Illusional hope

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Whenever there’s this spark,
Whenever there’s this sliver
Of light,
Whenever I’m lost
In this illusion
Of happiness,
Whenever I’m away
From reality’s scorching beams,
Into a world of dreams,
One of happiness,
I try to hold on,
Clinging
So as to not fall off,
Into the trench meant for me
And become frozen
And then again, burnt
In place;
Whenever I see
A slim opportunity
Of a beautiful destiny,
I try to climb on,
I try to hold on
And rejoice
In the land of dreams
Like it was meant for me to be.

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Savings

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Penny by penny I saved

And then lost some.

I saved a little more,

Even when I was tempted not to.

I spent some more,

Saved some more,

And in the end,

A well-wisher friend called me ‘lavish’

And made me save so well

That after a year from now,

I’ll have a decent amount 

Saved in the bank.

If only my friend hadn’t insisted,

I would never have been

Able to do this.

Home

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​A cozy place to live –

A small house

With a garden

Of beautiful plants;

A bird-bath in the midst,

And a bowl to hold grains –

Snacks for birds on-the-go.

A lovely basin filled with fresh water

And another on the other side with food

Outside the main gates

For cows, stray dogs and cats

To eat and drink in peace;

Walls of the house

Painted personally

By the hand,

Pictures drawn here and there,

Reflecting old memories;

Photos hanging everywhere,

Each portraying

Moments from the past –

Memories lined with love,

A reminder of how

Life was once a celebration.

A faithful dog 

That can silently listen

To all complaints

And rejoice

In every joy brought home;

Lined up on the walls –

Guitars of every size and hue;

A dedicated shelf in the corner

That makes a tiny library;

A christmas tree grown inside

Decorated in a splendid manner

On every year’s December;

A thick-wheeled bicycle

Parked outside

To ride on every morning;

A warm bed and a quilt to spread on,

Is the kind of future 

That is often dreamed about.

— I’ll try to make my home like this in the future —

Your angle

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​It’s not anyone’s fault

That things are

The way they are;

After all,

Everyone we meet

In this world

Is human;

Everyone has a life,

Everyone cannot comprehend 

Every single feeling 

With utmost precision

The same way you have.

Even if it is a professional,

They’re still human;

They, too, can get angry

They, too, can get mad,

Because in the end,

No one is an angel

Dropping right from heaven

And there is no one

In this world

Who can ever see

What you see;

There’s no one in this world 

Who will not snap

On hearing an honest confession 

From you

If it’s unfavorable to them;

Everyone has an angle

Of seeing things,

And yours is in no way

Nearer to theirs.

Thank you, 2016!

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​Another year has passed

And has blessed us 

With experiences of every kind –

Tough cyclone winds,

The chase for the things we love,

Ceiling fans that slice hands,

New guitars and amazing gifts,

Flying over to places already seen,

New songs that have driven home 

Special meanings,

The lonely melancholies,

All the little sacrifices 

And honest promises

That mean so much,

All the trust gained or lost,

All the lessons learnt,

Friends and family who’ve stayed

Through thick and thin;

Countless happy memories

Of beach sands and salty waves;

Everyday ridicules and midnight fun,

Loud, contagious laughter,

An unshakable confidence

On people who always stay;

A path of obstacles,

And yet, the strength to face

Every single one of them

With such complacence,

And with the faith

That a brand new year

Is here

To bring another set of experiences;

And I shall cherish each one – 

Both good and bad

With all my heart.

A life to live

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Another poem dedicated to Mr.K : my neighbour whose feelings I could somehow fathom.
No one gets the life they’d desired

No one lives the life they had always loved

No one ends up happiest among the lot

No one gets away with a single thought

And no, no one can replay a portion

Of their life

Again and again

Just to stay happy

And get away from all the pain

The sorrow

The regrets

Every unfulfilled wish that remains 

All the buried up feelings,

The desperation,

Every little tear that has not been shed

The loneliness

The fears

And every unspoken truth hidden within

Will follow you to your grave.

The university I got to call mine

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Yesterday’s contribution for NaPoWriMo:

You were there, everyday

You were there, every minute

You gave me comfort,

You gave me shade.

You amused me with your astounding architecture

Of your labyrinthine corridors

And marble-white stairways

You were there

When I needed you,

When I felt lost.

You were there

To change my gloomy day

Into a busy one.

You kept me occupied,

You let me dream.

You tossed a few friends my way,

And good ones, at that.

You gave me the strength

To stand on a dais and blabber.

You told me where I was weak,

You made me assess myself.

You gave me a job,

You gave me your love,

And at last, you told me it’s all over.

Now I know I have to go.

With a reluctant goodbye,

I shall go.

Magic, magic everywhere!

Survival on Earth
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Here’s a contribution of mine for NaPoWriMo. I figured I should be writing at least one poem for it, if not participating.

Magic is everywhere



There is magic everywhere:
In the breath that you take and draw out;
The way the air doesn’t get lost
Into one of the million confusing pipes inside.

There is magic everywhere:
In the way your miniscule brain muscles
Along with the larger ones, work in sync,
Like a flawlessly programmed machine.

You can see magic everywhere!
There’re pores that absorb water from the dirt,
Tiny capillaries that fight the Earth’s pull,
And send water high up, towards the leaves.

This world is a truly magical place;
For, the word ‘fall’ makes sense here
‘Cause of a spell binding things to the Earth’s centre;
A spell called ‘gravity’ by the witch, Mother Nature.

The place we live is magical as hell
For, it gave us feelings, good and bad,
Taught us morals – the ones to be followed
To get to heaven.

The Earth isn’t magical alone!
The warm sunrays that reach our skin,
The bright light that makes our eyes scrunch up
Is unearthly magic indeed.

The place where we live is magical, really.
Where certain things can float away in the air, without a care
Like the souls who’ve found their peace.
It is a magical place, indeed.