expressive,

Some being undefined,

Based on the reader’s state of mind.

Beautiful verse,

With unadorned words,

Like a riddle,

Has different ways to interpret,

Where the words speak for themselves,

Where the words find their relations,

This is the unseen power of a poem.

It dig the meaning so deep,

Can calm down the savage beast.

It adds beauty without any makeup,

From the beginning till the end.

Filled with true emotions and thoughts,

With few words to construct,

Meant to touch  the reader’s heart.

In the sea of rhythm and imagination,

It can instill new set of perceptions.

In the strength of words so pure,

It can unchain the tamed soul.

The resonance of its rhythm,

Becomes the voice of the person,

Who is not allowed to be spoken.

The set of poetic words,

Creating an unknown whirlwind,

Where the time can stand still.

The virtue of poetry,

Is the channel of receptivity,

Is the healing avenue,

One must pass through.


Via daily prompt: relate

(un)known answers for (un)known questions

Perpetual waves of questions,

Filled with mysterious conundrums.

Reasoning what, when, how and why,

Beyond the conscious state of mind,

Either with harsh truth or subtle lies.

Brimmed with turmoil and fluster,

In every possible explanations

As there’s no satisfactory conclusion.

Knowing the answers,

Yet hesitate to explain,

Reversing the question,

By questioning the answers,

Again and again.

Trying to search

For some decorative words,

To answer the question

Though in a complicated demeanor.

Seeking the answer in the empty night,

For the questions which rises in sunlight.

Wandering in pursuit of utter understanding,

For some convoluted,yet true feelings.

Startled to tell the one that cares,

For fear of hurting them sooner or later.

Choose to stay silent than some incoherent explanations,

Either to make them understand the real answer,

Or just to avoid the distressing situations.

But it’s not always this way or that way,

There’s always an unsettling third way.

Because life is not just black and white,

But the shades of grey from every sight.

Comes with certain unwanted life and time,

Where right and wrong have no redline,

Where heart and mind begin to fight,

Throwing the answers to a questionable height.


Via daily prompt: confess



Screams from within

Hello everyone. Hope you all have a good day. Well, as those who read my previous post about my writer’s block ( those who have not read it, its a poem about my writer’s block, you can read it via this link, dedicated to my writer’s block), knows that i had some doubts and difficulty in arranging my thoughts and pen it down. I thought of talking to myself for a while. Well, i talked, all i come up with are some somber thoughts, though i don’t want to dig it deeper. But i think, sometimes, its fine to get a bit depressed. So here’s how i arranged my today’s thoughts. Its not a type for “a ray of sunshine”, but i hope you get the message behind it.

Her silent dissent,

Against the social wicked precept,

Full of inner rage and disgust,

To which everyone is stone deaf.

They paint her existence,

With inaccurate colors and shades.

Put her fabricated being in front of mirror,

Forced her to believe in the deception,

Of her distorted illustration.

Locked her thoughts and see,

Her futile attempts to release,

After handing her the wrong key.

She swallow their words as a whole,

As the result of her silent rebellion.

These corrupted words,

Left the imprints on her heart,

Shattering her truths in parts.

She screams from within, where no one hears,

She cries from within,with no more tears.

She stumbles in her own presence,

She finds herself wrong in her own assumptions.



Endless repetition

A Pattern of Repetition,

A custom of recurrence,

Becomes a string of rhythms,

Engraved in our imagination.

We make the same mistake twice,

And expect the aftermath to be right.

We keep stopping,

Without actually going around.

The past enact it’s place again,

Hovering over the light of present,

Like an old huge circle,

Moving within its frontier,

Yes, we have been there before,

And will be there again.

It’s an endless cycle of repetition,

Ringing the bells of preceding events.


Do we really ponder,

To paddle this cycle of repetition,

Where our past may repeat it’s terror,

Where a question may lost its meaning,

By repeating every minute and second.

Is this bearing,

Worth repeating?

Her silent cacophony

Everyone admires her calmness, her tranquility. In reality, they want her silent and stillness personality. They were afraid of her voice, capable enough to defeat their lies. She was a stone once, capable enough to bring ripples in the river. Now she is just a feather, quite unsubstantial, flowing with the flow of the river. Now she is tired. Nobody knows that she holds back her silence in the mayhem of this community. She lost the symphony of her words into the sound of this cacophony. Now, she can’t trust herself to bear the burden of her broken silence. She is frightened and anxious. She cries but silently, she thinks but quietly, she talks but mutely. Her infinite and default vitality is covered by the heap of fictitious axioms, impeding her value of thoughts. Now she has to admire the beauty, the bogus beauty of the mankind, the beauty which is still not attained. She has to agree on everything, every wicked lie to persist her enforced symphony, a symphony which is a lie to her given by the society. 

Now, she is the regent of symphony which came at the cost of her silent cacophony.

Via daily prompt: cacophony