If we cannot keep ourselves from doing good even to people who care the least, let's just accept that we are too good to be unkind. 

I just wonder how our lives would be if there was no social networking.
How less people we would have known.
How more we could have known less people.

It doesn't take hatred to stop loving someone. It takes forgiveness.

Being Human

Then there's this day

when you find more hair 

in your comb, and the pillow

that you lay back on 

dreaming the remains of life.

Standing on the inception

of untimely losing process

that ends till

there's nothing to lose,

You feel sick of your nails,

your shadow, the touch

of your own skin and 

the stuff of your clothes.

You want no next generation,

trapped into the viciousness

of blood, emotions, tears

or even smiles, especially

the wrinkles you foresee, 

initiated over by your forehead

when you're too young to be old.

Will there be a day too,

when you finally lose

the ability to over think

or think at all,

and the grudged memories

ultimately fade, instead of

hiding under the years

of my age or pictures of time.

If so happens or not,

you long for the day

when you're no weak enough

to deal with the

randomity of being a human.

I write

In the inconsiderate world

too much in hurry to stop by

and peek into the sorrows,

I write myself

in blue dark days,

the wretched unmade bed,

the ill-lit room lights

and in loud cry of silence,
I write myself

On the table pavements,

the sheer mythical curtains.

and on the final books' pages
I write for the people downstairs,

the influential mankind,

the poverty of love

and for that now-changed-man.

I write myself, about
the old astray dreams,
the fantasies of the kid,

the stories of yesterdays

and intents of tomorrows.
I write myself 
in the emptiness of hours
on the surface of the sky
for the crave of spilling it out
about me and them.
And then I delete
the harsh uttered words,
I hide it all
under the undone pillows,
put it behind my own walls
and wipe it off my heart.
For the paradox, I picture
them as the broken ones
and I write myself
the promise of unbrokenness.

Let's Begin Again

Catch me looking at you

again,

as I sit on the bench

next to you,

immeasurable miles

and an infinity far from you.

Walk past the time n miles.

Walk to me,

like a curious stranger

to learn my name.

Hold my hand, 

with assorted feelings 

of interminable zeal 

and fear.

Accept my smile and

credit me with one alike

as I look at you, for 

the second first time.

Out for the new story,

Let's sing those songs again

and celebrate us.

Someday, Somewhere

Let's meet again

and know each other.

This life or tomorrow night

Let's fall in love again

and rise together.

"Your writings are so lively. They just talk. They tell so many stories. Which one is yours?" Sameer was so curious to know.
"They are all mine" 
"No I mean which one is your story, your own?" he asked again.
"Every poem is my story, Each line is my story." I said.

The biggest challenge I've seen every guy going through is to convince girls that he is not 'that kind of guy'. 

She

She is not how you see her, hell no! She is totally not what you all think of her. She just exchanged a smile with the guy and you reckon it's a big deal? Just because she had a bad experience with one guy, doesn't stop her life. Did it stop yours? She never forgot how to love or trust, and when you ask her why hasn't she learnt that having expectations hurt and trusting someone is worse. She'd say "I like people, I love to love, I believe there's some part of everyone that deserves to be trusted atleast for once." How could someone think so simple and logical and happily sound stupid to us?  Now that she is putting her trust in this guy, you call her hopeless. Alright, she puts her heart and love untimely, but she doesn't trust anyone enough to not ever break it. If she can take and accept the pain of someone who broke her heart forever, she can take anything you break of her. I have known her since she was young and silly, she is still young and silly, and she might be just old and silly tomorrow. But she won't ever choose to grow sensible enough to never love. She trusted one person after another, not because she couldn't go by herself, neither it's her way to hurt herself, it's just her way to discover herself, and learn about people, about you and me and most of all about love.

The Promise

Counting on
the miles between our ends,
the unapproachable time
and the cities that set us apart.
I discover contentment
against the mutuality
of our language,
our loyalty
and our love.
Her denial to deny,
acceptance instead, of
my pique, displeasure
annoyance and all that
I even fail to name,
odds-on why we still are
the way we are, with 
the forever promise,
we vowed
on my first school day.
And she, same with
her heart, that grew
no wiser in past fifteen years,
holding my hand, 
with no intention to leave
ever,
restoring my faith in love,
infecting me with greatness.

The inside: It follows you

Isn't it just too hard
running away from
the memory generating
places, to shifting to
new whereabouts.
From the bygone
companionship, to
liking forsaken happiness.
From the good old, now
changed times, to
finding new tomorrows.
From all the love
melodies and playlists, to
nothing and emptiness.
And when you're there,
you find your core
loaded with
the innumerable memories
of people you left behind,
the ten digits you deleted
everywhere but your mind.
the echoing songs, you're
now afraid to listen to.
and the same old
hopeless you.
Isn't it just too
impossible to run away
from yourself?

An old friend

The day ends and he asks
'Didn't you write anything today? '
To me, that's not an inquiry
No merely a question
Not even a formality
One does to keep a friend
And I think back
Why haven't I written about this yet
About this man 
Who doesn't only read my write, 
Admires it, 
Compliments me, 
Not all the times everyone does.
Appreciates me the most, 
Not when I don't deserve.
Enjoys my oddness in public, 
Not when I try faking it
Listens to my long stupid stories, 
Always
Who is obsessed with me, 
Only when I make him feel proud.
Who reminds me who I am
Every time I forget.
Why haven't I yet talked about this to my pen
That there's someone
who was there when nobody was, 
who will be there even when
I won't be there for myself, 
He knows the inside of me, 
He cares enough to scold me
When I set the bar of my life lower.
He is eternal,
He is an old friend.

The closest distant friend (Yes, you brother)

Just as, I sit with mom

prattling about

how we finally, solely

have the hall to us.

No more reeky socks

or slothfulness he spreads,

or Ten Sports' commentary.

We sit there,

sucking the happiness

out of the walls, that 

talk of him,

about him, so loud.

The calendar there, that

has 12 different pictures

of same us,

smartly lies of togetherness

the whole year.
And secretly,
the floor, the windows,

the TV remote, ache 

to feel his presence.

especially the wall clock,

t'was put outside the room,

every night, for it's ticks 

every second muddled

our boy's creative mind.

We laugh it out,

I hide my heart in my pocket

as we talk about 

his November flight to us.

'cause I fail to name the emotion

that brings me infinte zeal

and happiness, followed by

a longer goodbye. 

Sometimes you have to be a bad person, to be a better person to yourself.

"No one is rich enough to have a luxurious happy life without inner peace."

"He wanted us to get back together."
"Oh my God, that's great, I mean I don't know, I'm so excited, you guys were so amazing together, What did you say? Oh damn me! Of course, you would have chosen to be with him instead of being sad" she put up with the self answered questions out of excitement.
"Mayra, I chose peace" 

Always

Every next winter,

when we no longer

be a part of each other,

I'll send you

a blanket of my warmth

with a part of my heart.

For, out beyond the

distances and grudges,

I'll always care for you.

Every next morning,

when my last dream

will be about you,

I'll wail a tear 

in the memory of 

all times, we dreamed 

to relive in real.

For, with every rain

and all the love songs,

I'll always miss you.

Every next time,

when I'll feel forlorn 

for no reason,

I'll close my eyes

to not feel

the unfilled gap

between my fingers.

For, from every yesterday

to all tomorrows,

I'll always love you.

The untying ties

I wake up, everyday

and I find a little changed

everyone.

May be we all grow up

or may be

this is how we are.

As though the friend, who

I can no longer count on, 

for we lost us 

to ego and time.

Maybe, that's

how attachments are, we

forget the worth someday.

And bewildering it is

having the brother

who's there for me,

never here with me.

May be, that's

how relations are,of which

denotations get wiser.

She married happily, and 

I prayed the finest for her.

yet, her red & white bangles

exasperate me, while that

sister holds my hand.

May be, that's

how ties are, some are

slacked to build new ones.

We promised each other,

the span between today

and eternity, that turned

shorter than forever.

May be

that's how strings are.

The older I get,

the lesser I understand.

"I don't understand Mayra! I was doing fine. Really fine. And when I thought I was actually getting over him, he texted me! Like seriously? He wants me to hang in there for the rest of my life just to see in case he changes his fucking mood! No, don't think I 'm crying! I'm not crying because I don't know what I want. These are tears of anger! I feel so  aggravated, he just wrote a message like he still cares for me and boom! I'm back to level zero where I have to start moving on all over again! Don't you think I'm feeling messed up again, I'm fine, it's just......" it's just that..."

"Edha, Edha shhhhh, my girl, come here. It's okay." she gave me the much needed hug while I broke down.

"This is life. It just is what it is. It's not always fair. It's never fair" she said.

"Mayra, What is the best thing that Ryan ever did to you?"
"He never let me leave, even when I wanted to. Most important, he never left. The best thing Ryan did to me till today is that he kept all the promises he never made" she said.