Snippets of the mind by Gagansvaid

Perfection ceases as a long lost tree. Oh where went thee, oh where went thee? In my hours of slumber, in my hours of working, I get to gaze, at the stars and the seas. Oh dearest me, where went thee; is it in the sea? You were like that, a friend who walked down the lanes, Who made it clear, what you were like and in which tryst you moved. You were easy in your choices and living; you never questioned others, for you knew to you, no one mattered as much as yourself. No, you weren't being selfish then, you were being happy; your happiness that lied purely in your insight of watching the lives and the trees. You could notice, the pain in their eyes, they walked up shore, carrying logs of wood on their backs. You saw them, trying to make a penny out of their midnight oils that burned ceaselessly. To them struggle meant to arrange for their hunger, their empty stomachs, For you had known that you could do for them, what the governments couldn't. You had seen tha

Eyes say to catch the sleep; Acquaint to them the world of sound and peace. For who ever or whatsoever murmurs in thine sleep; Is holy magnificence, it's your space that you seek. Away from the waterfalls, or with the waterfalls; you watchest them, the waterfalls, as thee hold thy breathe and capture the moment. Either in thine wakeful hours, or when that instant; be you in your slumber, when a whole new world is cast. You lookest it, you observe its significance, in giving you your gift of thine own presence. Ever unique the wisdom calls, over and over, the light that scrolls; over the regions through the skies, to reach to thee, as you become another passer by.     To this journey called life you come, oh my God; you really meant your love. Now close your eyes and waitest thee; to catch it hence again tonight, as thee walk over the plains and the greens, after you take in the beauty of the seas. Somewhere oh yea, somewhere I heard them say

heart says, it is pure and rough; broken along the alleys and the trough. how i wonder what happens across, every time, there occurs a pause; radiates the open sky, thine wisdom dear Lord. how i wonder, what is mine and what is not. all along the valley and the slope, i witness standing at the galleries non stop; as flows the water, down into the river bed, i have noticed how my life took a level far ahead, to walk and fall, carrying the withered rose, as the sun rises, so does rise my clause; that life is rich, it is barren, that life is real, yet is a tester of the den. whatever i have is mine, or is it; that whatever i had was mine, now is hit; with the waves, and the storms; how i wonder, life is done with the norms. no more celebration exists, life in boots of weakness buzzes; only if on the destiny did sit, such a warm intent, undone of grudges. could the butterfly once again sit, until its dismissal through the ledges. there would be a reason in it

Say times and the times change, Little or more, my heart memoirs their trace. Were those more, or less; that we let through, To not come to us and go far, off the blue. All of a sudden, the barrier removes, Our own avoidance dooms, to end itself out of diffidence. We realize, that yes it was senseless, to others but not to our sense. Were it a requirement, Or ‘twas an ointment, To heal the boredom, or was it one segment; wherein we were heated, we were troubled unsatiated. They our good friends had to bid byes, that we made them pass imaginative sighs; How they had thought of us to be friends, how we responded, teared them to no ends. Today the heart says, those days, our acts, won’t ever come back, incense. We won’t be apparelled in the same hats, but it’s better to realize the ocean is dense. Like, it has a surface vast deep, one can tap; so, why not try yet again to cast the wings. A little or more try won’t make comebacks, at least our last hopes wouldn't forever conceal;

i say this, that the missing thing between us; won’t ever fill and rendezvous. won’t we again sit and talk over the blue, the sip of a coffee won’t be thus. it was they say, as a priced mechanism; something that brought us together, neither was it mine or your dominion, it was just a hope, in its lovely feathers. then it had to go away, because it was it; written in our destinies; was everything knit. if only could we cross the inlay roads, in that very valley we could board, a lot many dreams, in your chirping sigh; i could express to you lots, oh that silence. humble is the mind that seeks your love, my heart that personifies you, my love. i wish, if i could be as beautiful as you; only if i could not hurt and get afar from you. any ways, we were meant to stay till here, yes; this little stay of ours, created magic all spheres. i know you have wanted me to wait, i wish the same, only if i had got enough time to wait; as now, we are to part in our today, i w

life, what was it? hopes bun together and lit. yes, would the best define, yes; it would outshine. my life, would propel and accept, all my flaws and insecurities leaped. what was it, they said 'twas life; what was called friendship, what was it called in hardship? could anyone but determine, whether, the sands would along dine, with the rocks and the saline? would the opposite people, ever walk and travel a mile? would they but not hurt over, and let the bond sublime! testify through awkward hurl, and not exit itself in malign. i looked at the sky, i looked within my being; i couldn't smile, everything wasn't satisfying. my inner tendencies were a lie, i was missing them, i could wink. to tell them, i was waiting; the wait, that did sling and sling. until, they were to respond, i was a lake, i was a pond. getting depleted from the ocean, and light, to a decimal; i had become. i kept my eye, at the surging waves, i wanted to glow, alike

Zoya was a very beautiful girl, who stood well dressed up in her best friend's marriage. She was feeling very lonely that day, as much as she was the happiest person. Having been the closest friend to Shambhavi. From high school to that day, they had well known what either of them liked and what not. From a week back, Zoya had joined Shambhavi in the family functions, to actively be a part of the rituals and to help carry them. They had grown up together and those youthful years had been the days of shine and splendour. They had travelled along, watched the films together, shopped and ate; they were ready any day for such schedule. This defined their love for each other and the company of one another. Zoya kept her glance at the bride and groom getting their pictures clicked with relatives and friends. She was emotional, she was in her own world of imaginations. Somewhere figuring out where all those years had passed in between and how they had talked and dreamt abo

"Getting bored, thinking of life; its ways to treat me, and how it came to everyone and how not everyone could accept it that very way as it came. It was harsh to live it the manner imposed by others, it was difficult all the way more." ,thought the boy. He knew it was so, and so was he concerned about her; but, what more could he do, he himself had less idea over that. He had known one thing, that he could do anything; now for that matter, how so ever weird it would sound so. He could react in crazy ways, go over-smart or react over, just that he couldn't limit himself. Maybe, his land was somewhere else that he was seeking. He knew one thing that was also applicable to the world, that no one liked to live in a cage. It was just difficult to survive for long. But sometimes, it was important to live in those limits set upon us by our caretakers. Call it their weakness to understand our wishes, or call it our weakness to convince them or also you may call i

This fact always interested me as of how we humans were looking at things around us, and finally being attracted to people, places and things we actually got near to them. Like, when I would talk to a stranger, there might be some excitement to interact and somewhere our opinions would be shared, sometimes these opinions would be in conflict. Still there would be some link at a point and that would make my relation to that very person ever strong. From the amazement and excitement of life, new links and new relations would forge. One would never be too sure, if those people would give us powerful insight into our lives. "As much as they influence us, so do we influence them." This really moves me, and I think of one of my many conversations with a distant relative of mine. Few days back he had come to visit my place and it felt really nice to see him grown up as many years had passed since we last met. The previous time I saw him, he was introvert in his o

what was his and what wasn't, he knew but less, in commotion he walked as the bystanders looked at his ironic state, from a fun loving guy he had stranded on a life path to be a man who was so unknown, fatigue stricken; then the young man walked up in his style once again and forgot what his real state was. he had thought of himself, if he were but a pretence, but no; he was only being polite to t he world that was otherwise eating up on others hard work. yes, the so called smart world, took away that one person's hard earned bread by sitting and being a parasite. he knew, he had his fight not with them, not with that system but all in all, with that sense of winning, which took away from people their values and realness. so, was he one; wearing a mask, to not let them enjoy his fall. little had he himself thought that in showing his disregard to their ways, he had become a part of them. but he couldn't cleanse his hands of that place, because he was one