A Battle Never Won

I will chose my own battles,

and you may chose your own.

Just don't be disappointed

if they are not the same.

Some people change, for the good.

And some of us don't complain.

We try to make it right,

And we do not explain.

If we think its not going to

Be right for a while,

Silently we move away

And walk alone a mile.

If we turn back and see you,

Making an effort to connect

We will welcome you once again

All wrongs, we will forget

But if you will let us go,

There are many turns on the way

We will wish you good luck,

And will keep walking away!

So let it be the way it is,

Some stories just don't last.

I am sure you will get many friends

The world is way too vast!

And I am happy in my own world,

The way I want it to be.

I don't want to be saturated like you,

I just want to be free!

As they say, to each

Its just their own

And it is going to be

A battle never won!

Comments

Mother of the chosen one

Now all is said and done, I am left with a blue scarf As that was one piece of cloth, they did not have to tear apart From the lady with a camera to my milk man Everybody asks me how I feel repeatedly What do I say to their questions? When words have failed me completely I want to tell them that I celebrated Like any other mother, when she was born I loved her when she held my finger first And I love her even now when I mourn She was a chirpy child like any other With her pigtails and eyes so bright And she smiled every time She got her maths sums right We had many sleepless nights When she was a child How we wanted her to grow up then To get rid of an adventure so wild How were we to know, that For rest of our lives we would never sleep she was our proud and honor, but her memory has left a scar so deep I don’t know what they saw in her Or what she did which was so wrong To see her in the group of girls returning ...

Textures of an old soul

In 2008, I was in Sacramento, California. As excited as possible for a boring 22 year old nerd to be, I went exploring the city on my own. I asked my cab driver if the old Sacramento town was worth the time and money spent considering it was far from the uni. The cab driver, as all cab drivers do, started talking and to cut the long story short, on knowing I come from India exclaimed, “You come from Jodhpur you say? Why are YOU visiting old town? It is not even that old by your standard! Don’t you come from a city 1000 years old?” It filled my heart with joy and pride that he knew about my city and knew it so well. And I remember this story every time I visit my hometown. I always wanted to visit all those monuments back and relive my childhood memories. There never was enough time! Or let me say I never ran out of excuses. Since I have always stayed in boarding school and hostels, this place had always been the place you go back to with tired, worn down spirit. It has some heal...

Mid Night Muse

You are chocolate flavored cupcake in the bakery shop, In the world of formal shoes, you are my flipflop! You are the scent of fabric conditioner, on freshly washed sheet! In those indie songs I listen to, you are my favorite beat! You are the warmth of the sun at eleven on a sunny day, You are my favorite verse of all the things I say! You are the oversized, cozy sweatshirt of mine, You are the reddest of the red wine. You are the fragrance of baby soap on my skin at night, In these confusing left lanes, you are always right. You are the joy of finding an old note in a book. You are the 'plain' maggi that you cook. You are a cuppa on a rainy afternoon, You are the coolness of nightly sand dune.

Something about life

Search This Blog