An independent, uninspired, self opinionated ability to think and make decisions is the most magnificent trait a human can possess.

But, they said that Love was meant to heal. 

Maybe Love was meant to heal.

You can not change people.

Let them be or Let them go.

If you are always expecting in return for the good you do to others, you aren't really doing any good at all.

Nothing worth having comes free. 

Unlike the miles

Between you and I 

is immeasurable 

untravellable,

an empty space

between your heart and mine

Forgiving and letting go at the same time makes you stronger, smarter and a winner at the same time. 

Two generations feed on

one body of yours,

served for starve and lust.

You are made love to 

sadly, sans making you feel loved

leaving thou empty yet

so much so it hurts

through each lump of every organ.

The touch of your own hand

more promising though

doesn't feel the same,

You've let men guest on you

for the fantasies of your love

you aimlessly accommodate

in and out

blood, bones and bodies,

till letting go

becomes forgetting and 

forgetting becomes familiar.

You've been taught to hold on 

till forever.

So you hold on 

to being a woman

to being the stronger version of humanity.

The Road

Asphalted beautifully,
in my country not so fine though 
somewhere grey, somewhere fawn
somewhere dense, sparse somewhere,
promises me and thou
a companionship
through the wandering,
diverging into rights and wrongs
reaching everywhere
ending nowhere.

There are no shortcuts in life, only Displacements.

Charms Now and Forever

It keeps me wondering

What fascinates more about it,

Curves or the steeps?

For it oscillates me

while driving my blue

and thrills my adrenal,

clambering the sheer trails.

What's more bewitching

Beauty or the wildness?

For the sight, I capture

in my vision gets me through,

and the viciousness

helps me resolve within.

What is more adorable 

Chills or the companion?

For gales cross my face

whispering the nature secrets,

and a caring shirt covers me

every time I take off my shrug.

What makes it more wanted

Tranquility or the memories?

For it soothes and heals

every wound out & in me,

and souvenirs with echoes

to be recollected for life.

It keeps me pondering

What is more loving about hills,

Everything or beyond?

I write, again

Was

on a high-highway

sorted all, all in place

fenced by will

and the trues.

En route, I found

a branching-boulevard

overfilled with passion

and with escape.

That

gleaming grin 

for me, imparting

Excursion-Endearment-Esteem

Replenishment!

Yes! 

a chaotic attractor

instilling into my soul

promptly nurturing me

to accomplish.

But

Farawayness-

of time

over again.

Yet

Hours-Days-Weeks

of wait for

the needful 

and untimely

rains.

To fill up the

deepness of 

Oblique-Emptied-Hollow

river ‘tween us.

So

Waiting 

to float across

and waiting more-

for that

desired touch 

to create.

Moreover, to attain

our notion of 

unending embrace.

And

queries dinging

in my mind-

While I reach, will you be there?

Or will just fade away?

Reigning Love? 

Or hurt again?

That’s why

I write,

Again.

-Abhinav Chhabra